#i have yet to fully settle on the best way to sort everything

[cordeliawhohung]

Ischemia

Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!Reader - part eleven of "soft spot"

Scars have healed, and the sun shines brighter, but something is still eating at Simon.

warnings: minor angst, smut, fingering, p in v,

wc: 6.7k

Lazy waves lapped at your feet.

It should have been cold as ice but you felt nothing as you sat in the sand, watching the seafoam cling to your legs. Several seagulls floated in the water in front of you, much too close for comfort. Their beady eyes pierced through you as if they didn’t know how to do anything else, and they were utterly silent like they had forgotten how to sing. The only things they knew how to do was sit there and judge you for everything you had done in your life. 

“Are you happy now?”

The voice came from behind you, but you didn’t dare to turn around. Grains of sand hit your hand as someone approached you, and then you heard the soft sound of splashing water. Legs stretched into the water next to you, and more foam began to cling to your body as it connected you to your new partner. Salt stung your eyes as the bubbles fizzed and popped, yet you did your best to not let your eyes water.  

“I… don’t know,” you answered simply, voice more empty than it should have been. 

“Why not?” they asked. 

Finally, you looked away from those lifeless birds and to your side where you were met with a familiar and cold gaze. Her eyes were just as empty as they had been all that time ago in that basement when she handed you that steak knife, but her hair was different. Shorter, maybe? No, it was out of its ponytail. Loose, blonde strands danced around her shoulders in the dull wind, and for a moment you thought she looked prettier that way. 

“I think I’m happy, but sometimes I’m not,” you admitted with a tilt of your head. Pausing, you turned back to face the ocean in front of you. The seagulls had vanished, and you noticed that the water felt like it started to lap against your lower stomach and not just your legs. “How can you tell? If you’re happy or not?” 

She shrugged, and you felt her hands move in the sopping wet sand underneath you as she did so. Dark clouds loomed in the distance, but there was no thunder. Everything was just grey, some sort of empty void, and if the ocean water wasn’t so dark you were certain you wouldn’t have been able to tell where the earth ended and the sky began. 

“I don’t think you can,” she said softly. A distinct splash of water sent a few droplets your way as the woman reached her hand out in the ocean. You watched her hand as it glided on top of the waves, foam weaving between her fingers. It was up to your ribcage by that point, where it soaked through your shirt. “I think you just know. You wake up one day and realize all your wounds are scars now.” 

Nodding your head, you began to mirror the woman's movements. Silky smooth water ran over your hand with ease, and you were so enamored with the way it felt you almost didn’t realize just how high the water had risen. 

“Are you still bleeding?” the woman then asked. 

“Sometimes,” you admitted. 

“How much?”

“Less than before.” 

“Good.”

A comfortable silence settled over the two of you like a heavy blanket, and you were content just listening to the sound of the waves on the shore, despite how far away they sounded. Things continued to steadily turn grey, yet at the same time things seemed brighter. There was no warmth or comfort to it, but there was no ill intent. It simply was. 

“The water is rising,” you noticed as you allowed your hand to fully submerge itself. 

“You’ve been through worse,” she defended as if it was nothing. 

There was nothing more to be said after that. She was right. You had once prayed that the water would rise high enough that it would sweep you away into its depths. Wrap you safe in its arms and keep you at the bottom of the ocean where nothing would ever find you. But when the water started to swallow your body, soaking your hair and consuming every bit of you, you began to float on top of the seafoam. 

Every muscle in your arms and legs tensed so quickly your body nearly levitated off of the bed. Dull white walls reflected the light of the morning sun brightly on the ceiling, and you found yourself squinting as you tried to rub at your face. One sharp inhale and an annoyed sigh later, the pounding in your chest began to slow and just as the tension in your body began to melt away, a pair of strong arms snaked around your center where you were pulled into Simon’s chest. You could tell from his over-emphasized breathing that you had startled him awake, but he said nothing as you settled underneath his chin and buried your face into his collarbone. 

“Nightmare?” he asked. Having just woken up, his voice was dramatically deep and grumbly, and the sound reverberated in your skull while he lazily ran a hand up and down your back. 

“Not exactly. Just a really weird dream,” you explained with a heavy sigh. 

Simon hummed in response as he adjusted his position where he pulled you so close it was as if he tried to crush you. “Wanna talk about it?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut as images of your dream washed over you. Crystal clear waters, beady eyed seagulls, Adakskin’s wife; it was all so strange. Not inherently scary, although not entirely welcomed either. 

“I was sitting in the ocean,” you recalled, voice cracking from sleep. “It was really calm, it felt more like a lake than anything else. I think it was supposed to be Salthouse, but I don’t know. There were some vanishing seagulls, and the lady with Adakskin and Bukin was there too. We were talking about something… can’t remember what. I think the water started rising, and I thought I was going to drown, and then I woke up.” 

Things grew quiet as both you and Simon contemplated your strange dream, and you nearly fell asleep again from listening to his slow and even breathing. Before you were able to drift back into slumberland, you stretched your arms and legs out with a small groan. Grunting, Simon attempted to keep you close to him by pulling you against his chest again, which only made you giggle. 

“No drowning on my watch,” he mumbled as he nuzzled his nose into the side of your neck. 

While you laughed and playfully attempted to push Simon away, you felt something paw at your leg before you heard a tiny huff and an annoyed meow. Wiggling as best as you could in Simon’s grasp, you looked over your shoulder just in time to watch Simon’s hand swallow Boo’s head and began to shake him around. 

“Don’t use that tone with me,” he teased while the poor cat swatted at his arm. 

“Leave the baby alone,” you whined. Struggling, you turned around so that your back was against Simon’s chest, and you swallowed Boo up in your arms and held him close to your stomach. “He’s just hungry.” 

Once more the creature meowed, this time more in frustration than anything else. Refusing to leave him alone, Simon reached around you and grabbed his skull and shook him some more, forcing you to slide out of the bed in order to save the poor thing. As you held Boo against you, cradling him like an infant, you playfully glared down at Simon who was having a difficult time smothering the grin on his lips. 

“I’m going to go feed the child. Come join us when you decide you’re done being a criminal,” you teased before exiting the bedroom. 

Things had gotten more colorful since you moved. What little sunshine bled through the curtains in the living room seemed warmer than they used to be with that glowing, golden tint. Instead of stained, white walls you were surrounded by a comforting tan. The wood floor was brand new, and the balcony housed two chairs and a table for the nights when you and Simon were too restless to get any proper sleep. It was the closest thing to a home you had managed to build in your entire life; a new place free from the stains and echoing voices of the past. 

You enjoyed every moment of it. Every single crunch of Boo munching away at his food bowl, the way you could hear quiet music from your downstairs neighbor playing through the open window in the living room, all of it. You were able to look around and actually see things. Not just exist while everything else continued on around you. 

“Shit,” Simon muttered. 

Pulling yourself out of your cheery daze, your eyes flickered away from your hungry friend and over to Simon, who stood in front of the fridge with the door open. His hair was mussed from sleep still, and he hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt, leaving every inch of his torso exposed. It had been almost two years since he had been captured by Bukin, and his body was able to fully heal from the effects, save for an even more crooked nose and a scar on his left arm. 

“Outta milk,” he said in response to your questioning gaze. With a sigh, he closed the door to the fridge before reaching his arm up to rub at the back of his neck. “Suppose we could always have fried cat for breakfast.” 

“Simon,” you chastised while rolling your eyes. “You boys, I swear. Why don’t we head to the market instead?”

He hummed. “Right. Doubt there’s enough meat on his scrawny ass anyway.” 

After settling whatever beef was going on between your boyfriend and your cat, the two of you hopped in the shower for a quick wash before getting ready to head out. It was a lazy Saturday morning, and in the midst of summer, you decided to don a skirt for the warm weather. Nothing super fancy, just something short enough to keep fabric off of your skin and still plenty long enough that you wouldn’t become indecent from a simple gust of wind. Besides, the stark difference between you in your cute summer outfit and Simon in simple jeans, a cotton t-shirt, and a mask always made you giggle. 

It was a short walk to the market from the apartment. The midmorning sun was unforgiving in the way it beat down on any pedestrian unfortunate enough to find themselves walking on the pavement, and you couldn’t have been more grateful for your choice in attire. Despite the heat, your fingers interlaced with Simon’s as you walked, and the two of you chose to ignore whatever sweat built up between your hands as you enjoyed the scenery on the walk. Fragrant flowers decorated window sills with vibrant pinks, oranges, and whites, and there was something oddly satisfying about the lively green leaves that offered sparse coverage overhead. 

Things cooled off a little once you and Simon reached the market, though not by much. You meandered throughout the store, traversing up and down aisles while Simon followed close behind you with a small hand basket. Any sort of snacks or necessity that caught your eye were tossed into the basket, and each time you picked something up, you’d hold it out towards Simon with a sly grin before making a cheeky comment. 

“This’ll keep your hunger satiated, right? So you won’t eat the cat?” 

It didn’t take long to gather all the necessary items, and eventually you began to weave your way up towards the front of the store to check out. Plenty of other customers clogged the lines, all trying to get their shopping done on their day off from work, which left you and Simon standing towards the back, surveying the lines and attempting to figure out which one you would be able to get through fastest. 

“Lane three only has two people,” you pointed out. 

“Yeah, but their trollies are full,” Simon countered. “Lane one has three people, but they’ve only got a handful of items.” 

Well, you didn’t need any more convincing than that. Just as you were about to step forward, a trolly narrowly missed bumping into you. You jumped backwards in slight surprise as the man pushing the cart quickly apologized as he took a step back as well. In the middle of you telling him it was no big deal, someone else quickly caught your attention. The woman who accompanied him was just as beautiful as she had been a few winters back with her curled blonde hair and dazzling smile. Your eyes were immediately drawn to her, or perhaps more so to the child she held against her hip. 

“Ness!” you exclaimed. 

The woman’s eyes lit up when she recognized you and she quickly squeezed her way around the man so that she wasn’t blocking the aisle. Her child looked up at you with big eyes and an equally big smile. There was something just so innocent about his expression, and maybe something a little shy as well. 

“Oh my goodness… look at you!” you cooed to the baby. “Is he yours?”

Ness bounced the baby higher up on her hip before glancing over at the man who still had his hands on the trolly. He was a kind looking man with a full face and an awkward smile. His eyes flickered back and forth between you and your friend, though his features seemed to grow less uncomfortable when he looked at Ness. 

“Ours, yes,” she answered before turning her attention back to you. 

A lengthy conversation erupted after that, and Simon slightly tuned everything out as he watched the lines ebb and flow with customers. Really, he was glad that you had ran into Ness again. It had been over a year since you had quit (or, more like lost) your job, and since then a majority of your time had been spent back at the apartment. Of course he was always there to talk with you as much as he could between missions, but he worried you were lacking other human connection. 

He brought his attention back to you when he heard the baby start to giggle. It was shrill and high pitched, and he reached out for you with tiny, grabbing fingers as if asking to be held by you. Deciding to give in to his wishes, Ness held the child out, and Simon watched as you carefully scooped him into your arms, clearly avoiding too much weight being put on your left arm. He tried not to focus too much on how perfectly the child fit against your side, or how natural it all looked. But it didn’t take long for the kid to try and cause trouble; namely, pulling at your earlobe as if he hoped it would come off. 

“Well, hello to you, too,” you chuckled as you gently bounced him. “What’s his name?” 

“Joseph,” Ness answered with a smile, “but we usually call him Joey. Isn’t that right? Because you’re always bouncing all over the place like a little kangaroo, huh?”

“Awe,” you cooed as you turned your full attention to the child in your arms. “Little Joseph…”

Everything suddenly grew quiet for Simon. There was no beeping from the cash registers, or idle chatter between customers and workers. There was just you and that baby, and the way you cooed a name that had long been lost on his ears. You were glowing, utterly illuminated even in the harsh light of the store, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you looked up at him. Radiant. Perfect. Everything he had ever wanted. 

Then the baby looked at him. Joseph. Joseph. So young and sweet, yet he cowered away from Simon and hid his face into your shoulder. It was the gentle sound of your laughter that brought him back into the moment, and when he tried to breathe he realized his chest burned like his heart had been replaced with searing embers. 

“Don’t worry, that’s just Simon,” you coddled. “He looks scary, but don’t worry, the mask is doing us a favor. He’s really, really ugly.” 

As if understanding you, Joseph dared another glance at Simon, just to quickly look away once more. It all felt so silly and familiar in a way that hurt, but it burned for only a short while before you handed Joseph back to his mother and exchanged farewells with your friend. Just like that, everything was back to normal. It was just him and you again as your items were scanned in line. Just you and him carrying bags of groceries back to your shared apartment. You and him, and no one else. 

Boo had fallen asleep by the time you and Simon arrived home. He sat curled up in the corner of the couch where he rested a paw over his face to block the sunlight seeping in through the large glass doors that led out to the balcony. Neither you nor Simon paid him much mind as the two of you quickly went to work at putting away the groceries. 

After spending a good amount of time in physical therapy, lifting your left arm up above your head became easier, although still difficult. Because of this, Simon made sure to take any items that required being put into the overhead cupboards so that you wouldn’t have to struggle with it, while you dealt with everything that needed to be stored in the fridge. 

Once the groceries were nearly put away, you gasped something sudden and sharp. Simon ceased his movements and turned his attention to you, worried you had hurt yourself, but when he tried to ask what was wrong you quickly shushed him. Lines formed on the skin of your face as you concentrated; what it was, Simon wasn’t sure. Then you started humming. It was a melody he didn’t recognize, but he watched you nearly bounce up and down as you pointed towards the ajar window in the living room. 

“Our neighbor has good taste in music. Fuck, it’s been forever since I’ve listened to this song,” you explained. 

Whatever Simon was going to say in response to you vanished somewhere in the depths of his chest the moment he saw you begin to sway. Gently dancing across the kitchen floor, you reached your arms out for him until your hands brushed against his shoulders, pulling him into your movements. 

And then you started to sing. 

“I’ll be your morning bright, goodnight, shadow machine. I’ll be your record player baby if you know what I mean. I’ll be your real tough cookie with the whiskey breath. I’ll be a killer and a thriller and the cause of our death.”

During your little performance, your arms had completely wrapped around his neck where you held him as close as you could manage. He returned the gesture in kind by placing his hands on your waist, and he leaned forward until your foreheads were touching. The two of you continued to gently sway and rotate like that as the faint music played in the background. 

Until it all began to fade away. The music, the sunlight that streamed through the windows, the groceries; all of it. All that was left was just you and Simon. The skin of your arms against his neck, your breath tickling his chin, your warmth radiating through your clothes and into the palms of his hands. He didn’t know how he ever survived you being gone. Your body had become so ingrained into his that it was like you had always been there, lurking underneath his skin, whispering words into his ear. In some strange way, you had always been a part of him. 

“Good seein’ you like this again,” he said, soft enough that you could still hear the end of the song play through the window. 

“You like looking at me an inch away from my face?” you asked, though the teasing tone wasn’t lost on Simon. 

“I like seein’ you happy,” he corrected. 

Something about the way he worded it made your stomach feel strange. It was a fizzy and bubbling emotion that had your chest expanding so much that it nearly hurt. Happy. It was weird how things had a tendency of sneaking up on you. You had gotten used to such brutal, sudden, and violent changes that you forgot that sometimes things came slowly. Sometimes they were slow growing vines entangling your legs, wrapping around your body and encasing you in so much love and life that it was like the rot had never been there to begin with. 

Your hands slowly slid up from the back of his neck until you had a good hold of his jaw where you carefully moved your faces apart. Nothing but love hid behind Simon’s eyes, and his expression was more calm and relaxed than you had seen him for quite some time. Day after day you got to wake up next to him, got to see those eyes that looked at you with such adoration. Simon Riley was proof that there was good in the world. 

“You make me happy,” you said, eyes refusing to look away from him. 

Everything fell into place after that. The gentle rubbing of your thumb along his jawline, the way he pulled you closer to him, how he nuzzled his nose against yours; it was only natural that your lips would collide next. The taste of Simon’s lips had become so familiar to you that they didn’t even have an easily describable flavor anymore. He tasted like late nights and sweet words, like home. You wanted to drown in it, to dive in and never come back up, so you pulled him as close as you could manage until you were sure you’d suffocate. 

Right when you thought Simon would pull back, attempt to cool things down some and get some air, your lower back came in contact with the counter where you were pinned there by his hips. You realized just how long it had been since you had last touched one another like that, with so much heated and tender passion that you had no choice but to giggle into his mouth while he continued to kiss you. His hand cradled the back of your head, preventing your skull from bumping into the cupboards behind you due to the intensity of his lips on yours. 

“I missed this,” you mumbled against his lips. Your hands trailed along his chest, dipping from his collarbones all the way down to his stomach until your fingers were hooked in the belt loops of his jeans. “Being with you. Being able to do this.” 

Simon hummed into your mouth as his free hand drifted down your body, sliding over your hips, down your thighs, then trailing back up and bunching the fabric of your skirt in the process before letting it fall back into place as he rested at your waist. A sudden burning ardor buzzed between your legs just from his hands alone, and you found your hips involuntarily bucking as if begging for his touch. 

You captured his wandering hand in yours like a cat catching a mouse and slowly began to push his hand lower. So many emotions had been locked away, snuffed out by the terror and anxiety that plagued you for so long, that your want for him was painful. It was a type of desire that only Simon could satiate, and you needed it so much you nearly trembled. 

“Please,” you begged as his fingertips brushed down your pelvis. 

It didn’t take much for him to give in to your desire, and his hand dipped under the swaying fabric of your skirt as he caressed your inner thigh. Already soft and pliable for him, it took little prompting before you slowly spread your legs as well as you could while standing. When his hand palmed you through your panties you swore you would sob. Starving, you swayed your hips more, attempting to chase the friction, and he huffed loudly as he pressed his forehead against yours. 

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured as he fumbled with the fabric blocking him from you. “Are… are you sure sweetheart?” 

Even after all that time Simon would never once assume that you just wanted him. Always had to hear it from you, from your lips, had to hear you say that you needed him. So your hands quickly slipped up to his face, holding him by the sides of his head as you gently pulled his forehead from yours, making him look at you.  

“Simon, baby,” you pleaded as you still attempted to grind against his hand, “I need you to fuck me.” 

His eyes scanned your face for a moment, almost as if he didn’t believe you, but the moment you felt him melt in your grasp was the moment all hesitation left him. With a strong grip on the back of your head, his lips crashed against yours once more just as he slipped a finger inside of your aching cunt. It was shallow and playful, and yet you clenched around him all the same until he added another finger and shoved himself deeper. Your hands were no longer cupping his face at that point but instead grabbing onto the back of his neck for dear life. The wet muscle of his tongue slipped past your lips just as he began to lazily pump his fingers into you, and he grunted as if he fucked you with more than just his hand. 

He kept you pinned against the counter as he worked at you, stretching out the tight ring of your pussy that seared so sublimely. Each moan you attempted to let fall from your lips were quickly licked away by Simon as his kisses became messier. He didn’t relent until the slick from your cunt drooled down his fingers to his wrist. He pulled out, and you nearly whined at him until a jolt buzzed throughout your legs as his fingers instead massaged your clit in rapid circles, going so fast your brain felt detached from your body. 

“Hold on tight, yeah?” he ordered, almost as breathless as you. 

As if you couldn’t hold onto the back of his neck any tighter, you nodded your head and braced your arms. Simon stopped his relentless stimulation of your clit and moved both of his hands to your thighs where he pulled you away from the counter before hoisting you into his arms. You giggled something sweet and breathless as you wrapped your legs around his waist and buried your face into his neck. The wetness of your arousal smeared across your thigh as Simon’s still wet hand braced your legs so that you wouldn’t fall, but you ignored the feeling as you peppered kisses along his neck while he wandered off towards the bedroom. 

Usually when you and Simon had sex, you always had to prompt or remind him to remove some of his own clothing, and not just your own. Always too eager to please you that he never stopped to think about himself much. That time, however, was different. As soon as he set you on the edge of the bed, he slipped his shirt off of his body so quickly the fabric nearly tore. There was this primal and untamed need unfolding between the two of you. This feral need to be consumed, to feel the heat from his skin bleed into yours, was overwhelming. 

Once both of your clothing had been removed, Simon was on top of you like a starved dog. Normally the two of you took things slow, passionate, but still slow. You’d toy with one another until you couldn’t take it anymore, but this was different. This had been months of desire that had been too muted by anguish to fully surface; so much backed up emotion that had nowhere else to go but out. 

Simon’s teeth grazed against your skin as if tempted to eat you alive and instead settled for sucking on one of your hardened nipples. Your back arched in an attempt to press more of yourself against him, needing to be closer to him; unable to take the waiting any longer. By the time his lips returned to yours, you felt the hot tip of his cock press against your entrance. The stretch of him had almost grown to be unfamiliar after such a long period of abstinence, but he took things slow as he pressed forward inch by agonizing inch. 

When he bottomed out, he stayed there for a while as he did nothing but grind against the rubbery tissue of your cervix, and there was a dull sting there as you adjusted to the sheer girth of him. He didn’t start moving until you groaned and began to rock your hips against his, making him grind deeper into you. So he pulled out and shoved himself back inside of you, stealing away any thoughts in your mind or words on the tip of your tongue. 

Each thrust pulled out a string of mindless curses and praises from your lips as the tips of your fingers dug into his sides. There was something cleansing about it all. It was raw, needy, and intrinsic; some sort of necessity that you didn’t know how you ever lived without. Every jolt against your fluttering walls felt like being reborn, every rub of his thumb against your clit unsullied you. The raging heat that built up in your stomach scorched away any rot remaining inside of you, leaving nothing but smoldering embers in its wake. Your orgasm washed over you like an ocean wave, scrubbing you clean of all the filth that clung to your body and soul, and by the time Simon emptied himself in you, it was like no one had ever stained you to begin with. 

Simon toppled to the side where his body crashed onto the bed next to you and his arms enveloped you into his side as if welcoming you home. The two of you laid there for quite some times as both orgasms and panting waned, enjoying the sticky heat of one another in a way that you hadn’t for what felt like an eternity. Even then you couldn’t get enough of him. Not the way you curled perfectly into his side, or the way his heart thudded in his chest underneath your head. It was something you’d never get tired of feeling. 

“Your heart’s still beating hard,” you noticed as you ran a finger up his chest. 

“Out of shape,” he excused while he gave you a firm squeeze. 

“Yeah right, Mr. I-Go-To-The-Gym-Four-Days-A-Week,” you teased.

“Cardio’s different.” 

“Fucking is cardio?” 

“Mhm.” 

Things fell quiet after that. There was nothing but the sound of your own breathing and Simon’s heart still thudding painfully fast. You tapped your finger on his chest in time with his heartbeat, hardly realizing how quickly it seemed to settle underneath your touch as if you had commanded it to. Everything was still, and a slight rumble reverberated in Simon’s chest as he began to lightly snore. Smiling to yourself, you nuzzled closer into his side as you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to take back the rest that had been stolen from you that morning. 

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

When Simon woke up the bed was empty and it was no longer light outside. He was still naked, but the blanket had been pulled over his body as if someone was worried he would get cold. Sweat soaked sheets clung to his back as he sat up, muscles aching and protesting the movement, and he shivered at the sensation. Still groggy, he stumbled in the dark over to the dresser before finding a myriad of mismatching yet still comfortable clothes to change into. 

Not bothering to fix up anything else about his appearance, he exited the bedroom to find you cooking in the kitchen. One of his shirts adorned your torso as you lazily mixed away at the food you had cooking in the pan, producing an aroma that had Boo impatiently sitting by your feet with a flicking tail. He stood there in silence and watched you for some time, and that unfamiliar and heavy pounding in his chest began to plague him once more. The floorboard settled underneath his feet as he eventually meandered his way next to you, and you looked over your shoulder with a small grin. 

“About time you woke up,” you teased. “Dinner’s almost ready if you want to grab a few plates.” 

He gave you nothing in response but a simple nod of his head before he searched through the cupboards. Having given up on trying to convince you, Boo attempted to paw at Simon’s leg to ask for some of whatever you cooked, but he ignored the poor critter as he set the plates on the counter next to you. Soon enough you had the food dished and the two of you sat at the small dining room table with a very vocal transgressor weaving around underneath the table. You chuckled and cooed quietly at your poor, suffering cat before giving him a bit of food in a peace offering, one that he sniffed before promptly vanishing to cause chaos somewhere else in the house. 

You turned your attention to Simon who sat on the other side of the table from you. You were a little surprised that he didn’t have anything to say about Boo turning away from the food, as he had been harassing the poor thing all day. Despite your close proximity, his eyes looked anywhere but you as he ate. Smaller bites than usual, you noticed. And though silence wasn’t odd coming from him, this sort of quietness felt odd. 

“I’m thinking about starting job hunting,” you said, trying to get a conversation started. “Things have been going well with counseling and all that, and my therapist thinks it’s a good move for me. I’ll try to stay far away from financials this time though.” 

It was as if he hadn’t realized you had spoken to him. Eyes still glassy, he turned his attention to you after a beat and finished swallowing his food before nodding. He then turned his attention back down to his plate as he worked on shoveling more food into his mouth. 

“Yeah. That’ll be good,” he said curtly. 

You bit the inside of your lip at his answer and you felt your legs start to bounce in anticipation. Something was wrong. Incredibly so. Usually things were the other way around. You were supposed to be the one awkwardly avoiding gazes and giving short answers. Though Simon wasn’t exactly one to talk your ear off, he was a phenomenal communicator and always had been. 

So what changed?

“Simon?”

Finally, his eyes landed on you. The warm and dark hue of his eyes bore into you as if analyzing your features and burning them into his memory as if he would never look at you again. You attempted a small smile, but it looked more worried than anything else. Still, you found your left hand reaching out for him, and despite his sudden coldness he took it into his without hesitation. 

“Everything alright?” you asked. 

Once more he nodded, but this time gave your hand a firm squeeze in the process. “Right as rain.” 

There wasn’t any hint of untruthfulness in his voice, and yet his gaze still tore away from you once again in favor of looking down at your hand. In a childish sort of curiosity, he placed his fork down and held your hand with both of his before prodding at the tips of your fingers. The feeling of it took you back to that night nearly two years ago when both you and Simon had been laying in bed. You had just been released from the hospital, and the doctor had ordered him to watch the blood flow in your arm. He spent half the night poking at your fingers just to watch the color ebb and flow in your nail beds.

“Ischemia,” you said with a slight wiggle of your fingers.

“Ischemia,” Simon repeated. 

Dinner long forgotten, he continued with his assessment of your hand, and though you were still a little worried, you sat there and studied him in silence. Something swirled in his mind. You could see it in the tension in his lips and the lines settling on his forehead. In one last effort to pull out the ideas clouding his thoughts, you leaned forward and tilted your head to the side. 

“I love you,” you whispered. 

“I want to marry you.” 

Both of you fell still. Every muscle in your body tensed but also turned into liquid in some sort of terrible state of existence, like you were ready to jump out of the chair and phase right through it at the same time. Simon's eyes were finally on you again. He said those words like they were still supposed to be chained up. Hidden away behind lock and key in his throat. Instead they were out in the open and bouncing around in your skull on repeat. 

“What?” you breathed, unsure if you had even heard him correctly. 

Simon’s hands gripped yours as he carefully slipped out of his seat and onto the floor next to you. Every molecule of air ripped out of your lungs at that moment, and your free hand covered your mouth in disbelief. You wanted to speak up, to ask him what he was doing as if you didn’t already know the answer, and yet it was like sand had clogged your throat. All you could do was sit there in your chair as he got on his knees on the floor next to you. 

“I want to marry you,” he repeated with more confidence. “I’ve wanted to for a while. Just never felt like a good time. But I’m tired of pretendin’ like I don’t need you. You’re everything to me and I don’t wanna go a day without you.” 

Tears started to flow down your cheeks by that point and you kept your hand clasped tightly over your mouth in fear of the sob that you might let out if you didn’t. He laughed, not at you but at himself, and the tense smile that accompanied it nearly made you melt. 

“Fuck, I… I don’t have a ring, or a plan really. All I know is that I don’t wanna go another day without being yours. Imagined we could figure out the rest later,” he continued while he gave your hand a firm squeeze. “It’s up to you, sweetheart.” 

Your arms were around his neck before you were able to choke out your answer, and you nearly caused the man to topple over. His hands wrapped around you to keep things steady while you shamelessly sobbed into the crook of his neck. Hot, fat tears soaked the fabric of his shirt while you blubbered your answer over and over:

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes…” 

Nothing would make your scars fade. Nightmares would always be around to haunt you in some capacity no matter how much time had passed since you escaped that basement. But you had a new home where blood didn’t stain the floor, and the walls were pristine in shape and color. You would never be able to outrun the past, and you wouldn’t be able to obtain the life your mother always wished you had, but all she ever really wanted was for you to find someone that would take care of you. 

The world was cruel and had rarely treated you with kindness. And still, despite everything, it had given you Simon Riley, and you knew that you would cherish him for the rest of your life.

hi (: just dropping by real quick to say that if you guys plan on leaving asks concerning soft spot to please read this post here before you do! thanks

tags: @ghostlythots @archonsabyss @crowbird @beware-my-thorns @koko-1025 @nessaasstuff @escapefromrealitysm @babygirl-riley @theloneshadow24 @ashableketchup @violet-19999 @paigetaylor628 @curlygirls-world @gaebestie @datlilwrench @ryisghost @suffering-and-happy-about-it @achelois-is-here @spookyscaryspoon @vampykween @tapioca-milktea1978 @perfectus-in-morte @comeonatmebruh

[antisocialties]

Hi, so some time ago I read "Late night calls" that you wrote (wonderful, by the way) and I had an idea

Back in the day when the boys were moving to L.A. The reader, the boys' best friend and Matt's girlfriend, is also moving, and with all the moving and work stuff, Matt and she are not having much time together and are stressed. So they basically find a day to talk and do nothing together.

(Sorry if it's too long or confusing, thanks)

Lazy Day.

Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: in which moving and work puts too much pressure on Matt and the reader so they find a day to spend time together alone.

Warnings: Stressful situations are mentioned, and as always profanity is used.

Things had been incredibly chaotic and way too busy lately.

With you and the boys both in the midst of moving to LA, going back and forth between both of their homes and both of your own while also having to keep up with releasing content for your viewers there was loads of pressure on you guys at pretty much all times of the day.

You noticed that Matt and you rarely got any alone time anymore and it definitely saddened you.

Of course you were still very thankful for the nights you got to spend cuddled up beside him while you dozed off, but you missed being able to spend alone time with your boyfriend pretty much whenever you wanted to.

Today when you woke up beside him after deciding last night that you’d be staying at his place since your bed had still not been delivered, you had made your mind up. You were tired of not having the choice to being alone with him with no responsibilities.

You turned over on your side to face him, taking in the peaceful look on his face while he slept.

You felt guilty for waking him up but knew he’d be happy about what he was being woken up for.

You raised your hand to softly graze the side of his face a few times, hoping to wake him up gently.

He stirred a bit, taking in a deep breath and stretching before lying flat on his back.

“Matt?”

He made some sort of noise in response that told you he definitely was not fully conscious yet.

“Wake up, you goof.” You giggled before shaking his shoulder a little.

“Hmm?” He questioned opening his eyes, and meeting yours.

“We should hangout today, just us.”

He rubbed his eyes, sitting up and looking down at you still laying on your side.

You sat up so you’d be close to eye level with him.

“Yeah? I have been thinking about taking a day off from everything for sure.” He responded, looking at you intently probably awaiting further explanation.

“It definitely sounds more than amazing, but I wanted to ask what you would wanna do.”

“How about we visit that park we found a while ago?”

“Yes! It’s beautiful over there, i’d love to just bring a blanket and chill there for a while.”

“Alright it’s settled, that’s what we’re doing today.” He stated, stretching and standing up.

Before long it had been a few hours since you guys made your plans and then let Nic and Chris know you’d be busy for the day as you ate breakfast.

Now you were getting dressed to go out, planning your outfits around the nice weather and with the intention of potentially taking pictures.

“Hey y/n, go ahead and just meet me in the kitchen whenever you’re ready.” Matt spoke after softly knocking on the door to his room.

“Okay, i’ll be there in just a second!” You replied, putting your shoes on and grabbing your phone.

You reached for his door, pulling it open and stepping into the hallway before shutting it behind you.

He was already waiting next to the kitchen counter when you got there.

“You ready to go?” He asked, picking up his keys.

“Yep.” You responded, heading to the door.

You enjoyed the comfortable silence other than the music playing at a subtle level as the two of you drove.

You were relieved to finally be in just his company, no responsibilities or worries weighing down on your shoulders today.

“So are you excited that we’re almost done moving?” Matt spoke up.

“Yeah, i’ll be especially glad when all of the furniture for my apartment comes in. I need my bed.” You laughed.

“You and I both, i’m exhausted going back and forth every few days.”

As much as you loved going back to Boston to see your family and friends, you didn’t like doing it this often and for the purpose of bringing most of your things to your new place. Thankfully you were still leaving a good half of your belongings in your room at your parents’ house, but because of that it meant you were waiting for most of the furniture you had ordered to go into your new place; and any of your clothes or personal effects you wanted out here that would fit in your car and the small uhaul you had rented.

You looked at your surroundings seeing the greenery in the distance and knowing you had arrived at your destination. The car came to a stop as he parked, and your hands slowly moved to your seatbelt buckle before you heard the sound of his keys leaving the ignition and you both unbuckling.

Your legs carried you to the front of the car, Matt following and reaching his hand out to grab yours; a large blanket held in the other.

The feeling of the blades of grass being crushed under your feet and the wind kissing your skin and blowing through your hair sent you into a state of relaxation you had yet to feel the last few weeks.

Matt led you to a quiet spot in the middle of the park, the sun shining over the deep green fluffy grass as it peeked through the clouds. The surrounding trees provided somewhat of a sanctuary around the both of you.

You helped him spread the blanket out on the lawn before plopping yourself onto the ground in the center of it, him following suit and wrapping his arm around your shoulder.

Your head placed itself on his own shoulder as you leaned into the side of his neck, finding comfort and solace in not only the warmth but the sound of his quiet and steady breathing as you heard nothing else other than the rest of the world simply passing by.

The wind swaying the trees, the birds chirping every now and then, the somewhat muted voices of random people coming from every direction as they’re engulfed in their own personal little worlds. Sometimes all you needed was to think about how big the world was and how you were only one small detail in something so complex, but how comforting and grounding it could be to be aware of such things.

“I’m glad we came out here.” Matt spoke softly, rubbing the side of your arm in a slow up and down motion as he held you.

“Yeah, my social battery honestly is pretty worn down and I really needed this.” You agreed.

“Just think though, pretty soon we can come out here whenever we want and do this.”

You hummed in acknowledgment before lifting your head up off of him and lying directly on your back, looking up at him as he turned to observe your actions. He copied them, lying beside you and lifting your neck up to place his arm underneath.

Shifting onto your side, you laid your head on his chest just below his chin with your arm stretched across him.

“I love you.” You spoke, a long breath leaving your lungs shortly after.

“I love you more.” He smiled, tracing circles into the small of your back.

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

sorry if this is a little shorter than expected, and i’m so sorry for taking so long to finish this request! in all honesty i had to almost completely rewrite this bc i really didn’t like what i originally wrote and it was giving me writers block. i’m really glad it’s finally finished though and i’m decently pleased with the outcome, but i really hope you and everyone else reading this enjoy!

also to anyone that’s sent in requests or would like to send one in, i’m still writing them and will be working on those directly after! i do apologize for the delay the last few months. i am still taking requests, i just can’t promise they’ll all be out this month but i’m really hoping they are lol. i absolutely love writing i’m just very over critical of my own work and get in my head too much sometimes, not to mention i experience creative blocks pretty regularly. but on another note i have started a buy me a coffee which is linked in my pinned intro if anyone would like to support me and my works!

also just a friendly reminder, anyone can comment or pm me to be added to my tag list at anytime!

ps sorry for any typos, i do proofread but obviously i am still human and i’m actually dyslexic lol so i do occasionally miss stuff.

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

tag list: @caseysturniolozzz @sturniolomads @stxrniqlo @mettsturniolo @orangetreekid @iluvmatt @lomlolivia @thetriplets3 @fake-coolbeans @lollibumblebee

[bravo4iscool]

HIIII I LOVE UR WRITING SO MUCHHH!! CAN U DO A NEIGHBOUR!GRAVES AND READER JUST MOVED INTO THE NEIGHBOURHOOD SOMETHING LIKE THAT? THANK U ML🖤

HIII IM GLAD YOU LIKE IT HAHAHA. AND THANK YOU SO MUCH🤍🤍. as someone who’s a crazy perfectionist compliments and asks like that mean the absolute WORLD to me😭🫶🏼

this would be my first time writing something for graves but i’ll try my best!! i hope this isn’t too ooc for him, since i’ve never experienced him in the game before. i only have mw (since christmas lol) not mwII🥲

(masterlist)

REQUESTS/ASKS OPEN!

You hated moving. You absolutely hated moving. There was too much stress, too much heaving and too many boxes. Pretty much too much of everything.

You curse as you bend down to pick up another box when someone calls out for you: “Excuse me,” you straighten up and again turn around.

There’s a man standing a couple meters away from you, smiling. “Do you need help?” he asks and your expression changes from confused to surprised. “I’m Phillip by the way. I live in the flat beside yours,” he adds, remaining in his position.

“I uh-“ you look around you, staring at all the boxes, just waiting to be moved. “I think I could use help, yes…” you nervously chuckle, wiping a couple strands of hair out of your face. You really weren’t made for labour; absolutely not.

He smiles again and steps closer. “Which one is the heaviest?” he asks and you think for a moment. You didn’t really know…

“I guess that one,” you point at the one with all of your kitchen utensils. “I had help packing my car so I don’t really know which one is the most heavy.” You blush, rubbing your neck. Why is he making you all squirmy? You literally just met him.

“Alight,” he claps his hands together and picks that box up with ease. You stare at him for a second before you remind yourself that you should do the exact same. You try to follow him as fast as you can, almost tripping over your feet. You really can‘t get by without embarrassing yourself…

„You can just..put it here,“ you instruct him when you reached your flat, placing your box on the floor and pointing to your kitchen. „I‘ll sort it in later.“ He grunts out a ‚okay‘ and sets the box down.

And so you and him pick up box after box, placing them in your flat while you try to already sort them after their belongings. When the last box is safely secured in your bedroom you wipe your forehead and smile at him. „Thank you so much Phillip. I don’t think I would‘ve been able to do it so fast without you.“ You blush once again when he returns your smile, readjusting the sleeves of his sweatshirt.

„It was a pleasure,“ he cocks his head, looking around and heading for the door.

You walk two steps into his direction, „Can I thank you with a dinner? Obviously not…yet,“ you nervously chuckle and look around. It would take one or two weeks to fully settle in but…

He stops and turns around. „Dinner sounds good.“ He winks and you feel yourself blushing even more. You know him since like one hour. Why were you going crazy over him?

„Thank you again.“

„Not for that,“ he waves it off, saying one last ‚see you soon‘ before he leaves you alone in the mess that‘s supposed to be your new flat…

[luneariaa]

ღ || faciens certus.

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : { ps5 } harry osborn x reader.

✰ 𝐰. 𝐜. : 1k+

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : harry stays over your place for the night, and tries his best to convince you that he's alright.

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : just pure fluff bc he deserves the world <33

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! 🏹

"Just your luck."

You simply said at the auburn-haired male, who just arrived at your place. He settled himself comfortably by the couch of your home, as it started to rain quite heavily outside, hitting every part of the window that's present.

"Gotta admit that I missed the rain. It's been heating up so badly lately." You handed him the glass of hot chocolate with a small smile.

Harry thanked you while grabbing the drink that you gave him, keeping his eyes on you even after he does so.

"Yeah, it feels nice, doesn't it? I mean, the rain makes it colder than usual, but still nice in its' own way."

You nodded a bit as you returned his occasional brief gazes, before shifting your eyes at the TV, which has lost its' signal due to the harsh weather outside, which prompted you to switch it off for now.

Harry gradually puts the glass of his now finished drink down on the table nearby, before letting his eyes stayed upon your standing figure. "Mind if I stay over for the night?"

"You're always welcome to stay here, Har."

An appreciative smile is plastered across his handsome face, deciding to walk toward your direction after bringing a chair along with him, placing it just next to yours. All while his gaze never once averted elsewhere.

"Mhm, you kept staring at me for the past few minutes."

"Got something in your mind?"

The auburn-haired male elicited a chuckle, now managing to fully catch your attention.

"Honestly?"

"I was just thinking, like, you know-- those old times where we used to spend our time with each other here, watching movies till the early hours of dawn.."

By this point, his eyes are shifted elsewhere as he continued further. "My illness, my dad sort of.. kept me away from meeting you before. Surely, there are valid reasons, but still.."

"It's just nice being able to see you again like this with no one else around."

"Ah, I get that." You leaned your back against the chair you're sitting on comfortably. "I missed you for that too."

"But.."

"Nothing's gonna happen to you after this, right..?" You don't know what has driven you to ask such a question since he is, well, already there looking all healthy and fine. You couldn't help yourself-- the deep fear of potentially losing him in any time scares you so much.

His smile gradually falters upon hearing your words; simply because he wasn't expecting that type of response from you-- not in a bad way though.

"You don't have to worry about me. Nothing's going to happen anytime soon. I've taken care of everything."

Harry tried his best to reassure you, yet deep down, he hated himself for a bit due to how much he worried you.

Maintaining his cheery demeanor, he forces himself to bury the feelings of guilt deep within him, knowing quite well that you have every right to feel this concerned over his wellbeing.

He doesn't want to be a liar, but he had to, for your sake. He cared about you too much to see you in this state.

Harry just.. wanted to be normal again, and he missed how things were between you two.

"Nothing's gonna stop that now, right?"

You eventually nodded it off, processing his words within your mind. "Yeah, you got a point."

"I'm sorry, I just.."

Any other thoughts are being shut out for now, his focus-- full of pure tenderness, is now completely on you.

"Hey, you don't have to apologize."

"Just please.. Don't worry about it anymore, okay? It makes me all sad seeing you this way about me. I appreciate you for that, always."

You eventually nodded, albeit wordlessly; not knowing what to say as a reply. Sensing the sudden slight of change, Harry finally decided to stand in front of you-- placing a finger gently beneath your chin.

"I'm fine, see?" He then grabs ahold of one of your hands while squeezing it lightly, which made you stand with him as well. The shared gazes lasted longer than necessary, but none of you cared much.

Just by the way your eyes looked up into his own; it's enough to make his heart race and melt at the same time. Dare he say-- you're so precious to him. He would shamelessly show it through his actions, even after all these years.

Even words couldn't be described with the way you gazed at him like that-- it's too much, yet never enough.

Slowly, and delicately, he guides your hand towards where his heart is; allowing you to feel the beat of his heart, and how he's very much alive to you.

He wouldn't lie, but he smiles so fondly, noticing on how his heart picks up just by the mere touch of your palm against his chest.

"Feel it as much you want."

"Isn't this nice?"

The warmth radiates from your hand alone, but you thought the opposite-- thinking that his heart and body are the ones who provide the most warmth. You needed this.

He's standing in front of you and alive. That's what matters.

A warm chuckle escaped from your lips, trying your best to stay composed since you started to feel a little giddy and silly.

"You're right.. This feels comforting."

All while letting his soft grip upon your hand stays, he now moves your hand from his chest, and onto his forehead. "You can-- I mean, check for my temperature as well, just to try convince yourself further, yeah?"

In truth, he just wanted to feel your touch for much longer, especially right at this moment. The rain outside was almost being forgotten.

Harry smiled over his own words; partly joking about it, but at the same time, he wasn't. You returned his actions with such ease, simply letting your hand stay upon his forehead for a bit longer.

You were being cautious as ever, as if not wanting to accidentally hurt him or anything in that way.

"You don't have to be so careful, you know," he remarks, finding your actions quite amusing to behold, to which you simply laughed it off.

"But I wanted to."

You did something that could be considered as bold afterwards; where you actually gave his cheek a small, yet sweet kiss. It's quite new, as you never had the courage to do something as such despite being friends for years.

"That should take all the remaining sickness away, hopefully."

As much as a sap you're being right now, you couldn't help yourself, especially when he keeps his gaze at you like that. He's just so.. You can't even resist him; feeling the urge to squish him if he was a plushie or anything akin to it.

It's just a kiss on the cheek, but why would he freeze and appear to be surprised by the sudden gesture? You're scared if you might have gotten too far with your actions--

But then, his expression is failing him once the reddish hue starts to form upon his cheeks, sharing a sweet and heartwarming laugh along with you.

Harry knows how much you cared for him; on how gentle you are with him. Even if the whole ordeal turns out to be a platonic one, he wouldn't mind the slightest, as long as you are within it.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are alright. all rights reserved.

[saline-coelacanth]

Rambling some more about that one Kai au I've been thinking about lately

First of all, I'm thinking about calling this the "Scorched Au" since it sounds cool and also as a reference to the term "Scorched Earth" since that describes Kai very well in this au

So one part of the au is that the others all think Kai is dead because how could he have survived the volcano erupting? And again, Kai didn't unlock his true potential so they never saw him safely fly out of the volcano afterwards. Kai also lays low for a while. He takes some inspiration from Nya when she became Samurai X and decides to hide his identity, so even if the ninja run into him they don't recognize him at first.

Kai still uses the sword of fire but he also uses the fangblade that he's continued holding onto since managing to grab it before it fell in the lava. And he obviously still has his spinjitzu and normal hand-to-hand combat skills. He sort of goes around doing "vigilante justice" when in reality he's just sort of beating up anyone who gets in his way.

One other idea I thought of is Kai messing around with dark magic. One thing that he focuses a lot on is what more he needs to do to unlock his true potential, and his main belief is simply that he isn't strong enough. So he ends up teaching himself dark magic with a spell book he stole from some library or something like that (I haven't fully decided yet) And it's through the dark magic that he learns to "control fire" though it's not the same as if he were using his elemental powers. He basically learns a bunch of fire spells to make up for the fact that he hasn't unlocked his true potential. This also manages to fool the others into thinking Kai DID unlock his true potential even though it's just dark magic.

I also haven't thought of a name for Kai when he's going undercover since he should probably have one. I know I could just go with "Red Shogun" since that's already a name he's given himself, but idk I feel like that name doesn't really fit the design I've been working on. The design is more of a rogue type thing. I thought of something like the Scorched Shinobi since shinobi is just another word for ninja and it also fits with the au name but idk if I've fully settled on that just yet (though I am becoming fond of it)

And one more thing that I almost forgot to mention is Nya since she's pretty important to this au. So obviously Kai is pretty mad at the other ninja, but the only person he doesn't actively attack or threaten is Nya since despite everything that happened, she's still his little sister. And one other idea I had revolving around Nya is that since Kai ran off to go be evil, Master Wu decides that it's probably best to tell Nya about her water powers now and train her in them instead of waiting until season 5 to do so. Idk that just made sense to me and it might also cause Kai to spiral a bit more because he already had to deal with the fact that Nya doesn't need him anymore because of the whole Samurai X stuff. But now finding out that she has elemental powers as well would not help with his whole situation of feeling like the team never needed him and that he wasn't worthy. Idk I feel like I'm just spit balling at this point now

But anyway, this was sort of just aimless ramblings from me. Even if this doesn't become a main-stay au for my blog, I still wanna write my ideas somewhere for people to read.

[inawickedlittletown]

Tell Me Where To Put My Love (buddie one-shot)

Summary: There was no way that Eddie could have ever actually pointed to the moment when he realized that he was not as straight as he had always thought.

701 reaction fic, because Eddie may have a girlfriend but that doesn't mean he isn't also pining for Buck.

Words: 3,040

Read on Ao3

-

There was no way that Eddie could have ever actually pointed to the moment when he realized that he was not as straight as he had always thought. What Eddie did know, was that of course it revolved around Buck. Eddie was oh so very attracted to Buck. What Eddie also knew was that his best friend was actually as straight as could be and that Eddie had absolutely no chance. It didn’t stop him from how he felt when Buck just casually mentioned he and Natalia had broken up. How even after he and Buck had departed the firehouse and gotten into their own cars, he hadn’t stopped smiling. It took a while to remind himself that Buck being single changed nothing. 

For one thing, Eddie had his own sort of girlfriend — not that they had discussed labeling anything yet. For another, Buck was not attracted to men. Eddie did think that he was hasty in repeating that to himself all the time, considering his own realizations about his sexuality, and yet it was one of the ways he could protect himself. Buck was unattainable in that way and Eddie needed him in his — and Christopher’s — life any way that they could keep him. 

A few days later, he leaned against the wall outside Christopher’s room and listened in as Buck parented Christopher. His heart was breaking in his chest as his son’s voice drifted towards him. What had seemed like a silly problem when he was telling Buck and nudging Buck in the direction of being the one to deal with it, was suddenly far more than Eddie had expected. 

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but eventually he couldn’t handle it anymore. It took knowing that his son was safe with Buck and that Buck could handle it, to keep him from rushing into Chris’ room. His feet took him to his own room and he sank down on the bed. He had no idea just how badly it still hurt Chris. His eyes were unfocused, staring right at the wall and trying to imagine how he had somehow missed that his son was still struggling. It was just like when Chris had been freaking out thinking that he would lose Eddie due to his job. 

Buck found him later and with a gentle touch to the shoulder had Eddie looking at him.

“You okay?” Buck’s eyes were so blue and they held so much worry, so much warmth. 

“I don’t know what to feel,” Eddie said, truthfully. “I just can’t believe it.”

“It makes sense,” Buck said. 

Without prompting Buck sat down next to him, so close that Eddie could feel his body warmth. It took everything in Eddie to not move closer, to lean into him and let his weight settle on Buck with the full knowledge that Buck would catch him. 

“It was a bit of a joke, I know, but I was the way I was for a reason,” Buck said. “Going from one girl or guy to another. Told Bobby once I thought I was a sex addict. I was looking for connection, for someone that would care about me and see past all the things that made me easy to only be good for one night. And when I thought I found that person, she left me. I think I was an ever bigger mess…probably still am a bit.”

Eddie felt like he was short circuiting, like something in his head wasn’t clicking together. He couldn’t fully comprehend what Buck was saying, stuck on one part. 

“Eddie?” 

Eddie couldn’t form words. 

“Look,” Buck said and he shuffled closer, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s. “The good thing is we know why he was talking to all those girls and didn’t understand it wasn’t the right approach. Maybe it would help if you talked to him about his mom.” 

This was about Chris. It was about Chris remaining on the right track and not becoming a player, about Chris learning to respect the girls he dated, namely by dating one at a time. It was also about the root of the problem, the trauma of losing his mom. Eddie couldn’t make it about himself no matter how much he wanted to ask Buck to clarify. 

“I think it’d be better coming from her,” Eddie said, finding words. “She wrote him a letter. About the time when she left us in Texas, but it will work now too. I never…I thought I would give it to him eventually, didn’t know he actually probably needed it a long time ago.”

Buck’s shoulder pressed against his, remaining there. “If you think that will help, then go for it.”

Eddie thought it would help. And if it didn’t then Eddie would have to have a talk to Chris about Shannon and about dating and relationships and the complicated way to navigate romantic feelings. He had his own hardships with all of that which probably didn’t help matters at all. He wondered how much of Chris’ struggle was Eddie’s fault too. 

“I should probably go,” Buck said. “You’ll tell me how it goes?” 

“Of course.” 

Eddie heard Buck talking to Chris again and then the front door open and close. Meanwhile, Eddie let his mind linger on what Buck had said. Going from one girl or guy to another. Said so casually as if Eddie should have already known that despite the fact that in the time Eddie had known him there had been Abby and Ali and Taylor and most recently Natalia. No guys. At least none that Buck had ever spoken about. 

He wished he’d actually commented on it, made a point of showing Buck he’d noticed what he said and yet that was a can of worms that would lead to places Eddie didn’t know he was ready for. Except his need to know was going to drive him crazy, not least because if Buck really was attracted to guys as well, then Eddie had something of a chance. And Buck was single now. 

Eddie knew exactly where the letter was, but he didn’t go to Chris immediately. Instead, he cleaned a little and when his phone rang, he was only a little reluctant to answer and it wasn’t entirely because he wished it had been Buck calling. 

“Hey,” Marisol said. Her voice was cheerful. It was so different than Eddie’s mood. 

“Hi,” Eddie said. 

“How did it go?” she asked. 

Eddie liked Marisol. Since the whole thing with Ana, it had been so refreshing to find Marisol. She was down to earth and fun to hang out with. It was easy with her, there was no pressure. She got along with Chris. Didn’t push him past the place they had gotten to. Considering everything — including his feelings for Buck — Eddie was aware that as much as a possibility for a future between them existed, so too existed the opposite. An end. 

“What?”

“Oh, I thought you were having Buck talk to Chris,” Marisol said. 

“Yes. Yes. That did happen,” Eddie said. “Went alright, I think. I’m gonna talk to him about it too. Later.”

Marisol chuckled. “That’s good. He’s such a sweet kid. It’s a good thing he has a dad like you.”

One thing that he really liked about Marisol was that as much as she liked Christopher, she respected boundaries. It was so entirely different from Ana. Eddie hadn’t realized until long after he broke it off with Ana, how quickly Ana had tried to carve a place in their lives as if Chris was in desperate need of a second parent. Ana would have balked at the idea of Buck taking on the conversation with Chris. Marisol had only laughed and pat Eddie on the back and told him to wish Buck luck. 

“I think serious dating is still a long ways away, but I’d rather my kid not get a reputation this early on. Can you imagine?” 

“Considering the kids I went to school with. Yes,” Marisol said. “I’m glad you’re not alone in all of this. It must be so helpful to have Buck.”

At some point, Eddie would have balked at the importance of Buck in his life…in Christopher’s life. Except that, these days it felt so normal almost like Buck had become Chris’ second dad somehow. 

“Hey, Marisol, do you think it’s a little strange?”

“What?”

“That I asked Buck to talk to Chris,” Eddie said. 

She chuckled again. “No. I mean, you said he has more experience, right? Like you’d involve anyone in your life to help your kid. And those two are pretty close. You all are. The way Chris talks about him, and the way that you involve him in everything. It’s pretty clear that Buck is part of your family.”

There was something about how she said it, like there was no question about where Buck fit and how. 

“So you don’t find it odd,” Eddie said. 

“Eddie, why are you asking me all this?” 

“I don’t know…I just…I guess I was thinking about Chris’ dating issue and Buck said something and now I’m—”

“You’re realizing that you have feelings for him,” Marisol finished for him and weirdly Eddie could hear the smile in her words. 

“You—”

“You’re not hard to read, Eddie. And this has been fun…I don’t want to lose your friendship, but maybe you should be talking to Buck.” She didn’t even sound sad or anything, just resigned. Like she had been expecting this. 

Eddie inhaled a breath. After a moment Marisol said goodbye and Eddie dropped his phone on the nearest surface. That was not at all how he had expected that to go. He gave himself some time to collect himself and then switched to dad mode. 

He could tell that Chris was still having complicated emotions when he went to find him. The one picture he had of Shannon was turned over and Eddie let himself wonder for a moment how long it had been that way, but he didn’t say anything about it. It was awkward and Chris wouldn’t look directly at him, but he took the letter even if he didn’t open the envelope or read it. Without much else to say, Eddie left him and hoped the time alone would help. 

Eddie made himself clean up the kitchen and tidy up the living room. Kept cleaning until he realized that he should have been figuring out dinner instead. 

Chris looked in better spirits when Eddie checked on him again, and the picture of Shannon was standing upright again. There was plenty that Eddie could say and yet words didn’t want to come, not when they might ruin whatever comfort Chris had managed to get. Instead, he ordered them pizza and when it arrived, things seemed lighter. Chris didn’t say anything about the letter or the talk with Buck and Eddie didn’t think he should bring it up just yet. 

When Christopher had gone to bed, Eddie remained in the living room. He really should have headed to bed himself, except that having Chris mostly squared away meant that he could focus on Buck’s words. Going from one girl or guy to another. 

As far as Eddie was concerned, Buck had been a womanizer back in the time before Eddie knew him. He was reformed, by his own wording, and Eddie had really only ever seen him in what could be considered relationships. Not flings or one-night stands or whatever. Even the whole thing with Taylor had been more serious than any of them liked. Eddie had been entirely too happy when it ended. There had never been any guys. Maybe Buck kept that to himself or maybe Eddie hadn’t been paying attention. 

Maddie would know for sure, probably, but Eddie wasn’t calling her. Bobby might know, but he was hardly an option considering he was on a cruise and Eddie didn’t want to bother him. There was Hen, but with Hen came more questions…questions aimed at Eddie. Eddie was hardly ready for that. 

His phone rang first. This time it really was Buck. Eddie couldn’t help his smile as he answered. 

“Hey, Buck.” 

“And?” Buck asked. 

“Gave him the letter. Seems like it’s better. He heard you and he heard his mom and now I’ll just wait and see if he needs me to say more.”

Buck laughed, “Ah, I see, you got out of being a parent for this one.” 

“I have excellent help,” Eddie said. “Really, Buck, don’t know what I would do without you. There’s only so much that I can actually handle on my own.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Buck said. “Giving your kid dating advice.” 

Eddie snorted. “Better you than I. You know my dating history. You, on the other hand, have so much history I doubt we’ve even discussed it all.” 

“Probably not,” Buck said. 

Eddie took a breath. “What are you doing right now?” 

“Nothing. Why?” 

“Well, I don’t think I’ll be going to bed any time soon, want to come over?” 

Buck agreed pretty quickly. Hanging up in order to grab his jacket and put on shoes to head down from his apartment to his car and drive over. Eddie felt giddy, but then he was always glad to see Buck. It felt…well, maybe not different, but like there were possibilities and Eddie just had to be brave. 

Buck arrived with a six pack and a grin. “Better to drink with friends.” 

They made it to the living room and because it was the usual for them, they found their places on Eddie’s sofa. 

“Are you still worried?” Buck asked. 

Eddie fixed him with a look as he lifted his bottle to his lips. “I’m a dad. I’ll always worry. But I think he’ll always be dealing with not having his mom around.”

“One way or another, our parents will always mess us up,” Buck said. 

Eddie reached over to tap his bottle to Buck’s. “I guess I’m hoping he’ll be better than both of us.” 

“Of course he will. No doubt about that.” 

Eddie leaned back on the sofa’s armrest. He looked at Buck, taking him in. He was big, not just in how his body was shaped with the strength that he carried physically. It was his personality, the depth of the way that he cared. He was absolutely gorgeous, the bluest eyes, with the most distinctive birthmark and a smile that made hearts skip a beat. Eddie wanted to kiss that smile, to taste the beer on Buck’s lips. 

“What?” Buck asked. 

It wasn’t that there was some kind of clock on it, exactly, because if there was one thing that Eddie knew, it was that Buck would always be there. His best friend. No matter what…they had been through enough and still they had each other. Nothing could change that. 

“I was thinking,” Eddie said. 

“I don’t know if that’s safe.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Earlier, you said girls or guys. I had no idea you…”

Buck’s smile faded. He looked away from Eddie, hand rubbing the back of his neck, before his eyes looked back up and found Eddie’s. 

“I’m bi,” Buck said. “I guess I haven’t dated a guy since we met. I didn’t even realize. It’s why…oh, god,” He groaned and chuckled. “The day you started you were distracting, Hen kept teasing me. I was so angry at Abby and maybe even myself and I took it out on you.” 

Eddie didn’t know what his face was doing. He knew he was surprised, maybe even shocked. He remembered his first few weeks at the 118 well. How excited he’d been to finally be a firefighter and how he’d known pretty quickly that it was a place where he fit. Everyone was welcoming, and then there was Buck. Acting out and pushing Eddie in some weird way that at first Eddie just took for some strange form of jealousy. No one could have ever known how close they would become, what friendship would form between them. 

“Eddie?” Buck asked.

“I think that I’m…I’ve been thinking for a while I don’t think I’m as straight as I thought I was.”

They were both dead silent. Buck was staring at him and Eddie stared back. Buck broke the silence when he put his bottle down with a clink. He grabbed Eddie’s and put it down too.

“Don’t tell me I’m reading this wrong,” Buck said. 

Eddie reached for him just as Buck reached for him too. A hand was at Eddie’s neck and Buck’s fingers were not the softness that he was used to from a woman’s hand. It made him shiver. And then he felt Buck’s breath on his skin. Eddie pushed forward, hands holding onto Buck’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Their lips met in what was barely a kiss, a soft brush of lips. It was electric. It was right. It was better than anything. 

“Eddie,” Buck whispered and that’s when the proper kissing began. 

It was like nothing and everything that Eddie had imagined. The passion, the want, and the awe that came with a kiss that had been a long time coming. Buck was on him, their chests pressed together. Eddie had never felt anything like it, from the rush of emotion in his chest to the very physical awareness that it was a man he was kissing. He loved it. The hard panes of Buck’s body, how big he was in a way that matched Eddie. 

Any daydream would never match this. To actually feel Buck against him, to breathe with him and to touch him and to kiss him. To know that Buck actually hungered for him too. 

“How long,” Buck whispered, “how long have you felt this way?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said. “A while.” 

“We have a lot of time to make up for,” Buck said. 

Eddie’s lips turned up into a smile. To think that he’d been telling himself for ages that this was an impossibility. Their hands were linked and Eddie couldn’t imagine ever wanting to let go. Buck kissed him again. Eddie didn’t want him to stop. 

[secretsandwriting]

The Little Moments [Dew]

The little moments in which the ghouls realize that the feeling in their chest when they see you isn't just instincts anymore, it's love and their drowning in it.

A sequel of sorts to mate. Can be read alone.

[Mountain] [Aether] [Rain] [Swiss] [Poly]

            Dew wasn’t sure what to think when the instincts died down and he realized fully what had happened. He had met his mate in the only way he genuinely didn’t want to. His parents had mated like this and it had gone bad and he didn’t want that.

            Yet here he was, heading to your office because he needed to check on you. He couldn’t even go 7 hours without seeing you, he hated it. He felt so dependant and needy and there was nothing he could do about it without making himself feel sick. 

            Ignoring it made it worse physically and giving in and checking you brought up all sorts of ugly thoughts. He had gone so long trying to avoid needing someone after seeing so many people in horrible situations because of it that it felt wrong even though it was natural. 

            This past week had been bad. He didn’t know why but he had just been on edge. It was obvious to everyone and so Copia and Sister Imperator had let him off the hook a little and you had kept putting aside work to go lay in the nest with him.

            When he made it to your office he stood outside the door for a few minutes, listening to the noises coming from your office, keyboard keys clicking, the scratching of a pen on paper, the rustling of the blanket you always had on your lap, and the random little noises you would make. He tried to convince himself that all that noise meant you were ok and that was all he needed but it didn’t work, so with a heavy heart he knocked on your door and waited.

            “Come in.” You sounded stressed and it was his fault. His instincts screamed at him to make it better, to put an end to whatever was stressing his mate out but it was him and the guilt was heavy. When he stepped in you glanced up and offered him a tired smile “You don’t have to knock, you know. You’re more than welcome to enter as you please.” He wasn’t sure how to handle that so he just nodded. He could see that you didn’t believe it. “You ok? I can push a few things to tomorrow if you need.”

            “No, you’re already behind because you’ve been doing that all week.” You stopped everything and stared at him. He didn’t know what to take of it. 

            “Sit down, I just need to send an email and I’ll be done for the day, argue all you want but it will get you nowhere.” He sighed and sat down in the seat across from your desk, leaning back he let his head drop behind him. “Alright, come on.” 

            He let you grab his hand and pull him closer enjoying the contact and let you guide him back to your room. He settled down in the nest while you went and changed, he fought down the purr fighting to come out when you walked out in one of his shirts.

            He didn’t fight when you pulled him into your chest, instead tucking himself into your neck breathing in your scent. Despite his best efforts he couldn’t help but purr when you started rubbing his back, relaxing him into you even more. 

            “Dew, I know you’re coming to terms with this but you need to understand I wouldn’t do things like this if it was important to me. You’re important to me and you need to understand that ok?” 

            Oh… He was Important to you?

_______________________

            Dew’s pride swelled when you giggled at the story he was telling you about. Thrilled with the knowledge he could make you laugh and smile. He felt your grip on his arm tighten a bit and the grin under his mask grew. 

            Never had he been as thankful as he was today that your office was a little ways away from your room. It gave him more time with you before he had to go to practice for the next few hours. Dew loved walking you places, especially the feeling of your hand holding onto his arm. 

            Nothing compared to the soft red that would dust your cheeks when he offered you his arm, or the way your eyes danced when he said something you found funny. He would become a court jester if he could see your eyes light up like that everyday. 

            You had him wrapped around your little finger and you didn’t even know it. He would do anything for you, there was no limit. Dew was helplessly in love with you and it was terrifying. 

________________________________________

            Dew had had a rough day. It wasn’t a bad day but it was rough so when you got back to the den from your office Dew had dragged you to the couch where he had already set out a brush and hair ties. He plopped down on the pillow on the floor and waited for you to settle in behind him. When you took a second too long he let out a small whine, both of you knew he was exaggerating. If he was really that needy you would be in the nest.

            The second he felt your hands in his hair, a soft rumbling purr spilled out of his chest. You could feel the vibrations in your legs where he was leaning back against you. He had no idea what you would do with his hair and he really didn’t care. Whatever you did he would love, even if it was something hideous.

            When Aether came into the den clearly deep in instinct holding a sister who hadn’t talked to anyone, Dew was worried you would stop to talk with her. Instead, you continued running your fingers through his hair while you talked. It provided good background noise and he got to hear your voice which was swiftly becoming one of his favorite sounds.

            You suddenly switched from the soft touches to more firm scratches on his scalp, he melted against you. His purring going up in volume as he relaxed into your touch. He heard you giggling and reigned in as much of his focus as he could. 

            “Dew loves his scalp being scratched. I found out on accident a few weeks ago when I was playing with his hair. I thought he had passed out from out due to how fast he had relaxed.” You kept talking about things that you had noticed about most of the ghouls but Dew couldn’t focus through the head scratching so he stopped trying. 

            You eventually stopped scratching and went back to just playing with his hair but he was far too relaxed to do much other than lean against your legs and purr. He should see if he could get you to do this more often.

            “Alright Dew,” you rubbed his shoulder. “How about we go to the nest until dinner?” That sounded nice, Dew thought he would like that. He could hear you giggling again and he swore he would do anything to hear you laugh like that all the time. “Dew, you have to get up so we can go to the nest.” With a lot of help from you, he stumbled into your room and was dropped into the nest where he curled up and made grabby hands at you. 

            “Let me change and I’ll be right there.” When you finally got into the nest with him, he curled up into you. Breathing your scent in he realized you were wearing one of his shirts and between that and the nest you smelled so much like him no one would be able to deny you were his mate. He really liked that thought.

_____________________________

            Dew loved snuggling with you, he had skin contact, your warmth, and you were there for a while. All those together were amazing and he loved it. You didn’t seem to mind either so that was also a win, he didn’t feel like he was forcing you to do anything you didn’t want to do. So when you snuggled a little closer one night, his purring increased as normal and he tried to get closer to you, resting his chin on the top of your head, tightening his arms that were around your stomach to pull you closer, and throwing one of his legs over yours.

            “Dew.” He was too tired to form words so he hummed and waited to hear whatever it was you needed, mentally preparing himself to talk and get out of the nest to get you whatever it was you might have wanted. “I love you.” Oh. He didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect that at all. 

            “I love you too.” He pulled you closer, his heart swelling with so much love and adoration for you he thought it might burst. He had loved you for months and he would keep loving you for the rest of his life.

            “Dew… May I have a kiss?” He wasn’t tired anymore. He was actually more awake than he had been in weeks. He pulled away and gently cradled your face, looking for any signs of hesitation. When he didn’t see any, one of his hands slid behind your head and pulled you closer until your lips met. 

            Dew had been imagining this for months. He had wanted it for months, but he didn’t know how long you had and he didn’t want to overstep anything so he pulled away from you lips despite everything in him screaming at him to kiss you breathless. But your hands in his hair pulled him back to you and he couldn’t help himself. Your lips were so soft and you tasted so good and you really didn’t seem to mind.

[bellaxgiornata]

Falling For the Devil [Part seventy: "The Thoughts About the Future"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a discussion with his mother, Matt invites you over for dinner at his place.

Or You both finally discuss the topic of moving in.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut (like...a lot of it later in the series), language, some violence

Word Count: 3.2k

a/n: This is a fluffy, sweet installment where you get a Matt POV in the beginning! You can find the entire list of installments for this series on tumblr here. I've almost transferred them all over from AO3 now!!

Matt let his mother lead the pair of them to a bench in front of the church, his cane tapping rhythmically along the pavement before himself. Both of them sat down beside each other, Matt drawing his cane between his legs and nervously twisting it as he did. 

It was an early Sunday morning at the end of March, the air still chilly around them where they sat quietly. The sidewalks were fairly empty though, which gave the pair of them a bit of privacy that Matt was grateful to have for this conversation. 

"So I know this isn't you coming for just another chat," Maggie eventually cut through the silence. "You're far too tense for that. What happened, Matthew?"

He let out a sigh, leaning further back into the bench. "Nothing happened," he told her, his hands still fidgeting with his cane. 

He could feel his mother's eyes on him, curiously studying him closely. That only caused him to move a hand, toying with the hem of his winter coat under the heavy weight of her scrutiny. He was nervous to open up to her like this; he certainly didn’t have conversations like this with her. 

"It's about her, isn't it?" Maggie asked after a moment. She said your name tentatively, her eyes still on Matt.

He smiled softly, nodding his head. "Yeah, it is," he admitted.

He could hear the way Maggie nodded beside him, turning along the bench to face him more fully. Her heart had sped up just a bit in her chest and he figured it was in anticipation at whatever he was going to say. 

"Well I don't have all day, Matthew," she urged. "Please tell me you haven't ruined things with her now that you finally got her back."

He shook his head, his focus falling onto his feet. "No, I haven't," he answered her awkwardly. "But that's…sort of why I'm here. I–I could use some advice," he admitted. "So that I don't ruin things."

Maggie hummed out a curious noise, settling more comfortably onto the bench beside him. Matt heard the way her mouth pulled into a smile, clearly pleased at the fact that he had come to her for help. 

"Well, what's going on that you would seek my advice for?" she asked.

Matt swallowed hard, his sightless gaze still focused along his feet. He stuffed his left hand into his coat pocket, the fingers of his right hand tapping anxiously along his cane. He wasn’t entirely sure where to begin, but he figured he might as well just get straight to the point.

"Her lease is up at the end of next month," he began slowly, aware of the eyebrow that rose onto Maggie's forehead. "And before…well, everything that had gone on between us that had led to us breaking up, she was supposed to be moving in with me next month. But we haven't talked about it yet. Though I want to talk about it with her–I am. Tonight. Over dinner. But I–" he paused, his eyes briefly closing, "–I want her to move in. I really, really want her to, but it feels like it's so soon after us getting back together. It–it seems like it may not be the best time. And I don't want her to move in just because her lease is up and she feels pressured, nor do I want to feel like that’s why she’s moving in. And I worry that such a big change might have a negative impact on the relationship after what just happened. I just–just don’t want to do the wrong thing here, or give her the wrong idea. I don’t want to mess this up."

"Maybe you should just speak plainly like this with her, Matthew," Maggie suggested. “She might be on the same page as you. Or she might be entirely ready to move in still. She seems like a level-headed woman and she quite obviously loves you very much. Just talk to her.”

Head turning towards his mother, his brows rose up onto his forehead. “That’s it? Just talk to her?” he asked in disbelief.

Maggie shrugged easily beside him. “Yes,” she answered. “Communication is important in a relationship. It seems like you both struggle with that, but it appears you’re also both working on it. From the things you’ve told me at least. So yes, Matthew,” she said, “just talk to her about it. Tell her your fears and how you feel, then listen to her. I’m sure you both can figure it out together. And I’m sure it’s been on her mind if her lease is up in a few weeks.”

A sigh fell out of Matt as his left hand slid out of his jacket pocket, his fingers combing nervously through his hair. How did she make it sound like such a simple thing when he’d all last week felt like talking to you was going to be so difficult?

“You love her,” Maggie pointed out, breaking the silence that had once again fallen. “Quite a bit.”

“Yes,” he admitted. “I do. And I’m terrified of ruining things. Normally when I’ve lost the people I care about,” he continued, his throat feeling like it was closing up at the emotions coursing through him, “I don’t get a second chance to fix things. To make it right. But she gave me that.”

“Then talk to her,” Maggie urged. “Speak from that beautiful heart that you have and I have faith that everything will work out as it should.”

Matt’s lips twitched upwards at the corner, slowly nodding his head as he focused back down towards his feet. His left hand ran across his mouth as he felt suddenly compelled to admit something else to his mother, something he’d yet to say aloud.

“I’ve been–been thinking about the future a lot more,” he said softly, his hand lowering to his lap. “It’s not something I usually had been doing ever since becoming Daredevil. I didn’t quite envision a future, there wasn’t anything I’d ever really wanted for myself,” he confessed, aware of his mother’s intense focus on him. “Not until her, that is. And now I can’t stop thinking about the future. All these things I’ve never thought about–I want them. With her.”

“Marriage?” Maggie asked, the smile obvious in her tone.

He nodded in response, a broad smile slowly making its way across his face. “Yes,” he told her. “I’ve heard Foggy and Karen tease me about it countless times at the office now. And I know you’ve occasionally made your comments when we’ve spoken but…” he trailed off, his face still alight with the love he had for you written across it. “Now I know that’s what I want. And I know right now is way too soon for that but–” he blew out a sharp breath, his stomach twisting into nervous knots just at the thought of someday asking you that question, “–she’s–she’s it for me. I want her. Forever.”

“Ahh, my son,” Maggie whispered, Matt catching the tremor in her voice before he felt her drawing him into a hug, “I’m so happy you finally found her then.”

Matt’s own arms wrapped around his mother, the two embracing for a long while on that bench in what was one of their rare moments of affection. He could tell Maggie was crying a bit as he held her, but he could also tell the tears weren’t from sadness.

“You both will be just fine,” Maggie whispered into his shoulder. 

And it was her reassurance that gave Matt the courage he needed to speak with you tonight about the topic of living together.

_______

“Okay, I have to ask, because somehow Katy and I got into a huge discussion about this at the office today,” you told Matt, pouring the red wine into the glasses on the kitchen counter, “and we both sort of agreed that you would be the one who could actually give us an answer.”

Matt paused from his place near the stove where he was plating the carbonara, his focus landing on you. “Is this about my butt?” he asked hesitantly.

“What? No,” you said with a laugh, shaking your head. “No, it’s not. I swear.”

He shot you a grin before he turned back to the plates before him and continued what he was doing. “Okay, so what’s the question?” he asked curiously.

“What spice–or seasoning–has the most flavor?” you questioned him. Setting the bottle of wine down, you turned to face him as your back rested against the countertop, one hand toying with that gold pendant necklace he’d gotten you for Christmas. “Like, per granule or…however I suppose you would quantify it. Because she claims salt is, but I say there’s a lot of other spices that are quite strong that I think are stronger than salt. Like saffron. Or…cinnamon.”

Matt chuckled lightly as he finished what he was doing before he removed the towel from his shoulder, turning to face you as he wiped his hands along it. “That is not what I thought you were going to ask at all,” he said.

Your head tilted to the side as you shot him a smile. “I told you it wasn’t about your butt,” you teased. “We do talk about things besides that, you know.”

“Like quantifying spices by the granule?” he teased back.

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Okay, well can you help me out here? Who’s right?” you asked him.

Matt shrugged. “Neither of you. Because you’re right in the sense that there are alot of strong seasonings out there, but honestly? I couldn’t tell you that there is just a single one that is the strongest. But–” he said, raising a finger and pointing it towards you, “–I will say saffron is quite strong.”

“Hmm,” you hummed out, “fair point, I suppose.”

“Anymore questions before dinner?” he asked, a dark brow quirking playfully up onto his forehead.

Biting your lip, you eyed Matt before you as he stood in the middle of the kitchen dressed in his black tee-shirt and a pair of those nice jeans he sometimes wore. The shirt was pulling taut at his chest from his broad muscles and as your eyes traveled downwards, you caught sight of how perfectly his jeans fit his thighs. Matt’s head slowly canted to the side as you surveyed him. 

“Maybe one…” you said softly, voice trailing off as heat rose to your cheeks.

Somehow that dark brow of his rose even higher. “Which is?”

Swallowing hard, you asked, “Is there anything planned for after dinner?”

You watched the gradual pull of Matt’s mouth as a smug smirk appeared on his face. He set the towel down on the counter beside him, his focus never leaving you as he made his way over. He stopped just before you, his hands landing on your hips and gently drawing you into him. Your breath came in shallower when he leaned in closer to you, his mouth just beside your ear.

“Why don’t we see how you’re feeling after dinner first, hmm?” he whispered.

Hands reaching up, they landed along Matt’s firm chest as you tried to control your heart rate. “Maybe dinner can wait?” you suggested.

Matt chuckled lightly beside your ear and a moment later you felt him kiss your temple. And then he was pulling away, making his way towards the two plates he’d just assembled. 

“Sweetheart, let’s just focus on dinner first,” he said. “There was something I wanted to talk to you about anyway.”

“Oh,” you muttered, heart rate suddenly spiking for a different reason. “Okay, yeah, sure.”

Turning, you grabbed both of the wine glasses in your hands, trying to take quiet, calming breaths. You were nervous now, not entirely sure what it was Matt could want to talk to you about. Had you done something wrong? Pushed him with sex? Was he wanting to take things slower? Or…worse? As you followed Matt out of the kitchen towards his table, you did your best to keep your hands from shaking. It didn’t help that you knew Matt was aware of your abrupt nervousness. 

You set down a glass of wine beside Matt’s plate before pulling the chair out beside his and sitting down. Drawing your own glass to your lips, you quickly took a drink and tried to calm your nerves. Your eyes remained focused on the plate he’d set before you, too nervous to look at him beside you.

“I’ve made you uncomfortable,” he pointed out. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“No, no,” you said quickly, your voice pitched higher than usual.

“Sweetheart,” Matt said gently, “I can hear your body right now.”

Eyes still on the plate, you set the glass of wine onto the table as you slowly nodded. “Okay, yeah, I guess I am feeling a little anxious,” you admitted. “It’s uh, usually not a good thing when someone in a relationship says they want to talk.”

Matt’s hand slid across the table, coming to rest lightly along your wrist. Exhaling a shaky breath, you glanced up at him beside you. He was shooting you a sweet smile, your eyes immediately dropping down to the dimple in his cheek.

“I’m not intending this to be a bad thing,” Matt assured you. “But we do need to talk about your lease expiring, don’t we?”

You blinked hard a few times as you registered what he’d said. He was right, your lease was up in just over a month. You’d wondered if Matt would ever bring it up because you’d already assumed you weren’t moving in just yet after what had happened.

“I suppose so, yes,” you answered slowly.

He nodded, his hand releasing your wrist as he turned a bit more towards you at the table. “I think maybe we should…wait a bit before you move in, if that–that’s still what you want to do after, well, everything,” he began timidly. “I just worry that you might feel rushed or pressured to take such a big step after what I did and I don’t–” his tongue darted out between his lips nervously, “–don’t want you to feel either of those things. Because I love you, sweetie. And I want you to know that’s what you want. I want it to feel right for you . But believe me, sweetheart,” he pressed, “I want you to. That’s never changed, I promise you. I still want you here with me, I still want you to use that key I gave you, but I just want to do this right. I want you to be comfortable with the decision.”

You sat there with your lips parted, entirely speechless. Staring at Matt, you found yourself overcome with the urge to lean over and kiss him–and maybe do more than that. Beside you, Matt sent you a nervous smile, his eyebrows rising up onto his forehead in your silence.

“Sweetheart? Some thoughts here?” he asked anxiously.

You shook your head quickly, laughing a little nervously. “Sorry,” you muttered, still trying to recover. “The uh, the first reaction I had to that was not an appropriate response.”

His brows quickly drew together, his nose lightly scrunching at your words. “And what would that have been?” he asked. 

“It uh,” you began, eyes darting down to the plate of untouched pasta before you as you cleared your throat, “involved me wanting to jump you for how considerate you are.”

“Jump me?” he asked, amusement in his tone.

Cheeks further flushing, you shrugged. “Yeah, that was just…very sweet. But I honestly appreciate all of that because, well, I’ll admit I’m a bit hesitant to move in so quickly after everything. I worry you might change your mind or decide to push me away again and that…scares me,” you admitted softly. 

“That’s understandable,” Matt replied. “And I want to prove to you that I’m not going anywhere. That you can trust me.”

“I already had spoken to my landlord,” you told him. “I’m lucky she likes me because we’d agreed on a month-by-month rent for a couple of months while I figured out what was going on with, well, us.”

Matt’s mouth quirked up at the corners as he sent you a warm smile. “And here I was thinking I needed to pull out the ‘I’m a really good lawyer and I can get you out of your lease’ card,” he joked.

“Ahh, I was one step ahead of you, Murdock,” you teased, your attention returning to him beside you. 

“That you were,” he replied with a grin.

“So is that why you made dinner tonight?” you asked him curiously. “Because you were wanting to talk to me about this?”

He nodded, though you caught a little glint of something in his eyes that had you curiously studying him. 

“Yes,” he admitted. “But also, I just really wanted an excuse to have you over and make you dinner. I know you’ve been having a stressful time with work lately.”

At the mention of work you slumped in your seat, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Yeah, I have. The fluff pieces for the past few months have been killing me. It’s like if I don’t actively chase stories, Ellison will just keep sending charity events my way to cover,” you vented, running a hand across your forehead. “I feel like my sleep is suffering for it lately.”

“So why don’t you relax and just enjoy dinner, sweetheart?” he suggested. “Don’t worry about work. And we can revisit the topic of you moving in in a few weeks. Let’s just enjoy our evening.”

A slow smile made its way across your lips before you nodded at Matt. “Okay. You’re right. Thanks for making dinner tonight, Matt,” you told him. “I appreciate it.”

He returned the smile, the warmth of it reaching his eyes. “Of course, sweetheart,” he said. “You’re always taking care of me and I like to try to return the favor.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you picked up your fork. “You and always trying to reciprocate,” you muttered.

“Speaking of,” Matt said, his tone low and sultry beside you, “I might actually be feeling up for dessert after this. In the bedroom. To uh, make up for that lunch the other day.”

Heat flamed across your cheeks as you twirled some pasta onto your fork. “I told you that wasn’t a quid pro quo thing, Matt,” you said softly.

You heard him shifting in his seat and you turned towards him. He was grinning mischievously at you and shooting you a look that had your heart skipping in your chest.

“And I told you it was a ‘my girlfriend is incredibly sexy’ thing,” he whispered back, that grin still on his mouth. “And I quite enjoy showing my incredibly sexy girlfriend how much I love her.”

Your thighs pressed together under the table as you squirmed in your seat. Matt’s deep, rumbling chuckle filled the air.

“So, you think you’re up for dessert after dinner?” he teased.

Raising your fork to your mouth, you muttered, “You know I can’t resist dessert with you, Matt.”

A pleased hum came from beside you as you saw Matt finally pick up his own fork. You tried to focus on eating despite now being all too aware of what the two of you would shortly be up to.

“That’s my girl,” Matt murmured before focusing on his dinner.

And like hell if those three words weren’t ringing through your mind as you ate.

[muzzleroars]

Just stumbled into the fallen Gabe/risen v1 au yesterday and I’m already obsessed with it. I’m so fascinated by this world that has outlasted its creator and purpose. It’s decaying despite its best efforts to preserve its current state and it’s in dire need of renewal but despite all the horrible things life continues. there’s still beautiful moments and things and the world keeps going the best it can. And it’s beautiful despite everything.

Also hehe fluffy Gabe go brrrrrr

Also also I never thought I’d ever be sympathizing for Lucifer but. Here I just want him to have… I don’t even know… freedom, reconciliation with the other angels, *something*, anything would be better than just leaving him at his current state.

THANK YOU,,,,,i really just enjoy the idea that ultrakill presents as a narrative, the whole concept of an automated world, run by constructs meant only to perform work for their now dead creators. the machines are obvious, running on deteriorating code and long defunct programming, but the angels are almost their mirrors - made only to serve, they now keep running infinitely without direction on the tracks they were placed. perhaps there was something like political ambition in the council, but still all they tried to do was reinstate god's power as their own, never dreaming of another structure. hell too continues on in its evil purpose, too far gone into itself, its cruelty, to ever imagine anything else even without that threat of god. and while i like the idea of this burning itself out, reduced to ash as all the mechanisms finally return to dust and gabriel, alone in defying it, burns out brilliantly with it....i also like exploring an alternative in this au. the alternative of....no more gods, no more direction. just a world created and the few left in it continue on after all the loss, the damage, the pain. there is no plan, not by god or humanity, instead just beings made only to serve living on without purpose, but in some hopeful way. that they are no longer bound, that the whole of reality is now wild and free and unpredictable and they all shape what it is around them. how v1 can think back so long ago to what it discussed with mirage, and believe it's carrying that through now - to live, just to live, without fear of what it means. because it means nothing...and that's a good thing.

i know i've said it a million times but i just can't keep myself from a happy ending, and i definitely feel the same about lucifer - he's kind of the final piece of the puzzle here, the first victim of god's hatred the last to be released, and so the world is freed of god's rule at last. he too, is the last bit of god's original fire and eventually, as things settle, he is sort of looked to by the archangels in some kind of quiet expectation. he is something of a relic, yet he is also the one that has lived all these eons without god - in his place in hell and only his, the light of god had fully filtered out, yet now it can only come from him. so in his freedom he walks in a godless world, meaning to see to the ones left behind, the damned, the fallen, man's own machines...and, in some part, the angels abandoned too. lucifer doesn't believe in leadership, holding every being's autonomy in the highest regard, yet he is still abounding with advice in world left so adrift. he refuses to direct, he will take no kingship of a world finally so free, instead just whispering his wisdom and singing for hell in the most rapturous, beautiful voice god had ever produced. to hear him now is to hear echoes of god's own voice, as close as any could ever come and live to recount it, but filled with what lucifer is - primal, agonized, yet overfilling still in all the love he was made in. he looks after all of his people from afar, never intruding on their lives and their works so they can direct themselves but he is always willing to be sought out if they are in need of counsel only he can provide.

[stagefoureddiediaz]

just wanna ask your opinion on what do you think the purpose is for these dates. Kristen was saying that it’s for Eddie to try to see what he wants and hopes he can find a spark. How are we doing this when buddie is right there and we all saw Eddie’s reaction how can they still he pushing anything but buddie after this episode. Would love to know your thoughts thank you so much I love your posts.

Hey Nonnie

Glad you enjoy my posts - thats always lovely to hear! ☺️

Sometimes the thing that is right there is too big and terrifying to fully contemplate. In this case Buddie. So you play it safe and choose a different path because then the risk of getting hurt ceases to be a consideration.

To me these dates read as a form of trauma response. Eddie has just been faced with losing Buck - not just the possibility of losing him, but actually losing him because as we stand right now Buck is dead. More dead than Eddie has been.

He went into the back of that ambulance technically dead - no pulse and not breathing, so dead. We know from the promo that they are still working on him when they get to the hospital - we see Eddie jump on the stretcher and continue the CPR that Hen and Chim would have been giving in the back of the ambulance so the journey to the hospital hasn't changed things. Eddie is the last one of the firefam to have physical contact with buck before they whisk him away (and obviously manage to get him back).

All of this is only ever going to lead to Eddie having some form of trauma response because he has to grapple with the very real possibility that he's lost/ is about to lose the person he is closest to in the world - the person he knows best, and the person he has elected to take care of Christopher if Eddie were the one to die - he person he has to all intents and purposes been raising his son with. And we haven't even seen him telling Christopher yet - which is only going to compound all of these feelings further.

Then add into that the fact that he's experienced something like this before when Shannon died and he's very possibly thinking this is worse than that - which in and of itself is going to pile on more pain. Because if he admits that this is worse than losing Shannon then he has to admit that he is in love with Buck.

This is all huge for Eddie. He might be newly therapized, but he's also lived his life up until fairly recently repressing the hell out of everything, so this is the first time his therapized self is being tested. He also needs to be there and be strong for Christopher and so reverting to type and battening down the hatches of his feelings and emotions rather than actually sitting in them and sorting them is safer and easier - at least until you're down the road a bit and you know what the terrain looks like. This is in many ways a smart thing for Eddie to do - as long as he does the second part - actually sit with them and figure them out.

Only when that happens and you are in calmer waters and you start that looking at everything in more detail and you're left with the knowledge that you're in love with your best friend - something you've known for a while but have been keeping locked down until you nearly lost them and that thought of loosing them is just too much - its too dangerous - because if you get hurt you don't think you'll survive - the stakes are too high. So instead what you do is go out into the world and date around a bit - where the risks are lower to see if you can find some semblance of a spark elsewhere. Because we have to remember this is soulmate level love that Eddie has with Buck and when you know what its like to lose that - because you very nearly did, its terrifying to know what you stand to lose if you took the next step in that direction.

So yes going out on a bunch of dates is very much a trauma response imo - an entirely understandable one, and once the dust has settled a bit further Eddie will be in a place to face everything and take the step he's been affraid to.

Buck of course at the same time is going to be going through his own stuff in the fall out from his dying and coming back. Eddie will be there to support him and help him - that aspect of them won't go away, in fact its only likely to get stronger. because part of the reason for all of this being difficult for Eddie is that he now truly understands Bucks side of things post shooting and Buck will understand Eddies side of things. they will be ready to talk about what they've been carefully skirting around since the shooting - what it was like for the other. Giving them shared trauma in this way only serves to strengthen their bond rather than break it - because there is no one else in the world who can ever understand in the way they can!

Sorry this got a bit long and rambly but I'm a bit up in my feelings about what the show is doing because its so good and being done with such care!!! We should also remember (and I cannot emphasise it enough - the show isn't going to give anything away in interviews like the ones KR has done about Buddie - theyre telling a story the likes of which has never been seen before and subterfuge is the name of the game - we'll only get confirmation when it happens, not before!) Thanks for the ask and I hope it gives you what you're looking for!💜💜💜

[fairy-verse]

What's the fairies' opinion about hybrids? Are they ok with them or do they see them as weird and hard to accept in their community?

The season fairies try their best at accepting hybrids within their communities, but sometimes they’re unable to properly hide their feelings for them. It’s not that they inherently dislike them, it’s just that hybrids are sometimes a little odd, with strange behaviours and moods, that sort of thing. Some hybrids are good at playing pretend and ignoring the part of themselves that is the weakest, but for some, this becomes difficult to impossible, and they struggle with finding a place to fit in. Often, they’re left on the outside. Some become guards near the borders and keep to themselves, others leave the land of the Firstborn altogether and find themselves a new home on the island. What happens to these hybrids is rarely documented.

There are two hybrids I may mention that have similar, yet different life experiences. One has equal parts of two seasons within himself, whilst the other has more from one side than the other. So, let’s take a look at both Cross and Killer.

Cross struggles. Summer is too hot; winter is too cold. His mother was a summer fairy who gave birth to him within Error’s Mountain halls, but even so he never fully adapted to living there. The mountain felt claustrophobic, and when he tried to go back with her to Dream’s valley, then he found himself somewhat uncomfortable with the heat and humidity, not to mention that the moss-clad forest felt confusing and dizzying. His parents didn’t stay together either, so he’s never felt the comfort of living in a nest where two loving caregivers coddle him until he’s old enough to fly. His mother tried her best to give him what he needed as a young faerling, but when she tragically passed from an unexpected troll attack to their nest, then he was instead forced to go back and live with his father, who in contrast to his mother wasn’t quite as nurturing.

He is an example of a hybrid who doesn’t quite fit in anywhere, and these hybrids tend to not live for long, as loneliness and grief tend to make their Souls weak. It is only because he found a home in Dream that he began to flourish and grow stronger.

Unknown to Cross, and everyone else for that matter, is that his father is not a pure-born winter fairy but is instead also a hybrid of his own. Cross’s soul is much stronger than he believes, thanks to the magic that intertwined perfectly with what he got from his mother and father.

Killer thrives. He is a hybrid who has more from one side than the other, and therefore he’s able to pretend and fool other fairies into believing that he’s just a quirky spring fairy with a knack for grace and elegance, when he wishes it. His mother was an autumn fairy who chose to make a nest with his father at the border separating Nightmare and Ink’s domains. There they raised Killer in loving comforts, and although his mother tried to teach him the slow ways of the autumn fairies, he was much more inclined to follow his father to cause mischief. He loves to play and tease, and there is nothing more he enjoys than pestering the Big Folk and drinking their blood; laughing as he sees their paranoia settle as his painful bite causes their Souls to become more open to the magic of the world around them, though they believe they’re hallucinating and growing mad.

Killer was still young when his mother was tragically caught by the Big Folk, and while he acts like it never bothered him that much, it is clear in the way he began to fully distance himself from his autumn side that it secretly pained him. He became so used to acting like a pure spring fairy that he himself began to think that he was one. By the time he caught sight of Nightmare, he’d nearly forgotten everything his mother had taught him, but to properly court the Firstborn of autumn, he knew he had to incorporate that long-neglected side of himself, and well… It felt good to be graceful and slow in the way he danced, and it was with this rediscovering of himself that he was able to catch Nightmare’s eye.

[startanewdream]

For @hinnyfest, prompt #1: First I love you

***

After the war, after everything has sort of settled and the sense of normalcy returns – albeit a sense that’s broken, that feels lost sometimes and that will never fully recover –, they start to find their war together too.

It’s slow and Harry prefers it that way because for once he doesn’t feel like he needs to rush anything. They go out on a date, a truly one, and they have a good time – later he kisses her goodnight at the porch of the Burrow and it feels normal. He feels normal and that’s one of the things he most likes when he is with Ginny.

There are a lot of things he also likes with her, and they take time discovering each one, except that Harry feels more and more that "like" is not enough to describe it. He fancies her. He has a crush on her. He wants her; wants to spend all the with her. All of these are true, and all of these are not enough.

The word he is looking for slips through her lips on a Saturday afternoon, when they are having a picnic in a London park, two anonymous people just enjoying a summer day like hundreds of people around them. They are talking and bantering and kissing and Harry’s heart feels like bursting out of his chest because this all looks too amazing sometimes. Two months ago he was ready to die and now – now he gets to live.

But maybe he has still a knack for trouble because when he takes the last strawberry from the basket, fully knowing it’s Ginny’s favourite, her eyes narrow in slits, almost murderous (the effect is ruined by the fact she is grinning – Ginny grabbed the last piece of treacle tart after all).

"You can taste it in my mouth," he offers, teasing and more confident than he's felt since those first glorious days of their relationship back at Hogwarts.

"You are lucky I love you so much," she quips, amusement all over her face, and she moves to kiss him. But Harry remains frozen and unsure, and after a second Ginny breaks apart, biting her lip. "Harry?" Her voice is soft. "I am sorry if it was too soon, it just —"

"No, no", he rushes to comfort her, the fear of hurting her even stronger than the rush of emotions in a whirlwind inside him. "I—"

"You don’t need to say back," she interrupts him quickly. "Really, it’s no—"

"Yeah, it is," he disagrees, refusing to hear her claim it as a no big deal. "It matters for me, I…"

He knows what he wants to say back — it’s finally obvious to him how he feels for her —and yet the words get stuck in his mouth. He has never said them before.

"I…"

"I know," she tells him softly, moving again closer to him, and Harry kisses her back as if there is no tomorrow — except there is, and that’s the best part. He breaks apart, letting himself get lost in the warmth of her brown eyes, and promises he will learn to say it back.

[henkinsjenkins]

Grounded.

Sebastian x MC /

MC x Ominis

|MC is a male Slytherin. Vaguely has oc’s settings and characteristics.|

The new year had begun welcoming in new and old students alike. Tables of the Great Hall filled with each passing moment. The newer students sat excitedly as they waited to be sorted in their house, while previous students filled the assigned tables.

“Ominis!”

The blind student turned at the sound of the voice that had broken him from his thoughts.

“Hello Sebastian. Enjoy your summer?”

The fellow Slythern took his seat next to his friend, shifting on the hard wooden bench to get comfortable.

“In my dead uncle’s cot? Sure, as enjoyable as that gets.” He said sarcastically but continued on more of a light hearted tone.

“I did a lot of thinking and reflecting. I want to properly apologize to you guys.”

Ominis hummed in response knowing that he still had some feelings regarding the other’s actions and choices. Ominis couldn’t fully bring himself to forgive Sebastian for his behavior, especially after everything he went through as a child, and after the constant pleading he did.

“I want you to know that even though you had broken my trust, betrayed my word, and manipulated me numerous times…I still care about you, Sebastian.”

Despite the hardship of last year Ominis still stuck with Sebastian, more or less to keep track of him. He still saw him as a brother, a very troubling one but he was family. He had already lost Anne, he couldn’t lose Sebastian too.

“That’s why I’m promising, right now, never to do anything like that again. Not to you or our friend.”

That had reminded Sebastian, he had yet to see his friend from fifth year walk in. The rest of the flowing students had settled down and the doors had closed as Headmaster Black began his speech.

“Don’t tell me he’s going to be late this year too?” Sebastian commented looking around for their fellow Slytherin.

“It seems to be his running gig...”

Ominis commented hearing as the Sorting hat had begun sorting the new students into their houses.

Once introductions were over and everyone was sorted, Headmaster Black had dismissed everyone. The two Slytherin still confused by the absence of their friend.

Was it possible their friend was in danger again, the mere thought causing them to stand. Sebastian took notice and stood alongside Ominis as they followed the crowd of students outside the Great Hall.

“This is seriously weird.” Sebastian commented. Ominis immediately picked up the worry in his friend’s voice.

“Perhaps there’s a letter from him back in our rooms.” He said letting his wand navigated him through the crowd of bustling students.

However when they arrived at their shared dormitory, they found no letter. (MC)’s area was still bare with no signs of being touched and the other students hadn't seen him around the common room at all. It sent the two into a panic as they headed for the Headmaster’s office for answers.

“Pardon but may I have a moment of your time?” Ominis spoke once the two caught wind of the Headmaster as he made his way through the halls before stopping and turning around.

“If you must speak to me, do make it quick.” He snapped looking as impatient as ever but Ominis obliged quickly getting to the point.

“Our friend from fifth year hasn’t arrived, we were wondering if you knew the reason for his absence.”

“Your Friend?” He quickly cleared his throat as Sebastian shot him a disappointing glare.

“Oh! Yes, the Hero of Hogwarts. Unfortunately your friend will not be returning for the school year. Regarding his safety his parents had decided to continue his education with the Ministry.”

The look on their faces when they heard their friend would no longer be at Hogwarts was Black's que to leave.

“Well gentlemen, best be off to your school studies then.”

Turning heel the Headmaster continued on with his busy schedule for today. Leaving the two standing there heart broken.

“Why didn’t he say anything?”

There was anger in Sebastian’s voice but Ominis knew he was just as hurt as he was by the news.

“If it’s for his safety, I have no doubt that last year’s events would raise some concern about the aftermath. However it seems the decision was his parents.”

“A letter would have been nice!”

As both boys made their way back to their common room they talked about what this could mean and if they could somehow get their friend back.

I do plan on making this a series. However updates will be slow.

Part two here

[bakubaji]

threadfic miya twins character study / sakuatsu 6.7k

miya twins angst, hurt/comfort, loneliness, learning about self worth, skts but mostly a miya twin focus

There’s this thing in most SakuAtsu fics that always gets me, but I never feel like it’s gone into enough, and it’s when there’s a fight/miscommunication between the Miya twins. There’s always some angst and then they get into a fist fight and all is well. But 9 times out of 10 what happens is, it seems like Tsumu is being a whiny brat over something small, he brings it up, they fight, and they settle it like ‘Yep, Tsumu’s just dramatic’, and it always feels like the whole thing boils down to Tsumu being unable to move on, Samu being more mature, and Tsumu ends up kind of being comedic relief for getting so worked up. (Also, half the time, it’s Tsumu being worked up because Samu tells everyone something or whatever, and in the end Suna and Samu are like ‘You’re being a brat lol’ and that’s that). And, without fail, it drives me CRAZY bc it always feels like it never addresses the root issue, so it never feels resolved to me.

PSA: I’m not saying this as like, "These are real people- how dare you ignore their feelings!!" but more like, "You're setting up this character with really valid emotions and reactions, and then failing to carry them through and it falls flat. So, here are my thoughts:

The reason Tsumu gets so worked up when it comes to Samu is because Samu is his Most Important Person. Nothing & no one has ever been, or will ever be, more important to him, and he is fully shameless about it.

It's so obvious, even when they bicker. But Samu, from an outside perspective, but also from people who know him, sees Tsumu as his twin, his brother, but not necessarily his Most Important Person or Thing.

Maybe he was when they were younger, but as they grew up, he sort of moved on. Found other things more important and whatever. This is usually where the issue happens: many fics will see the moving on as part of maturing and "resolve" the issue by implying that the solution is that Atsumu needs to move on, and then Omi comes in, etc., etc., everything's good! But that never seems right to me.

I need Samu to be confronted about the fact that Tsumu has always loved him before anything, has always put him first, and yet he, time after time, doesn't do the same.

He tells Suna about quitting volleyball first, he sees Suna more than he sees Tsumu, he doesn't tell him they're dating. And he and Suna- who's known them for a long, long time, who knows how Tsumu is- will regularly poke fun at Tsumu for being dramatic, whiny, overly sensitive, and it hurts Tsumu to know that the two people he's known the longest- including the one person who's supposed to be his other half, who's supposed to always be by his side and always have his back- never try to understand him.

They never seem to care about him as much as they care about each other. And worse than that, they make him feel like something's wrong with him for caring about them the way he does. Like he's too much, too immature, too clingy, and they tease and mock and belittle, knowing exactly where Atsumu's most vulnerable. Crossing all the lines of ‘too far’ and then, instead of apologizing, they laugh it off and tell him to grow up.

And everyone seems to agree.

Just once, JUST ONCE, I want Atsumu to have enough.

I want him to realize that he doesn't deserve that. That nothing's wrong with the way he loves, and the way he needs love.

I want an Atsumu who realizes he's giving himself up over and over just to be ridiculed.

And sure, Samu checks on him when he's sick, and Suna invites him to drink after they play against each other, and eventually they even ask Tsumu to officiate their wedding so they don't have to fight over him, but that's not what Tsumu wanted.

Tsumu wanted to be Samu's best man, the way they'd always planned since they first found out what marriage was. And if, or when, Tsumu ever got married, he'd ask Samu to be his. But it was supposed to go both ways. And Samu was supposed to call when good things happened too (like Suna asking him on a first date, or the loan for the restaurant being approved), or even bad things, not just out of a sense of obligation to make sure Tsumu was okay. And Suna was supposed to invite Tsumu out whenever he was nearby, the way Tsumu did, not just drop a time and place as their teams lined up to shake hands.

Tsumu is always treated like the Least Important Person, and eventually he has to recognize it's not good, it's not fair or healthy or right, and he owes it to himself to stop, because losing his Most Important Person is less painful than what he has right now (at least he hopes). So he starts treating Samu and Suna the way they treat him.

He answers calls (most of the time) but rarely calls first.

He doesn't send pictures of things that remind him of them anymore.

He doesn't send "I miss you" or "Love you" anymore, because they always laugh and brush him off.

He visits the restaurant if the team is in town, but he stops taking the train over on weekends just to say hi

When something big happens, he goes home alone and puts his head between his knees and breathes, because he ‘won't call Samu.’ He won't. Because Samu wouldn't. And it's hard. God, it's so, so hard, and it hurts more than he'd thought. They'd say he was being dramatic, they'd tell him to grow up, get over it. But the way neither of them even seem to notice makes him realize it was the right thing to do.

It's also hard because now Tsumu struggles a bit (a lot) to let people in. Maybe it's not that deep, maybe it's not that big a deal, but if his twin thought he was too much, didn't even care all that much about him in the end, despite the fact that Tsumu would do anything in the world for him, then who the hell would do otherwise? His twin brother and their oldest friend didn't stick around, so Tsumu doesn't really believe anyone actually will.

He becomes closer with his teammates, slowly: Bokuto loves a lot like him- giving all of himself to everyone he cares for- and even with a boyfriend, he still makes so much time for Atsumu, still meets him where he's at, treats him how Tsumu always wanted someone to. Shoyo and Omi become good friends too, through trial and error. Shouyou is easier: Tsumu knows not to expect the same kind of attentiveness from him- he's kind of flighty and distractible, which isn't bad at all. He's so genuine and good regardless.

Omi takes longer, given their sort of warring personalities, but in the end he sees Atsumu as he is, and never asks him to change. He never asks more (or less) from him. Never makes Tsumu feel like he's wrong. In his own ways, Omi pours himself into their friendship wholeheartedly, and the same way he recognizes Atsumu's ways of showing it, Tsumu sees that Omi is doing the same. For once, Tsumu doesn't feel like his care is unwanted.

But even so, new friends (or maybe more?) can only do so much. It's harder and harder to admit it now that he's proven to himself that he wasn't the one in the wrong, but he misses his brother, misses his oldest friend, and he knows they don't miss him. And it's embarrassing, it's shameful, to know that, despite everything, he would still do anything for them because that's just who he is, who he's always been. No matter what, Samu will still be his Most Important Person, and Tsumu can't do anything about it.

They still see each other, sometimes, and Tsumu breathes in each moment like he's been starved for air. He tries not to let it show, just how much he misses them, how happy he is to see them, even if it's not the same. Hell, they're probably happier to see him now than ever before, mentioning how much he's grown up lately, how much better he's doing now that he's not so dependent on them, on Samu. And it hurts infinitely more to hear, to know that they prefer this censored version of him to the real one. The one who was unashamed of how much he loved them, how much they meant to him.

It takes a while for him to heal from that, actually. His new friends help. Omi helps a lot. Bo helps the most- he's the first person Tsumu ever tells about it all, and he's the only one who he trusts to understand. Even then, there's no one who can really share the feeling. Even Bokuto can only speak about friends, his two sisters much older. It's different from a twin, and he knows that. So, to an extent, he has to go it alone.

That's the worst part. Tsumu always believed that being born a twin meant you were never supposed to be alone, not truly. How could you be born part of a perfect matching set only to end up on your own? It felt wrong, it always had. That was why Samu had always been the world to him. For Tsumu, being Samu's brother was as intrinsically part of him as his hands, his eyes, his legs; there was no way to remove that part of himself, not without far too much pain. So he remained Samu's brother, even if it was only in his heart, buried deep so it couldn't be used against him. It was a secret treasure just for him, one that hurt to hold onto, but would hurt much more to lose.

Everything kind of goes to shit eventually, when after a year or two, Omi proposes after they win the Olympics. It was on international television. It made headlines. The sports channel and gossip rags were talking about the same thing for once.

And then Osamu called.

Tsumu almost didn't answer.

He was so happy and he wanted to share it with Samu, but he wanted to hoard it to himself more. But Omi left him alone with a look that said 'answer it,' so he did.

It was silent on the line when he answered, and Tsumu didn't say anything to break it. It was Samu who spoke first.

"Yer gettin' married?"

It took a moment to respond. Samu's voice took him by surprise, how quiet and shaky it was. "Yeah," he said. "Eventually."

"I didn't know the two of ya were together."

Tsumu could've laughed at the irony of it if it didn't sting to hear.

"Never came up, I guess."

"I- Yeah. Guess not. Not much does, these days, it seems."

Atsumu pressed a hand to his mouth and stared at the door Omi had left through, pushing down the urge to scream or maybe cry. It had been two or so years since he'd left, and Samu had never even noticed the difference until now.

"What happened?" Samu asked, voice shaking that way it did when he refused to cry. "What happened to us, Tsumu?"

Atsumu took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. "Samu, if you don't know, it's not gonna matter."

He wasn't trying to be obtuse. He didn't want to guilt Samu into anything. But if Samu couldn't tell that he'd caused this, that he'd always been the one to push that distance further and further... If he couldn't see that much, Tsumu didn't know if he could fix it.

He couldn't do it on his own. He couldn't put himself through that again, not after he'd put this much work in to help himself.

"I don't- I don't know. I don't know why ya wouldn't tell me. I thought we told each other things like this."

Tsumu's laugh was harsh. "Ya can't be serious."

"What’d'ya mean? I'm dead serious, Tsumu."

"After Suna? Ya think ya have any right to say that?"

"What-I- that was different, Tsum. Ya found out eventually, and not because I got proposed to on live television."

"'Cause it was so much better walkin' in on the two of ya fuckin' after ya told me ya couldn't come visit 'cause ya got caught up at work!"

"And I told ya I was sorry! I didn't think ya were gonna come over, ya lived two cities away!"

"And I wanted to see ya!" Atsumu yelled. "I wanted to see my brother, was that so bad?!"

Of course that wouldn't have occurred to Samu, Tsumu thought, because he wouldn't have done the same. Samu only came when Tsumu invited him. At the very least he'd call ahead. He never surprised him. He didn't go out of his way because he wanted to see Tsumu.

"It doesn't matter," Atsumu said, sucking in a deep breath. "I already told ya. Look I- I don't wanna do this. At all. Right now. I just- I just got engaged, Samu. I just won the Olympics. You've had forever to do this, why'd'ya hafta do it now?"

Samu was silent for a long time. "Is it so bad? Did I do somethin' so bad to ya?"

"Samu, please, not- not now."

"Ya can't even tell me? I'm your brother, Tsumu, we can't just-"

"Brothers?” Atsumu laughed. It came out like a sob. "Samu, when was the last time you acted like a brother to me?"

"I- what?"

"Samu, when- God, I don't wanna do this right now. Fuck." He wished he could go back just five minutes and not answer the call. Hold onto Omi instead.

"Do ya even know when I realized ya were tearin' me apart?" Atsumu asked, throwing an arm over his face. "It's been two years now, and ya just now noticed. You and Rin just- the two of ya- ya don't even know how much ya hurt me. Ya didn't even care."

"H-hurt ya? Tsumu, what're ya talkin' about? What's Rin gotta do with this?"

"Look, I don't- I just- do we hafta do this now?"

"Yes we hafta do it now!" Samu spit. "What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"God, I just- fuck, Samu, I couldn't stand it anymore! You know I love ya more than anythin'. Do you know how it was for me? Always 'Tsumu's too much', 'Tsumu's being dramatic', 'Tsumu's too clingy'. I just cared about ya! But it was too much for ya. Both of ya. I thought, for so long, that somethin' was wrong with me. I thought 'even my own brother thinks it's too much, the way I love people'. Do you know how long it took for me to realize it was okay? That there wasn't somethin' wrong with me?

"Everythin' I did, everythin' I am was too much for ya. Too much for Rin. And ya couldn't even just- just pretend, or even tolerate it. Ya made- ya made me feel so bad. All the time. And ya never once- never made me feel like ya gave a shit about me.

"Yer my twin, that- to me, that means everythin', Samu. It means everythin' to me. You mean everythin' to me, and it- it hurts so bad, knowin' ya don't care, knowing I'm not the person you wanna tell things to, the person that ya rely on. God, to you I'm just- what? A burden? Just the person ya ended up stuck with? Did ya ever want me around or was I just there?

"‘Cause I always wanted you around. I wanna tell ya everythin', good or bad, big or small. Yer the one I've always- always relied on. I always told ya everythin'. And ya know what you did? Ya went and told Rin. Anythin' I told ya, secret or not, ya went and told Rin. And when you had somethin' to share, who did ya go to? Rin. Always Rin, never me. "Ya never cared that some things I only wanted you to know. Ya never cared that I wanted to be there to cheer you on or support ya. Ya never- I was never important to ya, not like you are to me. And that's- there's nothin' I can do about that, but I couldn't keep puttin' myself through it. So ya don't get to call after all this time and say I owe ya anythin' because we're 'brothers’. Ya lost that right, Samu."

Tsumu broke off, only vaguely realizing he'd ended up yelling. He was breathing heavy, eyes stinging, throat tight. This wasn't how he'd wanted his night to go. He should've been spending time with Omi, thinking about a ring since Omi had proposed with a medal.

He could hear Samu breathing over the phone, ragged and uneven, hitching with nearly silent sobs.

"D'ya see, Samu?" Atsumu whispered. "It's not- I can't fix this. I spent- I spent so long chasin' you. So long pretendin'. I won't do that to myself again, Samu. It hurt too much."

"I didn't-" Samu sounded broken. "I didn't know. I didn't mean to-"

"I know," Tsumu interrupted. "I know ya didn't, but that doesn't mean anythin' to me. I never wanted ya to treat me one way out of pity or guilt. I wanted it because yer my brother, and if ya- if ya cared about me like how I care about you, it wouldn't... It doesn't matter now.

"Look, Samu... I'm not mad at ya. Not anymore. And I still love ya more than anythin', that'll never change. But I got engaged tonight. I won the Olympics. And I don't wanna hurt right now. I just wanna be happy for a night, Samu. Can I have that much from ya, at least?"

Tsumu waited until Samu choked out a fragile ‘yes’, and then hung up and tossed his phone away. That was not what he'd envisioned for tonight. He felt simultaneously drained and like he might burst at the seams.

It took a while for Omi to come back, but when he did, he found Tsumu with his head between his knees, breathless and shaking as he cried.

Omi didn't ask him about anything, he just wrapped him up in his arms and told him he'd done well, and he was proud of him. It didn't ease the pain, but it helped some.

It helped because, even after everything, it was hard for Tsumu to not feel like he'd overreacted.

In his mind, Samu was talking with Suna right now, complaining about how Tsumu always did this, blew up for no reason just to make a fuss. Even after all this time, Atsumu wondered if he was the one in the wrong, the one making a big deal out of nothing, causing Samu problems again.

But Omi was there, holding him, reminding him with his words and his presence that it wasn't Atsumu's fault. That he hadn't done anything wrong by setting his boundaries, by recognizing what his love was worth.

They didn't celebrate that night, or even the next, but eventually they did, and Atsumu was happy even if he'd always pictured that his brother would be there for a moment like this.

Omi asked at one point when Tsumu would want the wedding, but Atsumu just fell silent and Omi understood. Nothing was going to happen yet. Tsumu has given up enough, but he couldn't... he couldn't give that up too. He may not have been Samu's best man, but he still wanted Samu to be his. and that couldn't happen right now, so he couldn't even begin to think about the rest of it. But Omi understood, and he was patient.

Time passed, as it was wont to do, and Tsumu settled again— or at least he would have, but Samu and Suna were acting... weird. It wasn't really anything obvious at first, especially since neither of them ever brought up the phone call, but...

First was Tsumu's mom, who mentioned on their weekly call that Samu had been bothering her like crazy, asking about their high school days and what she remembered about the three of them. Then Kita texted saying ‘Do you know if Osamu is in therapy? it may be a good idea.’ Which in Kita speak meant ‘Your brother's acting weird as fuck, tell him to leave me alone and bother someone who's paid to put up with him.’ Then Samu texted, saying he was going to be in town for a weekend. He'd be really busy, so he was getting a hotel room so he wouldn't disturb Tsumu with his comings and goings, but he had a potential opportunity to open up a new branch and he had to check things out.

“Could we meet?” he'd asked, and Tsumu stared at his phone for a long time, because they'd never been the kind of people who had to ask about things like that. “‘course,” he'd texted, biting his lip. “Lmk when you have time, we'll go out to eat.”

Then Suna called out of the blue after a game that Tsumu had watched on the TV in the living room. "Rin?" Tsumu answered, turning the volume down even though he liked watching post-game commentary. "Ya okay?"

"Did ya watch the game?" Suna asked, no greeting or anything.

"Yeah, just had it on. T'was good."

"It was ratshit," Suna grunted. "They got through half my blocks no problem, and shut me out more than not." Atsumu blinked at the TV screen, playing highlight reels of the game. The game Suna had just called him out of the blue to talk about.

"Wasn't yer best," he admitted slowly, Suna could be a bit prickly about his abilities when he didn't do well. "But ya knew goin' in yer usual tricks wouldn't be the most effective with them. An ace like that is hard to stop, and he happens to be built like a tank. Ya had a lot of good receives in the back row, kept yer team goin'."

Suna hummed, and Tsumu could hear the weary disappointment. "I guess. I just wanted to do better."

"I know ya did." Because Suna always did. Tsumu wondered if maybe Suna had meant to call Samu instead? "But what's done is done, no use workin' yerself up about it. Practice harder, so they can't shut ya out next time."

"I know. I know, yer right, I'm just..."

"I know. You should have Samu make ya some hirata buns. Ya always liked those when we lost."

Suna was quiet for a moment. "Yers are better than yer brother's," he finally grumbled, and Tsumu's cheeks flushed at the unexpected praise. "But yeah. Thanks, Tsum. I gotta go, coach wants to debrief. Thanks for pickin' up.”

Atsumu stared at his phone for a long time after the call ended.

Weird things like that kept happening. Tsumu came home to Omi unboxing a package of individually wrapped onigiri from Samu's shop that he'd found waiting by the door when he got home. Suna kept sending him pictures of the stray cat that kept showing up behind their apartment. Kita texted again asking ‘How have you been, Atsumu?', which made Atsumu's lip start wobbling and Omi called him a crybaby. Even Bo asked him at practice if something had happened with Samu, because apparently Akaashi had gone in to eat and kept having to text Bo questions because Samu kept hounding him about Tsumu; how he was? Was he doing well in practice? Did he have good friends on the team? Was Omi good to him?

Eventually, Samu was in town, and they met up to eat at a Chinese hot pot place between Tsumu's home and Samu's hotel. It was their first time seeing each other in person since before the phone call, and Tsumu was nervous. He'd thought about inviting Omi with him, but Omi had straight up refused. "Call me if you need me," he'd said, with a voice that said he'd be there in a heartbeat, but he told Atsumu this was something he probably had to do on his own. And Samu hadn't brought Suna, which was rare even when Suna was in season, so Tsumu agreed to return the courtesy. Just them, then. Tsumu and Samu, Samu and Tsumu. What a ridiculous thing to be scared of.

In the end, though it was just the two of them, they got enough food for four. it was almost distracting enough to drown out the inescapable awkwardness between them. Almost.

Atsumu didn't want to bring anything up, not when they were having an almost normal meal again, so he let Samu guide the conversation.

Samu told him about the property he'd gone to visit here in the city, a small restaurant that had been a ramen shop before it shut down. Tsumu looked at the pictures he was shown and agreed that it looked like a good place, though Samu would need a refrigerated display. Samu told him that their ma was trying to grow radishes in her window boxes, and Tsumu laughed and pretended that was the first he'd heard of it. Samu explained, staring fixedly at the vegetables floating in the spicy broth, that Suna thought it was best he didn't come this time, so it didn't feel like the two of them were ganging up on Tsumu again when they apologized, and Tsumu-

Tsumu blinked.

"If we came to ya, both of us at once, wouldn't it still feel like it was us versus you?" Samu asked quietly. "I didn't- I didn't tell him everythin' you told me, I swear, but he's always been smarter than us, he put it together since... with everythin' you said the last time, I didn't wanna seem like we were just apologizin' to get over it, ya know? And we thought, maybe, showin' up together might not be the best way to show we heard ya and everythin'."

Tsumu blinked at Samu, who blinked at the sweet potato that bobbed to the surface of the boiling soup.

"Look, Tsumu," Samu said, "I don't know when... when I started treatin' ya so bad. I don't know, and I don't know how I never noticed, or how I never saw when you… when you had enough of it. I never wanted to push ya like that. I never wanted to hurt ya. I know it's too late to say stuff like that, and I know it doesn't really matter, not when it can't change anythin', but it's true. And I'm sorry we made it impossible for you to talk to us. I know you tried to, and we just- just laughed it off. That was... fuck. I'm sorry, Tsumu. I really, really am. And ya don't hafta forgive me for it, not now, or- or ever, if ya don't want to. What we did, what I did- it wasn't fair to you. And more than that, I never should've... yer my brother, Tsumu. I should've been there for ya, I should've been the one you could come to when ya felt like shit or wanted to cry about somethin'. I should've been the person you could tell about yer first day in the big leagues, or yer new friends, or, or gettin' engaged. And- and ya still told me about so much of it, even when I-" he broke off with a frustrated sound. Samu had never been good at talking.

"I betrayed yer trust in me," Samu forced out. "And did it over and over, even when ya kept givin' me more chances." Samu took a deep breath, and he finally looked up to meet Tsumu's eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't keep yer secrets. I'm sorry I didn't listen when you needed me to. I'm sorry I ever made ya feel like you were wrong for trustin' me, for believin' that you deserved someone to be there for ya. You do, Tsumu. You always did, and I'm sorry it wasn't me.

“Most of all," he took a deep breath and started again. "Most of all, I'm sorry I made ya feel like you weren't a brother to me.

"We've always been more different that people think, but I still should've met ya halfway instead of makin' you cover the distance alone every time. I should've known how you are and what you need, the way you always have for me. And Rin- I'm not gonna apologize for him, he'll do that himself, but you always took care of him too. The three of us... we should've all looked out for each other, but you took care of all of us, and Rin and I just- we just looked out for ourselves. I'm sorry, Tsumu. And ya don't hafta let me, but I wanna make it up to ya. I wanna be- I wanna be brothers again, how we used to be. And i'll do the work, i'll go the whole distance, i'll do whatever ya need. You won't be alone in it anymore, I promise ya.

"I just want my big brother back, Tsumu. I miss ya, and I can't do all this without ya."

Atsumu met Samu's gaze, shell shocked at the sudden apology, and neither of them spoke for a long moment. Then suddenly, they both sniffed and tore their eyes away-the kind of in sync move that used to get them "There it is! Twin telepathy!" when they were young.

"Fuck, now I'm cryin' into the soup," Samu grumbled under his breath, wiping at his face roughly with the back of his wrist. "Why'd we hafta do this right now?"

"Hah?! Yer the one who brought it up, what do you mean we?!" Tsumu cried out, wiping his own face with a handful of paper napkins. "This is yer fault, not mine!"

"It's not my fault I had to apologize!" Samu retorted on instinct, and both of them paused. Tsumu sent him a thoroughly unimpressed glare- as much of a glare as he could manage when his eyes wouldn't stop watering.

"Say that again, slowly," Tsumu invited. "Yeah, yeah, I heard it as soon as I said it," Samu grunted, face pink. "Are we gonna keep talkin' about it or can we eat?"

"Well for one, I don't think yer in a place to be makin' demands right now," Tsumu said with as haughty a sniffle as he could manage. “And for two, I get hungry when I cry so food now, talk later."

"I know ya do, that's why I asked in the first place," Samu grumbled, but he swiped a piece of Tsumu's lamb and swished it around in the mala broth, just how Tsumu liked it, before reaching across the table and dropping it in Tsumu's dipping sauce.

It was hardly anything really, but Tsumu stared at it for a while. there were some things, he supposed, that Samu had noticed about him. Had remembered through the years. It didn't absolve him of his wrongs, it didn't fix things, but... it was nice to know, anyway. Tsumu wondered if Samu thought of him when he went out to eat with Suna, the way Tsumu always did; scanning the menu briefly to figure out what his brother would order if he was there.

Did Samu think about him when the first fireflies of the season began to appear, the ones they used to chase around with a glass jar in late summer?

Did he think of him, like Tsumu did, when that song came on the radio- the one their ma would sing out loud while she cleaned the kitchen, Tsumu and Samu watching cartoons in the next room?

Did he think of him, sometimes, when he woke up and there wasn't someone there? A matching set that had climbed under the covers with him when the thunder got too loud?

Even after all this time, so much of Tsumu's world was built by Samu. the smell of fireworks and takoyaki during matsuris, the sailor moon theme song they performed for their grandparents when they were six, the scar on his big toe where Samu nearly bit it off as a baby.

It was impossible to go a day without thinking about him, even if he tried. Samu was ingrained in his very being, always had been. Was he the same to him, tattooed on his soul from start to finish?

They ate in relative silence: Samu bracing himself for what would come next, Tsumu trying. his best to just make sense of things. A long time ago he'd posted on one of those advice forums, hurt and confused and searching for answers. They had come, mostly in the form of "Family or not, a relationship like that is more harm than good. Cut ties, put yourself first!", and some half dozen variations just like it. Tsumu had gotten sick thinking about it. He hadn't deleted the post because it was against the forum rules to delete once people had answered, but he made sure to reply to everyone. ‘You don't know what you're talking about. He's my twin brother.’

Dinner was long, though not as long as it could have been if they'd talked, but Tsumu still didn't really know what to say as they left. He wanted to say something like "It's alright, I forgive you, let's go back to how we were before" but he honestly couldn't really remember- couldn't remember when "before" was. It was hard, actually, to remember the last time Samu hadn't... hadn't scared him, at least a little.

When Tsumu went running up to him with something to say, or when he found himself crying after a bad game, or when he wanted attention just because- he couldn't remember the last time he hadn't gone expecting a weary sigh, an eye roll, a derisive laugh.

So he couldn't say it was okay. But he had a chance to have his brother back, and even if it was a bad decision, even if it meant he was the vulnerable one once again... for Samu, he would do it. He would do it again, with his trust and his hope on full display.

But this time- this time, Samu needed to do it too. Belly up and helpless, knowing the costs of failure. Tsumu wouldn't be the only one, not this time.

"I'll let ya," he finally said, the two of them frozen under some streetlight, hands shoved in their pockets to protect them from showing too much. "You and Rin, if he wants to. I'll let ya make it up to me. I want ya to, Samu, and I mean that. I don't want- this isn't some power play, alright? I'm not tryin' to guilt trip you into doin' whatever I want until I decide yer forgiven. you know I'd do anythin' for ya, even now. So, don't do this ‘cause ya want somethin' from me. I want ya to do this because you miss me too. I want-" it was hard to ask for what he wanted. "I want ya to treat me well, Samu. I want ya to treat me like someone ya want to be around, someone ya actually- actually love. Not someone ya just got stuck with.”

He took a deep breath. "We've always been brothers because that's how we were born. But I choose to be yer brother every day, Samu. I don't regret it, and I'll do it every day until I die. But you have to make that choice now. You have to prove ya want this, that it- that we, that I, am worth that effort for ya. Got it? Because I've had enough of bein' an afterthought, and I- I know now that I deserve more. So I don't really want yer apologies, to be honest, though I appreciate it nonetheless. If ya wanna make it up to me, I want ya to show up for me. I want ya to care about the things I love, to listen to me when I talk, even if ya think it's just a nod along if I'm mad! I want to know that I can go to ya about anythin'. That ya won't judge me, won't laugh at me or put me down, and I'm not- I'm not askin' ya to treat me like a princess or anythin'. I can take a joke, but ya need to know where the line is. And it won't work if I hafta point it out to ya every time. You need to pay attention. You need to care enough that I don't hafta worry about whether or not I'm linin' up to be laughed at. Understand?"

The worry that he was asking too much, making a fuss over nothing, was still incessant in the back of his mind. But he thought about his friends, about Omi, about the way he'd always shown up for Samu and Suna. If it wasn't too much for them, why would it be too much for him?

It still felt dramatic, a bit excessive, but- Samu was nodding fiercely, a determined frown pulling at his lips. "I'll do it," he said, so sure of himself. "You've always done it for us, haven't ya? If you can do it, I can do it."

Tsumu blinked. Scowled. "This isn't a competition, ya scrub! Take it seriously!"

"I'm dead serious!" Samu huffed. "Besides, what have we ever taken more seriously than a competition? All I'm sayin' is, genetically or whatever, there's no reason you should be all good at something that I can't do. So, if you can do it, I can do it. I will. I'm serious, Tsumu. Not to get anythin', not to prove anythin', just- just because, alright? You deserve it, and I miss ya, and I wanna be- I wanna be someone you trust again. I wanna be good to ya."

And it was just words- it was just promises that might or might not be kept, but it was more than Atsumu had ever expected. He was terrified, sure, but this... this meant the world to him, and he was willing to take the risk.

"Alright, alright. Then, that's it then, yeah? We've aired our grievances-"

"You aired your grievances."

"All that's left is puttin' yer money where yer mouth is. And if this is a competition-"

"It is, at least a little bit."

"Then ya should know the stakes."

Atsumu leveled Samu with a steady look. "It better end in a tie. ‘Cause if I come out on top again, I'm not risking a third chance. If I'm the one giving everything again, I'm not going to give any more.”

"Loud and clear," Samu agreed with a nod.

"And if I win, ya never get to bring up me quittin' volleyball around ma ever again.'' It was such a stupid bet, but Tsumu knew better. Samu put the odds in his favor- everything he did would be for Tsumu's benefit, not his own. If he won, all he would gain was Atsumu.

The way he looked at him now, eyes still a little pink around the edges, shoulders tight in that way they got before a fight... that was enough. Atsumu, for once, would be enough.

"Deal," Tsumu finally said, offering an outstretched pinky. Samu locked it with his own, pressed their thumbs together. "Deal."

Things weren't fixed yet, not by a long shot, but for once, Atsumu felt like things might be okay. Maybe in a year, he could plan a wedding. Have his brother as his best man, and his best friend could wipe his ma's tears when she started crying too hard.

It was far away still, but if there was one thing Tsumu knew better than anything, it was his brother, and the look in Samu's eyes said I'll do whatever it takes. Tsumu knew that look because he wore it the same.

To be brothers again, I'll do whatever it takes.

For the first time in his life, Atsumu entered a competition hoping he would lose.

[luintheworld]

No editing or fancy designs here, just a little something I worked on as I was very bored at a NYE party. Some soft Frankie to start off your year right!! :)

Frankie x reader New Year’s Eve party

We aren’t the kind of people to go to parties.

Lest the party of the friend of a friend 40 minutes away, one which required hiring a nanny and braving the New Year’s traffic on the highway.

Yet, here I was in a long blue-and-white striped dress and a full face of makeup, holding a glass of wine and making small talk with people I barely knew.

Pope had convinced Frankie to go to his fiancée’s cousin’s New Year’s Eve party, (of course he did, Pope is the only person whose words mattered as much as mine), but seeing as my husband’s best friend usually only spends two months in the US each year, I agreed.

Granted, the penthouse was stunning. I didn’t know Pope’s fiancée very well, but from what her tía had shared in the hour we’ve been standing in the corner, he was some sort of big real estate guy. The apartment was one of those multi-million, ultra-modern Miami Beach developments with panoramic views of the ocean.

I was promised a fun night to decompress from our hectic year with unlimited top-quality liquor and the usual Pope and Frankie banter.

Instead I was posted on the corner, keeping watch of the drunk tías and screaming children.

At least the wine was good.

Frankie had long since been whisked away by Pope and his gaggle of soon to be in-laws, caught up in their boisterous, beer-stained conversation. I couldn’t even be mad, just looking at him across the room.

The yellow light hit his face just right, illuminating the smile lines and soft wrinkles I so love. It was a different kind of joy on his face when he’s with Pope- boyish and carefree, stupid in the best way. They’ve gone through so much together… it’s a bond I wouldn’t dare interfere with, especially since their meetings are getting rarer.

So I mingled with some other wallflowers and ate three servings of flan, letting Frankie be Frankie. The flip side is that once he starts drinking with Pope, they won’t stop.

Since settling down after his official unofficial retirement and dedicating himself to being a dad, Frankie’s rarely drank and never used. But I know how it goes with Pope, and that’s alright, he deserved that night off more than anyone.

And that means that I was the designated driver. Someone had to get us home safe and it sure as hell wasn’t going to be Frankie. So is the nature of marriage… We've learned the hard way after 9 years.

I put down my glass, but instead of sitting through another hour of Tía Elena and her friend’s many surgeries, I decided to step outside onto the balcony.

The ocean air hit my face in a gentle breeze, carrying with it the salty smell of the sea below. I breathed it all in and there I stood, my arms draped on the glass railing, the loud chatters and upbeat music muffled behind me.

It was peaceful and beautiful, with the city lights below. After everything Frankie and I have been through, I was beyond thankful for that moment of grace. We are fully, completely happy.

We have a house and three kids and a dog. We have each other.

In the darkest moments I was sure I would never see him smile again, yet here I stood at the precipice of a new year with joy on all sides.

“Diez… Nueve…”

The crowd inside started chanting when the music stopped.

“Ocho…”

I turned around to see Frankie, two glasses of Prosecco in hand.

“Siete…”

Tía Elena opened the sliding door for him.

“Seis… Cinco…”

He counts down with a smile on his face, handing me the glass.

“Cuatro…”

I take it and he holds me by the waist with his free hand.

“Tres… Dos…”

We say together in excited anticipation.

“Uno… Happy New Year!”

Screams and whistles erupt from the street and the apartment alike. Neither of us have too much attention to the sparkling wine or the fireworks, instead our lips met through our smiling mouths and let out sweet whispered “I love you”s.

“I’m sorry, amor. This isn’t what I promised,” he said, still holding me with his gruff hands and my gaze in his mahogany eyes.

“Frankie, it’s okay. You have to enjoy Pope while he’s here.”

“I don’t deserve you,”

He sounded surprisingly serious (despite the stench of beer on his breath) as his puppy dog eyes shimmered against the golden fireworks.

“I’m so lucky to have you, Frankie. Happy new year, my love.” I gave him a peck on the cheek.

It was going to be a good year, I thought as my head rested on his chest and we watched the multicolored fireworks color the night.

It was going to be a good year.

[theluckywizard]

In the Shattering of Things, Ch. 47: Coming Clean

Chapter summary: Dagna has finally arrived to work on cleansing the lyrium remnants in her shoulder, Rose reads Cullen's report on Samson and the Red Templars and invites him to share more off the record, and later blithely surrenders to a probable shellacking in a chess match against him.

Special thanks to @bluewren for helping me sort out Dagna’s red lyrium cleansing method! You’re the best!

Fic summary: Lady Rose Trevelyan's idle, aristocratic life blinks out in a haze of irrelevance when the breach destroys the Conclave. She may be soft and coddled when she joins the Inquisition, but there's a fierceness inside her she's yet to fully recognize. Armed with only a few relevant skills and the mark that makes her a legend, she is thrust onto a path delivering hope where it’s long been scorched away and finds comfort in the grumpy, handsome stick in the mud charged with her protection and training. As she stumbles her way across southern Thedas, she begins to realize she's tangled at the center of machinations she barely understands, and she's not alone in that. Enter Hawke.

Excerpt:

“Check,” he says, a victorious smile breaking across his face.

“Are you always this smug when you’re winning?” I ask him, my king on the run across the board. He answers me with another playful raise of his brow. He’s chasing me down with his Queen and I’m trying to avoid being cornered in a string of turns in quick succession. When at last he traps me, I sigh long, slumping low in my chair and smile back at him.

“I believe the game is mine,” he says, leaning back with an insufferable grin. If this minor spark of indignance weren’t rankling, I might think more about kissing it off his face.

“It’s truly unfair that you can play this and talk at the same time,” I gripe while he resets the board.

“It comes with practice,” he says with a little smile and to anyone else, his self-satisfaction would be infuriating. “If you play enough it doesn’t require as much thought to find the patterns.”

“Well now that we’ve a score to settle, it’s only fair that you lose your shirt to me in a game of Wicked Grace,” I say and even in the firelight I can see his blush. I can’t decide if I intended to be so direct. “At some point.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever played,” he admits. “Gambling was frowned upon by the Chantry.”

“Were you so good at following the rules?”

“I was. To a fault. Following rules, following orders. I suppose I needed it at the time. But I almost lost everything to it,” he says and he purses his lips, troubled by it.

“I’ll teach you then. Since you are no longer bound by the strictures of the Order.”

“I’d like that,” he says, his surprise earnest.

“Me too,” I say and then curse my awkwardness. I venture a little more bravely. “I’m enjoying our trips to the lake in the morning.” He smiles in astonishment as if it weren’t painfully obvious, his eyes wide but dark in this light, lingering on me. He looks back at the board, a little timid.

“Rematch?”

“Seems a little self-serving, don’t you think?” I ask, reorganizing the pieces on the board.

“You have no idea,” he says, the smug lift at the corner of his mouth returning.

“We play again but this time you point out whenever I make a horrific mistake,” I propose. “That way you can have your bloody inevitable win but at least I can learn a thing or two.”

“All right,” he agrees, and I swear I see those dimples of his emerge.

Read the rest here

Read from the Beginning Here

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@warpedlegacy @rakshadow @rosella-writes @effelants @bluewren @breninarthur @ar-lath-ma-cully @dreadfutures @ir0n-angel @inquisimer @crackinglamb @theluckywizard @nirikeehan @oxygenforthewicked @exalted-dawn-drabbles @melisusthewee @blarrghe @agentkatie

My own illustration of Cullen x Rose from an earlier chapter. I love them 😍