#i just think he spends a lot of time feeling small and alone and religion helps him cope

[deivorous]

thinking about grimm and religion this morning and honestly making myself a little sad.

[farfromstrange]

Hey can I make a Matt Murdock request. It's Matt and reader's wedding day, and Matt remembers how you met in st. Agnes , the little adventures you had and how sister Maggie caught you trying to sneak out which sometimes worked out

I want to apologize for taking so long to write this! I'm so sorry. I just spent the past four hours pouring my whole soul into this because this request was just so beautiful... Like seriously, I have tears in my eyes. I listened to a lot of love songs while writing this, and I hope I could match up with your expectations. Thank you for your request and enjoy! <3

You Are The Best Thing That's Ever Been Mine | Matt Murdock x Reader

Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: On the day of your wedding, Matt thinks back to your time together at the orphanage.

Warnings: None. Tooth-rotting fluff. (not proofread though)

Word Count: ~6.8k (oops)

The church bells play an all too familiar tune. It echoes off the high walls that are adorned with colorful paintings and stone sculptures that are as old as time. Clinton Church stands taller than he is, but he doesn’t feel suffocated by it, not today.

Matt Murdock grew up on religion and has lived by his faith in God ever since. He fell into several dark holes over time, but he crawled out of them and he picked himself up again. He played this tiring game for a while. He never felt like he truly belonged anywhere. He was lost. And then you stepped back into his life.

After his father died and he was taken in by the St. Agnes orphanage in Hell’s Kitchen, Matt had more than just his grief to deal with. The accident that blinded him a year prior turned his life upside down and no one knew.

His father knew he was blind, of course, but no one knew about how he could suddenly smell or hear much better than before, and that it was worse than the usual enhancement of one’s senses after becoming blind. His senses became heightened to the point he could pick up everything around him with his ears, nose, and hands alone.

It has been the most exhausting experience, especially as a little boy, he thought about giving up many times because it confused him and it made him bitter, and then his father died and the only person he could trust was gone, too.

He felt so utterly alone, he had nightmares, he was traumatized and the children at the orphanage didn’t like him much, either. He was a broken boy, and he had no one to turn to but the sisters taking care of him. But after a while, even that support stopped when more children arrived, and he chose to fight this battle on his own. He didn’t want to bother anyone. He was lonely, but he accepted that he just wasn’t that important and that sometimes, life goes a certain way.

Matt told himself God blinded him for a reason. He tried to find a purpose in his heightened senses and whatever else came with the accident and his father’s wrongful death, but with each passing day in this small bedroom with the church bells ringing in the background, causing his head to spin with their audacity, he lost more and more of the hope he swore himself he would keep. He wasn’t just alone, he adopted this feeling of loneliness and ran with it, turning more and more into an outsider. But he also had nothing to show for himself as the other kids did. He was blind, he was different, and that was never appreciated.

One day though, after spending most of his time hiding away in a corner, listening to the people around him and judging them in his own way, a set of small footsteps approached where he was sitting in the garden behind the orphanage.

He remembers the way your dress brushed against your tights, a sound he found annoying and painful at first, but he quickly got used to it. He remembers how you walked up to him with almost determined steps after Sister Maggie showed you the way and dropped you there for you to explore. He remembers your little sigh when you realized how far away he was from the other kids, but you didn’t turn around and leave when you noticed his black-rimmed glasses or the cane next to him.

You stopped in front of him, and Matt did not once forget the sound of your voice when you first spoke to him, “Is this seat taken?” he remembers you asking, and you sounded a lot nicer than the other children.

He frowned, at first, because he wasn’t used to being talked to. He figured you must be playing with him. But you didn’t stop there.

You chose to sit down next to him, and you smiled when you said, “I like your glasses, by the way.”

He remembers turning his head in your direction, signaling he was listening. You took that as an invitation to introduce yourself. Your name rolled beautifully off your tongue, and he stored it away instantly, along with the sound of your voice.

“I’m Matt,” he chose to tell you.

You smiled even brighter and took his hand, shaking it. “Nice to meet you, Matt,” you said.

Eight years, that’s how long you stayed. And during those eight years, you became inseparable. He confided in you about his heightened senses, and when Stick came around and left as fast as he had appeared, you were the one who picked up his broken pieces.

The first field trip you took together was to Central Park. The sun was shining brightly that day. Sister Maggie and some of the other nuns accompanied your group, and you quickly found your spot next to Matt. It was the first time he wasn't stuck with an adult during a day out, and he was so flustered, he remembers forgetting his words when your cheery nature found a place next to him.

Your heart has always been a steady sound in his ear, and back then, it grounded him whenever he had to face situations that made him uneasy. Field trips held so many different sensations that overwhelmed him, and he often felt as if his disability wasn't taken very seriously, but with you by his side, he could actually feel the sun on his skin rather than the heavy lump in his throat. He didn't want to cry on the way there; he listened to the beautiful sound of your voice, your laughter, and your excitement both infectious enough to make him smile, and it's something he swore he would always cherish. You had a talent, and he was the only one you used it on.

“Hey,” he remembers you saying when he was hiding away at the back of the group once again. You reached out to gently take his hand. “Don't worry, I'll be your guide today,” you said.

It wasn't pity, you actually enjoyed doing this for him. Even though it was hot outside, he ignored the sweat simply to hold your hand.

“What if…I get lost?” he remembers asking you, and you laughed at that-

You squeezed his hand reassuringly. “I've got you. Trust me.”

As you strolled through the park, you described everything you saw. You walked him through it the way you saw it, and he imagined how the world looked like through your eyes.

“The sky is so blue, Matt,” you said, pointing upward. “It stretches out like an endless canvas. And the clouds are little white specks of color that take different shapes wherever you look.”

Matt tilted his head, a small smile gracing his lips. “I wish I could see it.” It was the first time he actively admitted it to you, and your heart broke a little.

“But you can feel it,” you instantly tried to make him feel better. “The warmth of the sun on your skin, the gentle breeze ruffling your hair. You can smell the flowers. It's all there. Sight is so overrated, anyway.”

He stored your advice for another day, knowing that you weren't wrong. Next, you stopped near a bed of colorful flowers. You crouched down and reached out, picking one. The scent seemed familiar.

“Close your eyes and breathe in,” you instructed, holding the flower near his nose.

Matt followed your guidance, inhaling the sweet scent. “It's… it's beautiful,” he said.

“You see, Matt,” you said, “Beauty isn't just in what we see. It's in the little things we discover along the way.”

For someone who lost so much, you were a true optimist. You breathed fresh air into his life.

With each step, you continued to describe the vibrant colors, the rustling leaves, and the laughter of children in the distance. Matt's trust in you grew, and he found solace in the world you painted for him.

Of course, he could hear, smell and feel everything down to the smallest detail, but the way you described it was so different from the picture he had painted before, and he let you change his perspective. Your view of the world was much more beautiful than his, and he rather lived in a fairytale than take everything too seriously. With you, he could be himself. That was the first day he came to that realization, and his loneliness slowly started to die out.

That day, as you explored the park hand in hand, Matt realized that his blindness didn't define him. With you by his side, he discovered a newfound appreciation for the world and the beauty that could be found in even the smallest details.

The months passed by and turned into years, and you grew closer as friends. During the times you were allowed to play together, you never left each other’s sides, much to some of the nuns’ dismay, but Sister Maggie was the one who encouraged Matt to tie himself to you so he wouldn’t be as alone, and he gladly did it every time. She saw something in you that he could feel with every one of your fleeting touches and the sound of your voice, and your friendship became a lifeline he kept holding onto. But he was yours, too, which you told him many times before, and he told you he would be more than happy to show you the world through his senses. He made you feel seen and appreciated in a way no one has before, a job he took seriously enough to somehow take permanent residency in your life–but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

The summer sun beat down on the small group of children from the orphanage as you made your way to a nearby lake. Sister Maggie never struggled to control the group and she was one of the nicer sisters who allowed you to do silly things others didn't, so you often used that to your advantage.

Being friends with Matt for three years, you gradually figured out who he is, and in return, you revealed parts of yourself. You were the duo most kids feared, which was one of the reasons why the boys stopped picking on him, and the girls had never even dared to say a bad thing about you. Still, you were the weird outcasts who always hung out together; you both prided yourself on that title and often made fun of it.

Laughter filled the air as you excitedly chatted about the day's adventure. Matt walked beside you, his cane tapping gently on the ground. His other hand rested on your arm. He didn't need it, he once admitted to you, but he still felt safer and more grounded, knowing he could hold onto someone in case something happened.

As you approached the shimmering lake, you couldn't help but notice Matt's hesitance. You turned to him with a mischievous grin.

“Hey, Matt,” you said, nudging his arm playfully. “Remember the promise we made when we were little? That we'd jump in a lake together someday?”

Matt's lips curled into a shy smile. “Yeah, I remember. But… I can't swim,” he said. “What if something goes wrong?”

You patted his back reassuringly. “You're not alone, are you?”

With newfound determination, Matt nodded, placing his trust in you once again. The cool breeze kissed your cheeks as you waded into the lake, the water lapping at your feet.

You turned to Matt, splashing water playfully. “Come on, Matt! The water feels amazing!”

He remembers the goosebumps on his skin, the eagerness in your voice. His uncertainty melted away when you reached out to help him inside somewhere he could stand, and he felt a little less scared about his ability to control the setting. With hesitant steps, he followed you, the soft sand beneath his feet giving way to gentle ripples in the water.

As you both ventured deeper, you guided Matt's hand to your shoulder, urging him to relax and float. “Just trust me,” you said.

Little did you know that he trusted you with his life already.

He took a deep breath, his body relaxing as he felt the water supporting him. A surge of joy filled your heart as you watched his confidence grow. You took his other hand, spinning in the water together, laughter echoing across the lake. He might have been standing on the sandy ground of the lake, but it still reminded him of the times his father took him to the pool. Sharing this moment with you felt… different, but in a good way, and he slowly started to warm up to the idea of enjoying a day in the water. You were always careful with him, and he knew you would never let him drown.

Time seemed to stand still. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you and the tranquility of the lake. The other children moved into the background, and Sister Maggie's pleas for you to be careful or even better, get out, met deaf ears as you got lost in each other's eyes. You were only twelve then, but it was like that day changed a lot in the way he felt about you, which is why he remembers that day vividly, still. You made him feel so alive that day, and it's a feeling he still gets whenever he looks into your beautiful eyes.

Matt's voice broke the peaceful silence, barely above a whisper. He said your name softly, something that always managed to make you smile. “This feels… it feels like a dream,” he said.

The warmth of the sun on your face mirrored the warmth in your heart. “No, Matt, this is real,” you told him. “This is our moment. And it's ours to keep.”

As you floated side by side, surrounded by the serenity of the lake, you both realized that this connection, this friendship, was something precious and unbreakable. Life without you seemed like an impossibility to him.

One month turned into twenty-four. You were teenagers, he remembers when your mischief took on a new size. You would appear in front of his door at random hours of the night, tapping on his door three times, before leaning against the wall. He would put on his shoes and grab his cane before making his way outside.

The first time it happened, he hissed at you, “Are you insane?! What if we get caught? Sister Maggie would ground us for the rest of our lives! Oh God–”

You cut him off with a giggle and told him, “We only live once, Matthew, and I am tired of spending every last minute of my life in this place. I wanna live! Please, just trust me. I have a plan.”

And from there on, you would sneak out any other night. You always found spots in nature for you to sit down and talk without people around. You shared stories, laughed, and cried together, and it worked as glue. You became even more inseparable.

Sometimes, you would take him to the lake, sit down with him and describe the night sky to him. You would point out constellations, tell him the meaning behind them and fantasize about life beyond what you could see. He was quick to dispute it because there could only be one God, so there couldn’t be any other universes out there, and once again you only laughed.

You both had a different take on religion; he’s always considered you a dreamer, and you never changed, which he found endearing because you believed in what you wanted to believe in, always. And you made sure you always got what you wanted.

You always snuck past Sister Maggie’s room and made it back in time. It worked almost always, except for the days when someone else was in charge of supervising you, and then you would have to wait until everyone was asleep to tap a steady rhythm against the thin wall of your dormitory.

The sole reason you learned Morse code was to communicate with Matt, knowing he could hear you wherever. In a time before everyone had a cell phone, it was your way of staying in contact.

A few more years passed. You both started maturing, growing up, and going through changes. Life became harder, but you stayed together. Your friendship blossomed, you continued to sneak out, and the one-time Sister Maggie caught you, she simply rolled her eyes and sent you back to your rooms.

That one pivotal night though when you were both sixteen and carefree, the night shimmered with an air of excitement as you sat by the peaceful lake by the orphanage, engrossed in Matt's animated storytelling. His voice had dropped sometime over the past year and it was a sound that would always send shivers down your spine.

He was full of enthusiasm as he shared the details of his latest discovery while he was doing research for a school presentation. You found yourself focused on his hands and his lips rather than the story, and the sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine. When you looked into his eyes, his glasses long discarded, you seemed to realize something, and the silence from your end alarmed your friend.

Amidst the excitement in his voice, a new realization took hold. Matt was more than just your best friend; an undeniable connection went beyond friendship.

Caught amid this realization, you found yourself lost in the features of his face, your mind spinning. Matt's voice trailed off, and he noticed your gaze fixed on him, a puzzled expression crossing his face.

“What's wrong?” he asked. “Is there something on my face?”

Your mind raced to catch up with your feelings. Without uttering a word, you leaned forward, closing the distance between you, and pressed your lips against his. It was a spontaneous and slightly awkward first kiss, but Matt remembers every last second of it.

For a moment, the world paused, and you both froze, the realization of what had just happened sinking in. Uncertainty hung in the air, but then Matt's hand gently cupped your cheek, his touch gentle and comforting. He traced your features, and they were so vulnerable and delicate that night.

He remembers swallowing, the panic that sent the blood rushing to his cheeks, and the strange change in the rhythm of your beating heart. “I, uh…” Matt tried to find the right words, but his mind was blank. Your lips left a tingling sensation on his own, and he somehow couldn't comprehend what was happening to his body. It was confusing. “That was… unexpected,” he said.

You felt mixed emotions swirling within you, but the desire to explore this newfound connection outweighed any awkwardness. Without hesitation, you leaned back in and kissed him again, this time more confidently, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

The awkwardness quickly melted away when Matt finally realized what he wanted, too. Your lips moved in harmony, exploring the tender and unfamiliar territory you found yourselves on.

The touch of Matt's lips against yours sent electric currents through your veins, and the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you.

Eventually, you pulled away, breathless and wide-eyed.

“I… I don't know what to say,” he confessed.

You smiled at him. “Do we need to say anything?” you retorted.

Matt remembers the exact moment he realized that he fell fast and hard for you; it wasn't the kiss that proved his feelings for you, it was what happened after. You looked at him, brushed a strand of hair out of his face, and told him, “You're beautiful, Matthew. Inside and out.”

And that was the moment he first knew he loved you more than just a best friend. He would have walked through fire for you, and it was never a doubt in his mind. The realization hit him hard, but he somehow never questioned it. He realized he loved you, and from that moment on, he rolled with it.

Matt remembers that he only acted after hearing you say those words. He told you, “Says the most beautiful girl in this godforsaken place.”

He gently pulled you back into his embrace, his lips finding yours once more. You couldn't even berate him for the blasphemy because he was right, and you smiled against his lips; this was the day you both finally found a home.

A few years had passed since that fateful night by the lake, and your bond with Matt grew stronger.

On this particular night, you found yourselves drawn to the library. The quiet stillness of the space provided a temporary escape.

As you settled into a hidden corner, the soft glow of the moon filtered through the window. You found solace in each other's arms, curled into a corner on the window sill. Matt's arms were wrapped around you and he held you as tightly as he could.

His lips ghosted over yours and you kissed back. He sighed into your mouth, his large hand on your cheek holding you right there. “I wish I could stay with you,” you murmured.

He nuzzled his nose against yours. “You know that's not a good idea,” he said.

“Why though?”

“For one, we'd get caught and two,” his hand stopped at your neck, feeling your pulse jump and he sighed, “I wouldn't be able to keep my hands off of you.”

Your cheeks flushed a bright red, and just as you're about to kiss him again (damn his silver tongue), he stops you with the same hand that's on your throat. “Sister Maggie,” he said.

Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see Sister Maggie standing at the entrance of the library, her expression a mix of surprise, disappointment, and disapproval. The realization of the rules you were breaking washed over you.

You shot up into a sitting position and Matt followed suit. You had never been so ashamed in your entire life.

Sister Maggie's eyes flitted between you and Matt. The disapproving silence hung heavy in the air before she finally spoke.

“You two,” she said. “What on earth are you doing?”

“We, um…” You bit your lip. “We weren't doing anything, I promise!”

Matt quickly adjusted his shirt and agreed, “We're so sorry, sister.”

He remembers faintly how she lifted her finger. “I expected better from the two of you,” she continued. “As young adults, you should understand the importance of adhering to the rules and maintaining appropriate behavior within these walls. And in front of God? I taught you better than that! Up, both of you!”

Neither of you hesitated to get off the window sill. She approached you both. “Now, I suggest you both leave this library immediately and return to your rooms. There will be no further discussions about this matter.”

Her words cut deep, but you tended to forget where you were living sometimes. You exchanged a glance.

“You're lucky it was me who found you,” she said. “Now go! I don't want to see either of you wandering these walls at night ever again, are we clear?”

You nodded wildly. While you said, “Yes, Sister Maggie,” Matt found himself at a loss for words.

Without uttering another word, you followed Sister Maggie's order, slowly making your way out of the library. Each step felt like a punishment, he remembers.

Her actions had made it clear that the boundaries between friendship and romance were not to be crossed within the confines of the orphanage. You had to live with that.

Though once you were out of her earshot, your giggles filled the hallway, and Matt pinched your arm. “It's not funny,” he whispered.

You couldn't help but giggle again. He's always loved how you could laugh about everything. “I know, I know,” you said to him, trying to stifle your laughter. “But the look on Sister Maggie's face… I can't help it.”

Matt shook his head. “You're going to get us into even more trouble if you don't stop.”

You sobered up, realizing the truth in his words, and you both fell into a comfortable silence as you walked back to your rooms. The echoes of Sister Maggie's disapproval still lingered, a reminder of the boundaries that governed your lives.

As you reached the hallway that led to your respective rooms, you paused, facing each other. The dim light from the hallway cast soft shadows on your faces. You longed for him. Just one night with him would have fixed both of your sleep habits and it would have done you good, but you knew you had to part ways. It hurt, but it was a reality you came to live with.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again. “I didn't mean to get us into trouble.”

Matt's expression softened as he reached out to gently touch your cheek. He made sure no one was around so he could touch you one last time, at least. “It's not entirely your fault,” he said. “We both got carried away.”

You nodded. “We should be more careful. We don't want to risk getting separated, do we?”

Never, he remembers thinking. Getting separated had sounded like torture then. “You're right,” he agreed. “We'll have to be more cautious from now on. It's not worth putting our future at risk.”

A mixture of disappointment and longing settled in your heart as you prepared to part ways for the night.

You hoped your relationship could survive this.

With a lingering touch, you both turned and retreated to your respective rooms, the weight of the night's events etching themselves into your memories.

You both knew the boundaries were in place for a reason and though it pained you, you were willing to respect them. You had to. You grew up there. The stolen moments and the unspoken promises would have to find solace in the hidden corners of your hearts until the time was right to let them flourish fully. At least that was what you told yourselves for the following 365 days.

When you turned eighteen and finished school, everything changed. Matt remembers that day as trauma, and maybe it partly was.

One day, as you returned from school, Sister Margaret approached you with a warm smile, handing you an envelope.

“Congratulations, dear,” she said. “A letter from Stanford arrived for you today.”

You froze.

Entering your room, you found Matt sitting on your bed, his head turning toward you as you entered. He sensed the strange weight in your hands, the unshed tears in your eyes, and his smile faded. “What's in your hands?” he asked.

You took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. Your heart dropped, he could hear it. And that was when you told him, “It’s a letter from Stanford.”

Silence hung in the air as Matt absorbed your words. This wasn't what you had planned together, and his world seemed to stop right then and there.

“Why didn't you tell me you applied?” Matt's voice held a touch of hurt.

Your heart sank, knowing that this was a conversation you couldn't avoid. “I didn't know how to bring it up,” you admitted. “I was scared… scared of what it would mean for us.”

His brows furrowed. “What does it mean for us? Are you planning to leave? We said we’d go to Columbia, why–Is this no longer something you want? Us? You and me, going to college together?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you rushed to explain, “No, Matt, it's not like that! I love you, and I want to be with you. But Stanford… it's an opportunity I've always dreamed of. I don't want to live with regrets if I don't even try. It's… it's a full-ride scholarship, Matty. It's not just an acceptance letter, it's an offer.”

He was happy for you, and in hindsight, he should have reacted differently, but he was so hurt. He looked away, his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. “But what about us?” he asked. “What about the plans we made? We made all these plans for the future…”

Unshed tears glisten in his unfocused eyes, and he could tell it broke you just the same to tell him.

“I don't want to lose you, Matt,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The letter weighed heavy in your hands. “But I also can't ignore my dreams.”

“I won't ask you to give up your dreams for me. You know I wouldn't, but… I can't help feeling like you're just going down a path so far from mine, and… it scares me.”

The room filled with a heavy silence. The realization that a difficult decision lay ahead threatened to tear at the fabric of your love. You were so young, so naive, but you have always known just exactly what you wanted.

“I don't want to lose you,” you whispered, repeating your previous sentiment. “Maybe… maybe we can make it work, despite the distance.” Your eyes lit up, but the hope felt tainted. “We can try, right? We can promise to support each other and keep our love alive, even if we're apart.”

Matt's gaze softened. “I want to believe that,” he said, “but it won't be easy. We'll have to fight against the odds. Are we strong enough for that?”

“We'll never know if we don't try,” you said. “We owe it to ourselves to give it a chance.”

He took a deep breath, then opened his arms for you as so often and held you as you cried, not sure if out of sadness or excitement, but that stupid letter to Stanford was bound to change everything.

When you moved away to college, leaving New York and Matt behind, the contact you promised to keep up faded eventually. He got into law school, you made a living for yourself, your calls eventually stopped, no more letters or gifts, and after one particularly rough night of partying, that was it. You ended it.

Eight years washed down the drain because life has funny ways of breaking people apart. At first, Matt was sad, but he learned to move on and eventually became a lawyer, found friends, and moved on the same way you seemed to have done all those years ago.

But there came a time when he least expected it, and you promptly bumped into him in a courthouse in Hell’s Kitchen. Matt recognized you almost instantly from the sound of your voice alone, and even though he grew up and aged like fine wine, you called his name the second you looked into his red glasses.

As you locked eyes, the memories of your past came rushing back for both of you. It was pouring rain outside. Your hair stuck to your face as so did his, but he was still the same Matt from before, only older, and you also hadn't changed much.

“Matt?” you whispered in disbelief.

A flicker of recognition crossed his face, his hand resting on your arm. “Is it really you?” he asked after calling your name.

A bittersweet smile graced your lips as you nodded. “It's me,” you replied softly. “I never thought I'd see you again. How- how have you been?”

He told you about his practice, he remembers, and you listened closely. You told him you were proud of him and then you told him about med school and how you were a resident now, but a slot opened up in Hell's Kitchen for a fellowship and you chose to move again. It was fate, almost.

His gaze softened as he listened to your breathing, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips, and the feelings he had pushed down for so long resurfaced. “I thought about you often,” he remembers dropping on you the second he caught his breath again

“I'm sorry,” you whispered back to him. “I let life get in the way, and I let go of something so special. I will never forgive myself for how we ended. I… we… I cared about you, Matthew. It wasn't just some stupid childhood fling for me.”

Matt's hand reached out, his fingers gently brushing against yours. “We both made mistakes. We should have worked harder, it's not…You're not the only one who fucked up, so…”

You licked your lips. “We were too young,” you said.

“Yeah,” he instantly agreed without missing a beat, “We were. And a little dumb, maybe.”

You chuckled, tears welling up in your eyes as you looked into his eyes. “I've missed you,” you confessed. “I've missed us.”

“I've missed you too. Us. But especially you.”

The courthouse buzzed with activity around you, the hustle and bustle of lawyers, judges, and clients filling the air. But at that moment, it felt as if time stood still, and it was just the two of you. It reminded you of your childhood when you would spend time at the water together, whispering hushed promises underneath the night sky.

“Let's start over,” you suggested. And then you reintroduced yourself, telling him your name with that wonderful smile of yours, and he was enchanted all over again.

A smile tugged at the corners of Matt's lips, too, as he reached out to take your hand. “Matt Murdock,” he said. “Nice meeting you.”

That was the day everything changed. To think that day lies three years in the past now is something he still hasn’t wrapped his mind around, but fate brought you back together, and after months of pining and him hiding who he truly is to no avail, you finally took the first step.

You accepted that he is Daredevil without second-guessing or being mad at him. You walked through hell with him and you came out on the other side stronger than before, and Matt realized soon enough that he could never love someone as much as he loves you.

And on a beautiful Saturday in June, he asked you to marry him at the same lake you used to hide out as kids. You said yes, of course. He feared for a moment you wouldn’t, but you jumped into his arms as soon as he got on his knees, and the deal was sealed.

Matt can’t see, that is no secret. He thought it might ruin your wedding experience, but you reassured him you didn’t care about whether or not his eyes fell out of his head when you would walk down the aisle. He wishes he could see you in your dress, but he has made peace with the fact he couldn’t.

As he’s standing in the small room hidden away in Clinton Church now, nervously fiddling with the flower stuck to his suit jacket, he can’t help but recall all the little moments you shared while you were growing up, and how fate brought you back together when you both needed it the most. You picked each other up, and you saved each other’s lives.

You asked one of your bridesmaids to tell him to wait right there, and he has been standing there, looking out of the window at the small lake in the distance for a while now. He wonders what you’re doing, but Foggy told him to be patient, so he tries to swallow his curiosity and waits some more.

He never thought he would get married, but he remembers thinking one night as a boy that if he ever got married, he would only get married to you.

As the anticipation builds up, Matt's heart races with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He can hear the distant sound of footsteps approaching, followed by your heartbeat. You smell like flowers and vanilla, and the fabric brushing against your legs sounds soft, almost like his silk sheets.

The door to the small room creaks open, finally, and he holds his breath, bracing himself for the sight he would never be able to see. And then, there you are, standing at the doorway. Your dress, carefully chosen and adorned, flows elegantly around you. It's silk with lace adorning the top, but you made sure that it would feel nice to him and look good on you, still.

Matt's senses heighten when you enter, capturing every detail he can possibly perceive. Most of all though, he memorizes your heartbeat once again and takes a good whiff of the beautiful scent you carry with yourself. You are one hundred percent yourself and he has never been more in love.

Today, you don't have to sneak around or hide away, even though it still feels like it, in this room secluded from everyone else, and his heart races faster when he thinks about how full circle this moment feels.

You take a step closer, your footsteps soft against the floor. You're wearing heels, but you seem to walk comfortably in them. Matt's heart skips a beat when he hears your voice. "Matthew," you breathe. "I'm here."

With a gentle smile, you extend your hand. Matt reaches out, intertwining your fingers. You close in on him until you're right in front of him, and he blinks as if he can't believe it. You remove his glasses, tears already forming in his eyes from how many emotions crash into him, but you don't feel much better. Seeing his brown eyes search yours, you swallow the lump in your throat, and you try not to start sobbing right then and there.

Your pulse jumps under his fingers; he chuckles because it seems ironic that you're more nervous than him, so beautiful and innocent. You're his everything, his world, the reason he's still alive, and he can never repay you for all you've done for him.

His fingertips graze the delicate fabric of your dress. He traces the intricate patterns, feeling the smoothness and intricacy, the silk and the lace. You guide him a little, building up his confidence. He feels the slit that runs down your leg, the garter belt you're wearing, and he swears he might puke. Your face is next, and with that, he takes his sweet time. You close your eyes and let him explore. He cradles you so delicately, almost as if you're a porcelain doll.

His breath shudders. "Fuck," he murmurs. The reality of the moment hits him. The first tear escapes his left eye. He never thought he would have the opportunity to experience something like this, and now he is experiencing it with you, the love of his life. It feels so surreal, he can't breathe.

His voice quivers as he speaks. "You're breathtaking," he says. "I can't even…Jesus, you're amazing."

You choke up too, your lips curling up into a smile. "Don't make me cry," you retort. "You're gonna ruin my makeup, Prince Charming."

He joins in, his hand remaining on your cheek as he takes in the person that you are through his other senses. You feel so much closer like this. You're his and he is yours, forever.

You step closer. Matt's arms envelop you in a warm embrace, holding you tightly against his chest. He always knows what you want, what you need, and he is more than willing to give it to you unconditionally.

"I love you," Matt whispers into your ear. "I've loved you since we were kids, and I'll love you until the end of time."

You swallow the tears that threaten to fall. "I love you too. With every beat of my heart. I fell in love with you the second I saw you sitting there all alone," you say. "You're never getting rid of me."

He chuckles. "Oh, sweetheart, that's the reason we're here today in the first place. You don't get one without the other." Matt brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. "You're mine and I'm yours. Always and forever. I promise."

Just as you are starting to get lost in each other's eyes, the door creaks open, and Foggy's voice breaks the moment. "Am I interrupting something here, lovebirds?" he chirps.

You turn to see Foggy standing at the doorway, a playful smirk on his face. Matt releases you from his embrace, and the two of you share a sheepish smile.

"Not at all, Foggy," you reply, wiping away the remnants of your tears. "We were just having a moment."

Foggy chuckles. "Well, don't get too caught up in the moment. Remember, Matt, you can't kiss the bridge until the ceremony. That's what you told me to tell you," he says. "So, take a step back."

Matt rolls his eyes but follows his instructions. "Better?"

Foggy shakes his head. "Further."

"You want me to wait outside? You know this is my bride, right? And I can't even see her."

You laugh. Turning to your husband-to-be, you gently tug at his arm. "Guess you'll have to contain ourselves until then," you say.

“How will I ever manage that?” Matt retorts. “I only waited over a decade to get you back.” Followed directly by a dramatic sigh.

“Exactly,” you and Foggy say at the same time.

You glance at Matt, a silent understanding passing between you. You faced so much together, hand in hand, and this moment would be no different. You’ve never been big on traditions, anyway.

You turn back to Foggy. "We're ready,” you tell him. “And we've decided to walk down the aisle together.”

Foggy's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but a smile quickly spreads across his face. "Well, I'll be damned!" he quips. "Leave it to you two to make things even more unique. Less work for me, I suppose. Let's get this show on the road then."

And as you take those first steps together, Matt realizes that you chatting him up all those years ago at St. Agnes was just the beginning of your story.

Matt Murdock Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @lina-mar @itwasthereaminuteago @mattkinsella @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal

[ask-spooky-manor]

Toby Character Headcanons

So I was tagged with a list of questions for me to answer that I reblogged, and while none of them were sent in my inbox, I still wanted to answer some cause they were really interesting.

Trigger Warning: I do talk about how abuse has affected Toby and how it has left some long lasting scars mentally and emotionally speaking. Not all of the headcanons are like that though, just be cautious. Nothing too in detail but can be uncomfortable

Clothing style

Toby’s style is like mixing grunge with cottagecore (goblincore is what it’s usually called). He likes his knitted sweaters and earthy tones, but at the same time he enjoyes ripped jeans and chunky black boots that can basically double as a weapon.

Eating Habits

Toby has a massive appetite. You will always catch him with a snack in his hands or complaining that he’s hungry despite having eaten a full meal not ten minutes ago. He just really likes food, and people in the house know to give him an extra serving for dinner

Hobbies

Music is more of a passion so tinkering around and making little gadgets is probably his number one hobby. He mainly likes to make things that blow up. Other general hobbies he has are cooking, hiking, uhhhh arson, and drawing

Fighting Style

He’s fully aware that he’s not the strongest or fastest or even has the most endurance, but Toby is extremely clever and crafty. He thinks way outside of the box and relies heavily on all of his odd little gadgets and inventions to surprise an enemy like smoke bombs, traps, loud fire crackers, you name it. He is an unpredictable fighter because you’ll never know what he has up his sleeves, and the surprise is something he will very much use against you. Not to mention that when he’s stuck in a sticky situation, he’s really good at coming up with on the spot plans that will get him out of trouble.

Ways he says I love you

Well, he will just say it. Toby won’t shy away from using the L word on anyone he even mildly likes. Though another way he shows it is through encouraging his loved ones to take care of themselves. He will make sure you eat properly, sleep well, take your meds, etc. Also hugs, Toby is a hugger.

Introvert or Extrovert

Extrovert, which surprised him when he realized it. Toby thought he was introverted for the longest time when in reality he was just dealing with a lot of nasty people who made him feel unsafe. Being alone felt safer, but at the same time it made him miserable because he naturally gains more energy with good people around. Ending up in the manor was the best thing to happen to him because now he has buddies he can spend time with like all the time.

Religious or Non-religious?

Complicated as fuck. He was raised Christian only to kind of despise organized religions as a whole. He would say he’s an atheist if he didn’t live with a literal moon god (Ben), so now he just has a beef with gods in general (Except Ben, they’re chill). Basically he thinks about how if these beings really are all powerful, all kind, all forgiving and omniscient and good then why the fuck did none of them help him? Why did it reach a point where he killed his own father? Why was he never saved? Basically, the idea of there being a higher power gets him in a bitter mood. Best to avoid the subject altogether.

Something he could never forgive.

Toby is generally a forgiving person but the one thing he could never forgive is when someone takes advantage of the kindness he is willing to give. Classmates did it in school as a way to bully him, and his dad would sometimes guilt trip favors out of him (usually to sneak him more beer, which will end up biting Toby in the ass when facing his drunk dad later on). Just the general act of trying to manipulate Toby, knowing they can toy with the heart he wears on his sleeve, is enough for him to want that person dead.

Something that scares him.

For the small, irrational fear; Toby is afraid of the dark. It’s just a childhood fear that he never really got over. It’s fine if he’s with someone but being alone in the dark will put him in fight or flight mode. For the bigger existential shit: dreads the idea of everyone secretly hating him. His own father and peers have created this idea in Toby’s mind that there is nothing good about him. That his own existence is nothing but a burden on others, so there’s always this fear that his friends and even his own boyfriend don’t actually like him and that it’s all a front. He knows that realistically that’s not true, but it’s hard fighting against a toxic mindset that was pushed into his brain at such a young age.

Did he grow up too fast?

No, thankfully. It was Lyra who had to grow up too fast. Connie did her best, she really did, but there have been a lot of times where it was Lyra who had to care for Toby. Especially after really bad nights where their dad thought having one more bottle wouldn’t be a problem. Toby was unlucky enough to have been surrounded by people that were cruel to him, but thanks to Lyra and his mom he at least was able to be a kid from time to time.

[phoenixyfriend]

hi, What do you Think a twilight starWars crossover would Look like¿

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

This ask meme is from over a year ago. Please don't send new prompts.

I think we ought to go full on intrusive crossover here. Couple of SW characters get dumped in Twilight via Weird Sith Temple. Somewhere midway through New Moon, after Edward leaves but before Bella starts clawing her way out of depression, some new people show up in town. "Ben," Anakin, and Ahsoka. (Obi-Wan quickly realized that his full name got weirder looks than the others, and Ben didn't, so he shifted.)

Ahsoka doesn't go out much, but fully disguises herself when she does. It involves a whole lot of tattoo-coverup foundation to disguise her marks, keeping her mouth mostly closed when she talks to hide her peculiar teeth, and wraps her lekku and montrals up in a weird way that ends up looking like a cross between horned hennin (the medieval veil horns, think "Disney's Descendants" Maleficent) and a hijab (deeply uncomfortable, because this is not her religion and, even if there are other religions that engage in similar coverage, she doesn't belong to any of them). It nets her a decent amount of attention, which she hates, so she usually stays in the small house they've gotten, or runs off to spend time alone or with Anakin in the forest. With the Force, she can stay warned of random hikers well enough to avoid running into strangers when she isn't in disguise.

Since Anakin and Obi-Wan are both too old for high school and do not have any interest in it anyway, and Ahsoka's definitely not going to do anything in that regard because she's not going out into public unless she absolutely has to, we do not have the usual Twilight crossover situation of running into people at high school. Instead, there are three separate incidents that lead to these lives intersecting: - Obi-Wan gets investigated by Charlie, because quite frankly people are concerned about His Daughter being such a shut-in and Charlie figured he'd check in personally before trying to get CPS involved. - Bella's old truck has a problem, and before she can take it to a mechanic or call Jacob (as suggested by Charlie), that Weird New Guy who's a few years older than her sees her staring under the hood of her truck with a look of pure confusion. - Ahsoka, who can usually avoid people in the forest, runs into one of the early pack members, who are much much faster than the humans she's been doing just fine circling around. Paul or Sam, probably.

Results: - Obi-Wan manages to talk his way out of trouble by being himself, but also by successfully explaining that Ahsoka, due to some bodily traits she was born with, finds herself very uncomfortable in public due to people staring at her, which does get corroborated by Ahsoka herself a few days later. - Bella, who gets 'this is a weird ass person who is very dangerous' vibes from Anakin, feels alive for the first time in months. She decides to seek him out for more of Danger Adrenaline Wakefulness to combat her debilitating depression. He handles this by deciding she should learn how to fight. It's not a great solution but it's... a solution? (Anakin would much prefer if she'd gone her canon route and started hanging out with Jacob instead. The only teen girl he wants to spend time with is his little sister. Why is this girl here? Anakin hopes she doesn't have a crush, he's definitely told her he's married in hopes of heading that off, which led to a very uncomfortable conversation with Obi-Wan.) At some point, Bella does start hanging out with Jacob, because their friendship means a lot to me, but also because Charlie's not exactly comfortable with Bella hanging out around that twitchy veteran who gets a far-off look in his eyes sometimes and is a few years older than Bella, just dashing enough that if she falls in love with a guy who moved in from out of town again, he's not sure she'll recover when he leaves. (Charlie's much less worried after Bella mentions, once, that Anakin's hoping to leave soon to get back to His Wife, whom he clearly loves a lot according to Bella, but Charlie's still much more comfortable with her hanging out at La Push.) - Ahsoka has some new friends, who are weird enough that she doesn't have to hide being weird too. Sure, she's a space alien with horns and fleshy tentacles and stripes, but they can shapeshift and are theoretically immortal, so who's counting?

Alice and Jasper show up a few weeks later, because 'being around Anakin' is actually not great for Bella's future being visible (because he's not actually 100% human, for Force baby reasons, so everything about him makes Bella's future fuzzy), and now they run into Ahsoka, and. That's not really great for anyone? Ahsoka isn't fast enough to run away from them without using the Force but she is tricky enough to trip them up and run off and trained enough to shrug of Jasper's emotional manipulations. She runs to the house and hides in her room after letting Obi-Wan know what happened. She's pretty sure these are the 'vampires' those shapeshifter guys told her about.

[fantomette22]

Laurence, First Vicar of the Healing Church!

I wanted to share my drawings & designs for Laurence. Some thoughts and headcanons.

I'm not going to go into details or into a serious analysis of one of the more interesting and important character of Bloodborne. It's not the purpose of this post. Take this as a funny post of a fan who just want to share what's on her mind/& dumb headcanons. There's a lot of things I didn't thought about yet (thank you confusing bloodborne timeline <3) and I will probably forget a few things/will not talk about everything because there's too much things ! So don't hesitate to ask questions & I will try to answer.

I’m really surprise to enjoy this character that much. I can't stop drawing /imagining stuff about him. He's not my favorite character at all, but well it's Laurence. I didn't thought he would left such a big impression on me. Such a tragic and interesting character...

My personal interpretations of Laurence in game are either :

THE DEVIL. All the conspiracy theories about the Church are true (poisoning of old Yharnam, give the blood to Cainhurst...). He could be really vile and manipulative character with everything that goes with it. truly an evil characters...

But I prefer to picture him as a more nuanced character. I think he really wanted to help the every life of people. It works for some times before everything went down. He did some mistakes, his ego keep growing and then he realizes too late his mistake. He try to made things right but... it was already too late.

So i'm going with the mostly second one here ^^

When I listened to his theme I can easily picture and imagined all his life and the healing church (like Gherman theme too...). It's a wonderful and amazing tracks... So tragic...I can feel the pain he must have feel before turning into a beast. Full of regret...

I did a bunch of designs. An evolution through the years (like the Gehrman ones X). But if I had to choose only 1 representation.

That would be this one :

Yeah I know what you might think. "Doesn't he looks a bit like the messiah of the Ch/ristians ?! Aka J-e-s-u-s C-h-r-i-s-t"

I'm sorry, but with all the religious symbolism in Bloodborne I can only pictured him looking a bit similar to some religious figures really easily... that's the vibe that he gives me... And I think it suits him.

Now headcanons ! (But more based from my story) :

So let's begin with a "funny" little thing. See how Cleric beast Laurence dramatically sit ?

When he spend a long time sitting he often tend to sit like this. When he was alone, with people close to him or that he knows well. He reads books like this, fell asleep like this. He just can't sit properly in a chair XD

Laurence is small. Well not really too small, he's about size of our hunter (1.7-1.8 m approximately) but Yharnamites are 2m+ tall so XD. So yes he have a foreigner size. At least one if not both of his parents are foreigners. That's why.

But don't let this lower your guard ! He's really strong. In a bar fight you should be worried about him. He can throw someone bigger than him above the bar...

Because of his smaller corpulence he can get drunk really fast. That's why he created the pungent blood cocktail lmao. Gehrman carry him way to much time on his back because of it. They were not BFF for nothing!

After the healing church was found/ gain autonomy he got a horse. A little white horse (still didn’t decided of a name yet..I thought something in Latin…). The horse have a normal size but for a Yharnamite it’s small XD. I did draw smt about it but it’s not really good & I can’t had more pics so… just imagine Laurence on his horse, beside him, on one side you have Maria, on the other you have Gehrman. Both on bigger black horses, like the ones that take us to Cainhurst XD

Student/ teacher Laurence at Byrgenwerth

He's a man of science and religion. He has a doctorate (or some kind of diploma) but is also kind of a priest too.

He was raised in Byrgenwerth. He saw Willem as some kind of father figure I think. That's where he basically almost meet everyone. (Everybody from the old hunter era : Maria, Brador, Caryll, Ludwig? Micolash, Rom, The hunters...& obliviously Gehrman ).

So here you have a really young Laurence. When he was a student (left). And then he became a teacher at Byrgenwerth before founding the Healing Church. He teach a few classes (bio, medicine, theology...) He really care for his students and try his best to help them overcome difficulties and give them the best conditions he could.

+3rd wheel Laurence XD (I do have a crappy lil sketch with the full characters but I’m not sure if I’m gonna share it… just imagined any characters. Or 2 people talking about their favorite meal, that Laurence dislike 😂

And Vicar Laurence ! Pre & post fishing Hamlet

A lot of people seems to depicted him like this too (left pic). It's just the big vibes he gives to everyone. it just makes sense. Look at this charismatic leader.

((He didn't became Vicar right after the foundation of the healing Church. Religion wasn't the big influence we know the healing church have. An old high priest was in charge of Yharnam. After the church gain in power & influence. The Bishop of the region? appointed him Vicar).

He got the scar on his eyebrow at the Hamlet...

(Actually the Research hall incident may have happened between this two designs (I can't decide...)

Also here is a really tired Laurence :

Being a Vicar is not an easy job…

The guardian of the Astral Clocktower, your friend is dead.

Because of this, the research hall is a mess. All the patients are either dead, dying or have gone mad and try to hurt people.

Your best friend has become an emotional mess. The recent events seems to have deeply affect him. He doesn’t have control over the others hunters anymore. Some seems do be drunk and attack everything.

The beast scourge is still growing, night after night. People are scared and asking more questions.

And the relationship between the Church and Cainhurst is deteriorating…

Yes he got founding from Cainhurst too at the beginning of the church. There was a time when they were allies. He didn't imagined they would stole the forbidden blood and use it for their own egoist interest...have secrets concerning the tombs... even abandonned their own sometimes... begin to kill people... So why not play along with it. Why not use them & see how they try to reach evolution... And then take everything from them.

Older Laurence : Pre and Post beckon of the Moon Presence

Thanks to the blood he aged really good. Until they try to summon MP… he looks like a half transformed beast sometimes. He even loose some teeths (his human skull in the nightmare is missing quite a few).

So I believed the MP beckoning went terribly wrong… people dies, get turn into beasts… the Blood Moon isn’t really the best of thing…. He got a bigger scar + bandages because of this. And see how his beast skull got a huge cracks…

« He wanted me to give him eyes on the inside » says Flora, « I gave him what he wanted ».

G : « You rip his skull open to put eyes directly in it ! »

« Yes, that’s how everyone do it »

About beast / cleric beast Laurence

I do believe in the Bloodletting beast = Laurence. Or maybe even a mixt of this & his nightmare form. I also think the version we saw in the nightmare is a nightmarish version of him.

Other things

He's obsessed with the Watchdog of the old lords ! He found it so fascinating. After it was defeat, Laurence took sample of blood from it to try to study the creature and how it could be in fire. He even inject himself blood from the fire beast... (So he could trow fire in his beast form after being burn by molotov yeah).

Yeah...he has some issues with fire... Old...Yharnam...HM...

He's obsessed with the Old Blood too if it's not obvious...

I also believed he took weapons to fight beast/ fight in the dungeon sometimes. Either with the church pick, the blood letter or a beast built thanks to the beast embrace rune. (Or all 3 at the same time).

Last little thing

I headcanon that this guy, the nightmare executioner who’s guarding the grand cathedral in the nightmare was Laurence bodyguard too. (But you already know that. More here & here)

[juni-ravenhall]

*cackles* OC ASK GAME! 3, 5, 9, 16, 21, 28, 30, 31, 42 (apples-stables) :3

thamk u <33333

3 Are they superstitious?

juni is at first that type who doesn't really believe in magic/religion things from a rational perspective but also finds value in rituals, as an emotional good luck charm type of thing. (but after she starts experiencing stuff relating to magic and pandoria, she readjusts quickly to accept that new reality, or unreality...)

juni's brother doesn't understand human stuff like this, at least not for a long time from after his rescue from pandoria.

5 What’s their sexuality/romantic orientation?

juni is pan, she's attracted to ppl based on their individuality with no regard to gender/etc. she's a bit of a romantic and probably had several small crushes throughout her life so far but no proper romances yet.

juni's brother is probably pan and demi (not a romantic person the way juni is but could experience the same feelings with specific ppl), after he heals enough to experience more feelings and stuff at all.

9 Where are they from originally?

they were born in valedale. but they don't have real memories of it since The Events happened when they were very small, so juni's brother only knows pandoria and juni grew up on south hoof (adopted by the hightower family). still both of them feel a familiarity with valedale when they're there, as if it's also home somehow.

16 Are they related to anyone in Jorvik?

biologically it's their parents (dead) and mayhaps some secret stuff beyond that. juni has her adopted family on south hoof.

21 What’s their favorite pastime?

for juni it's just doing random things, enjoying life whether it's resting or working. she likes reading and doing creative stuff, hanging out appreciating the sea breeze on south hoof, going on trail rides (whether for fun or working with the rangers), or eating cake at a café with friends, really anything. if she has a lazy and alone day she's probably reading old books in a cozy place somewhere, or hanging out in the sun outside with Winterborn.

juni's brother spends all his time being confused and suffering. he wanders off without saying anything to stare at things or dissociate.

28 What’s some stereotypical popular things that they like/secretly like? (i.e. Pumpkin Spice Lattes, scrunchies, etc)

juni isn't ashamed of liking anything so probably a lot of stuff, she just likes what she likes no matter if it's niche and weird or really popular. im not rly knowledgeable about whats popular jdfhkg but i think her taste in food is probably the most basic and might be embarrassing to others. she loves sweet stuff and sort of simple foods more than fancy Adult(tm) food. if you bought her some fancy restaurant dinner she'd be fine and appreciate it, but she'd prefer eating homemade sandwiches on a picnic or a strawberry milkshake at a cafe. i think she would prob drink pumpkin spice lattes a lot if it was trending, she's excited to try new snacks. but yeah i think just with anything at all she likes both popular and unpopular things without worries.

juni's brother doesn't care now, but if he had grown up in normal circumstances he would prob have been a bit more selfconscious about stuff like this than juni is.

30 How did they react when they first met a horse in real life?

for juni, she grew up on south hoof with a lot of farm animals and horses around so she's always known them, but basically she just feels a special bond to horses, like there's just something different about them (especially after she met Winterborn) even tho she also likes a lot of other animals. she probably waved at horses as a baby and wanted to poke their faces.

for juni's brother he wouldn't think anything of horses when he meets them after being rescued to jorvik, he would look at humans and animals and everything the same distant way. but there might be a horse he reacts differently to.

31 Who did they first meet in Jorvik? (if it was their parents, who next?)

the first people juni remember is her adoptive family, but technically the druids in valedale met her first after she was abandoned. she met the hermit as the first person outside the hightowers. as she grows up she just starts meeting tons of ppl and helping ppl all over (just like mc in the game).

juni's brother hasn't seen any humans after their parents until juni rescues him. the druids, elizabeth help with the rescue and are the first other ppl he meets. another of the first ones is gf's character yasmine.

42 What’s their favorite childhood memory?

for juni, starting to help out at the rescue ranch as an older kid / young teen was a big deal, and she has a close bond with hugh as an uncle and friend. there was probably some specific moment with hugh that was a big deal to her in growing up and choosing her path in life, but i dont know exactly what rn. other than that her memory of meeting Winterborn as a rescue foal is really important to her and significant for who she is.

for juni's brother, he obvs doesn't have normal memories due to being just sort of in limbo in pandoria his whole life, but i think in both of them there is a sort of vague memory of existing together as newborns, that would be the closest thing he has to a regular memory.

[coccolithophore]

what are your favorite dnd moments?

OH MAN I HAVE A LOT TO SAY gonna put under a cut

i think i have too many in mind so for now i'll just do one for each of the primary characters i've played 

solvin was "dead" in lasha's backstory and our dm luna revealed that he survived and was a tyrannical pirate who was murdering clerics in revenge for their shitty childhood. and i kinda figured out it was him from the rumors we were hearing but when we finally got into his castle i got to roleplay his reunion with lasha and he was scary and evil and everyone else was terrified but lasha just felt so tender towards him and all she could see was her little brother who she gave up everything for and lost him anyway 🥺 he's a terrible person but not to her. also he still was kind to her and it killed me. there was this small moment where one of my party members tried to roll insight and our dm said "it's impossible to read his expression, his face is like a mask" and then lasha tried insight too and rolled like shit but luna messaged me privately saying "lasha can read him easily, it's very clear that he's feeling......." GAH character momence

there was this creepy cult in the beyond that was kind of supposed to be like the morm*n church version of the sun religion that him worships and him got kidnapped by the priestess by being too trusting... and our dm revealed that all of the priests were changelings brainwashing people and so she gave me a stat sheet for a changeling and i got to spend a whole session roleplaying a villain who was trying to roleplay as MY OWN CHARACTER based on a very shallow understanding of his personality with the goal of betraying my party skldjf it was such a fun challenge and then there was this incredible reveal where "him" got one of his party members alone and then stabbed her in the stomach with a poison knife and then luna took back over and described him transforming back into a changeling klsjfd epic dnd moments

not dnd but honestly this exchange i drew from our blades in the dark campaign was a pretty faithful representation of something that went down and it kills me every time i think about it. it's a great example of how fun it is to play with friends who are equally invested in all of our characters and the dynamic between them and can have these spontaneous exchanges, whether goofing around or actually serious. love those nerds

[thoughtsofchamomile]

Understanding Love

First of all, this is not about KathNiel’s breakup, although I am really affected by it too.

Even when I was younger, I often hear the statement, “love is not enough”. I believed it too, but I didn’t understand it back then.

I always believed how strong and powerful love is. Because it pushes you to do things you never imagined yourself doing. Love is a noun and a verb. It is also an adjective because God is love. Love is a glue that binds everyone together, and at the same time a fire that destroys everything in a small amount of time.

Love is so powerful that it could even kill you.

But love could change you. It could bring either the best or the worst out of you.

They say love is blind. Because when you are in love all you see is the good things in the person, in or out. We tend to disregard the toxic behaviors of the person we love. Sometimes, their physical appearance as well.

I craved for a love that is a complete opposite of what I see in my parents.

I used to think that the most visible expression of love is the act of kindness and goodness. I also believe, until now, that the most important thing in a person is the heart. It’s being good (well, next to love because I do not believe there is goodness in the absence of love. When we love, everything follows).

Nothing is better than being good to people.

So I always taught myself that in looking for a partner, I should never look for wealth, but for heart alone. Because money can be earned anytime. I was not sent to a good school to be a housewife one day. I am proud I am not a gold digger, and was sure that I can earn my own money.

So it happened.

Reuben and I were together for more than four years. We were together in my entire college years.He is a good man, and I’m proud he is. He loves me very much. He is faithful. Most importantly, he is a Christian… But only in religion. He is jobless, and he just got back to school last three years. He is not rich.

At first, I thought it’s fine.

I understand he has no money and I appreciate his small gifts every occasion, although not consistently, but I appreciate. If he can make an effort to give me gifts even he has nothing, what more could he give when he has something? Ever since when we go out, I spent all the time, and it’s fine. During the pandemic, I didn’t really need the money, though I have a little. And I did appreciate how he stayed by my side even at the lowest point of my life when I struggled with depression and anxiety, and always wanted to die.

He was with me. When I thought nobody was, he is. Even we don’t see each other all the time, he is there. And I appreciated.

But then eventually, a lot of things happened, a lot had changed. My needs have changed. I need his presence more than everything else. I even offered to spend for everything, just so he can suffice my needs. It worked, but not very well. He started to treat me differently. He started making excuses all the time. He could not prioritize me anymore. He always got reasons. He is often irritated, then be sorry later on. At some point, he is not him anymore, he is not the person I used to love before. He’ll be sorry but manipulate things, gives lame reasons and often reprimands me. He started invalidating my feelings.

We broke up and get back again all the time. Because he could not keep his promises. He is not a man of his word. Nor a provider or a leader or a man I used to know.

I was not blinded by his red flags, I know I didn’t deserve it. And in return, even I remained as sweet as candy, my heart turned cold. I always find fault in him. I count his wrongs, unintentionally, because I tried not to make a big deal about it, but a small move creates a huge impact when piled up.

This is how I understand why love is not enough.

A relationship built with love is a good seed, but with not enough water and sunlight, it could not grow.

A relationship is like a plant, it has its own needs (good soil, water, and sunlight) to be sustained constantly. A relationship does not circle in love alone. It should always have trust, respect, and everything each person needs. People have desires other than love. The persons who belong to a relationship should acknowledge and honor these needs. And most importantly, a relationship needs God to fix each other’s fault. He will cut your withered leaves and watch over you. A God-centered relationship is something I used to dream. And I thought having a born again boyfriend is the answer, but no. A religion of person does not define true Christianity.

So I realize now, with all that been said, that love can really be enough to sustain a relationship because God is love. And we should surrender it all to Him. On the other hand, his graciousness and perfect will was enough indeed for this world, but the world did not accept Him. He is enough, but people chose something else.

In other words, I could say that love is enough. But it should be accompanied by actions.

Being good is also enough. But we can argue that people don’t stop being good while giving into temptations at the same time, because you are not defined but your mistakes. It is true. But this world is completely different from the ways of God. You see, being a good Christian means to be firm to not fall for sin. But all Christians sin every single day. It’s not fine, but God understands that humans are weak, that’s why His grace is sufficient for us, because His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Corinthians 12).

It is impossible to live a life without God. Because God created life. He is life.

Therefore, when we feel that love is not enough, we should start assessing ourselves: “did I ever seek God’s will over mine?” If not, then we should pray harder! Repent and seek His will. Just think about every single move you make. It might go against the will of God without you realizing it.

We also have to understand that no relationship is perfect for us humans, we always have to seek God.

No person could ever comprehend the goodness of God, and His peace despite of imperfections.

Well, not all relationships are for a lifetime. Sometimes, it is also God’s will for us to love somebody but don’t end up with them. It is part of God’s plan for our progress and growth. And it is not a waste of time. And it definitely does not mean that love is not enough.

Be dependent on God.

[hallelujahonmytongue]

Had some good religion-adjacent realisations today when I went for a walk cause I was going crazy stuck in my room. I feel like it’s easy for me to stay in my room because I get home so wiped from work, and I think of resting as being in bed and I also think of my silly little walk for my silly little mental health as being just getting outside, which I do on the way to work, rather than being for time away from needing to do stuff and being with nature and the like.

But I went to the pond near my house, it’s like kind of nature-y but it’s a nice ten minute walk I’ve done a bunch of times. The pond is pretty, I was really wigging out from sadness and loneliness from missing my partner and anger at my mum for messing me up so bad (I journalled the other day and had some realisations about attachment styles and why I’ve been struggling a lot in my relationship recently). I felt like I was feeling such overwhelming pain in my small body and soul.

But then I was able to self regulate really well, because I realised that I need to create a sense of self that is separate to my relationships with other people. I was so lonely for so long that now that I have so many fulfilling close relationships, I forget I have parts of me that only I know and only I need to nurture by spending my alone time doing something other than consuming media to avoid a thought occurring. I wrote down a list of things that make me feel I’m treating myself and doing something just for me, mostly going out for meals on my own or getting a fancy drink or making a cup of tea or reading a book. Basically mostly monetary things but things that I would do for someone I really liked, things that are extra care that show me I value myself. It was just refreshing in general to acknowledge that I’ve lost myself in other people a bit recently, and that ties back to the attachment style stuff.

Secondly, I’ve been massively freaked out about religion type stuff since my friend told me God is waiting for me after I started crying over how much I missed God and how much I missed praying to Them. (I don’t hold it against my friend, it was actually a super sweet thing of him to say and he meant it in the best way possible, it was just totally the wrong thing to say to me, unbeknownst to him.) It shook my whole “I don’t believe in God anymore because I can’t risk getting my heart broken again” thing, which was honestly more of a just “repeat that whenever I think about it and avoid processing the trauma of losing my faith”. I felt so conflicted all over again, I would pray and love praying and go to church and love that too but then hate myself and be confused and be angry at God all over again.

Today I realised that I am tired of living in that loop. Yes, I could be religious and accept that my life will be defined by my struggle with God, or at least inextricably intertwined with it and it will take up most of my brain space. Or, and this is what I decided, I can heed the promise I made to myself when I was overwhelmed with the pain of losing my faith the first time, and I swore I’d never believe again because I knew I wouldn’t survive the pain a second time.

I could just let it go, accept the pain of missing God and missing religion but also know I can miss something and not want it back because I know it’s not good for me. I need to just cut myself off from all the religious social media and my need to go to church even when it’s hard to do that because it’s so much healthier for me to live my life in accordance with my values of logic and evidenced based belief. It’s just so freeing and calm for the two parts of me to not be at war constantly. I know some of you will want to disagree with me and you’ll say one can have faith without that, but I never could and believe me, I tried.

As soon as I admitted that, the deepest sense of calm passed over me and I realised that I can achieve the sense of peace I get at church by listening to my own Wise Mind, to use DBT terminology. I am the one who loves me no matter what, and I am the one who waits for myself to acknowledge I will always be here and I will always be on my own side. I don’t need God for that because I can self regulate on my own, and I can thereby avoid the horrible conflicts within my brain.

[jdgo51]

The Wisdom of Firsts

Today's inspiration comes from:

The Little Red Book of Wisdom

by Mark DeMoss

The First Hour, the First Day, the First Dime

"I feel it is far better to begin with God, to see His face first, to get my soul near Him before it is near another." ~ E. M. Bounds

"'My father was the most successful man I ever knew. Unrelated to how I viewed him, his genius in direct-response marketing of individual life and health insurance formed the National Liberty Corporation, with its five companies and subsidiaries. The little business that started at the kitchen table, by the time of his death twenty years later, was the largest mass marketer of individual life and health insurance in the world.

To what did my father attribute his success? Enough people must have asked him that he committed it to paper in a booklet he titled God’s Secret of Success. Since his death, that vest-pocket treatise, long out of print, has played large in lives around the world. If I were to give you its contents right here, you might say: “That’s it?” But if you were to practice the points, to weave them into your life, eventually you’d be amazed that they had ever seemed small.

The First Hour of the Day

Art DeMoss believed the gate to success swung open first thing in the morning, in the day’s uncluttered hour, when he talked with God in prayer and listened to God as he read the Bible. Some people will give this tip a double take. The head of a booming corporation didn’t check in first on morning news? In those days that was the newspaper, but my father didn’t take it. Maybe TV while he got dressed? Nope. No TV set in the DeMoss home. What about the stock market, just a glance? No, again. Because as sure as he brushed his teeth and ate breakfast,

Dad started his day with God. “It should be our rule never to see the face of men before first seeing the face of God,” said Charles Spurgeon, the great nineteenth-century British preacher. Only a fool would fail to post a guard on the gate of the day. “The morning watch anchors the soul so that it will not very readily drift far away from God during the day,” he wrote. “He who rushes from his bed to his business without first spending time with God is as foolish as though he had not washed or dressed, and as unwise as one dashing to battle without arms or armor.”1

Dad died more than forty years ago, but to this day one of my clearest memories of him is his morning routine. By example he paved the path to my similar habit now, though I admit to less than a full hour each day.

If you’re thinking you could just as easily spend time alone with God in the noon hour, you’re right, you could — unless something else comes up. You could do it in the evening before bed, assuming you still have energy and focus. You could hope to steal a few moments throughout the day. We can all hope for a lot of things. But nothing sets the day like matching our best hour to our deepest and dearest Resource. Spending our first moments with our Creator is more practical than legalistic. It’s the only time we can truly protect. When that time is hectic with children or work or similar busyness, we can set an alarm a little bit ahead. I’m convinced the person who does this has an advantage over those who don’t.

The First Day of the Week

Besides the first hour of the day, my father gave God the first day of the week. Now that we blur Sunday with Saturday or any other workday, respect for the Sabbath seems, well, extreme, dated, obsolete. And it may be. If hours in the day are no more than measurable productivity units, then one of the world’s richest men is right. “Just in terms of allocation of time resources, religion is not very efficient,” Bill Gates says. “There is a lot more I could be doing on a Sunday morning.”2

The lengths of the wording of the individual Ten Commandments intrigues me. Most are brief — four to ten words. “You shall not kill.” “You shall not lie,” and so on. Then comes the ninety-four-word instruction to keep the Sabbath day holy. Who can say that God devoted more words to the fourth commandment for emphasis, but who can deny that a day of rest hits reset on our minds, bodies, work, and personal relationships?

Nothing sets the day like matching our best hour to our deepest and dearest Resource.

Chick-fil-A founder Truett Cathy was a Sabbath keeper. If you’re a patron of the wildly popular restaurants he founded, you know that come Sunday you get your chicken somewhere else. Come Sunday, every one of the twenty-nine hundred Chick-fil-As in forty-eight states is shut tight, potentially costing the family-owned business more than $3 billion a year. If you’d asked Mr. Cathy why, he’d have turned to the subject of devotion. “Closing our business on the Lord’s Day is our way of honoring God and showing loyalty to Him,” he’d say. “My brother Ben and I closed our first restaurant on the first Sunday after we opened in 1946, and my children have committed to closing our restaurants on Sundays long after I’m gone.”

My Sundays are hardly one sustained act of prayer and meditation, but neither are they a checklist of paying bills, work, emails, or prep for Monday. Sundays tend to be slower and quieter — good days to work on this book, but I didn’t. I try not to travel on Sundays, but when I’m out of town on the first day of the week, regardless of how little sleep I got the night before, I want to be in church and otherwise do as little as possible. In my life, at least, Sunday rest correlates to weekday productivity.

Plenty of people have to work on Sundays. Nurses, pilots, hotel workers, cooks, waiters, public-safety workers, to name a few. Dad wrote, and I write, to those of us who can set the Sabbath aside but don’t. As for what constitutes work on a Sunday, I came across a pretty simple definition: Decide what’s work for you, and don’t do it.

“Hurry,” said philosopher Dallas Willard, “is the great enemy of spiritual life.”3 God Himself offers promises for those who honor “His Day”:

If you watch your step on the Sabbath and don’t use my holy day for personal advantage, if you treat the Sabbath as a day of joy, God’s holy day as a celebration, if you honor it by refusing ‘business as usual,’ making money, running here and there—then you’ll be free to enjoy God! Oh, I’ll make you ride high and soar above it all. I’ll make you feast on the inheritance of your ancestor Jacob. Yes! God says so! — Isaiah 58:13–14 The Message

The First Dime of Every Dollar

Now for the success secret so personal and so often misapplied that some of my readers may consider it in poor taste to bring up: My father gave the first part of every dollar to God. The concept, also known as tithing, was not invented by modern televangelists. It is at least as old as the early Old Testament. Jesus endorsed it as an act of love, and certainly a gift of our resources is a regular and potent reminder of the Source of all we have.

Honor the Lord with your wealth, with the firstfruits of all your crops, King Solomon advised. Then your barns will be filled to overflowing, and your vats will brim over with new wine. — Proverbs 3:9–10 NIV

For whatever reason, even most churchgoers overlook or outright avoid this wise principle. Evangelical giving these days averages 3.2 percent of their income — less than the percentage in 1933, during the Great Depression. Last year one in five churchgoers gave nothing at all. And then there’s John D. Rockefeller, the Standard Oil founder who died in 1937 having given away today’s equivalent of ten billion dollars. Of course, you say, Rockefeller was one of the richest men of all time. But his giving started when every penny counted:

I had to begin work as a small boy to support my mother. My first wages amounted to $1.50 per week. The first week after I went to work, I took the $1.50 home to my mother. She held it in her lap and explained to me that she would be happy if I would give a tenth of it to the Lord. I did, and from that week until this day, I have tithed every dollar God has entrusted to me. And I want to say that if I had not tithed the first dollar I made, I would not have tithed the first million dollars I made.4

There’s George Jenkins — “Mr. George” to Publix Supermarket employees — who lived from 1907 to 1996. The employee-owned, privately held corporation he founded currently sells $48 billion in its thirteen hundred stores. In his final interview, a reporter asked him what he thought he’d be worth if he hadn’t given so much away. Mr. George said, “Probably nothing.”5

No giver can outgive God. We’re told to bring our tithes into the storehouse, followed by,

‘Test Me in this,’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of Heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it’. — Malachi 3:10 NIV

It’s true we don’t “give to get.” It’s also true that God says He will give when we do.

My father’s respect for giving sailed well beyond his days. In his will he directed the vast majority of his assets and holdings to a charitable foundation dedicated to telling others the good news of God’s love, a decision I never questioned or resented.

In his little booklet, God’s Secret of Success, Dad urges us to put God first in our habits and first in our homes. Success is a byproduct of first things getting top priority, he says over and over, a truth you can’t know until you try.

So try it. First for a morning, then every morning for a week, and every week for a year. Observe the Sabbath. Give the first of everything you receive and everything you are. See if you don’t also have the secret of success."'

Charles H. Spurgeon, Psalm 119:147, The Treasury of David (London: Passmore and Alabaster, 1884–86). 199 Bill Gates, TIME magazine, January 13, 1997. Recounted in John Ortberg, The Life You’ve Always Wanted (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2015). Ron Chernow, Titan: The Life of John D . Rockefeller Sr . (New York: Vintage Books, 2004). George Jenkins, “Lessons from Our Founder: Give Back,” Publix. Excerpted with permission from The Little Red Book of Wisdom by Mark DeMoss, copyright Mark DeMoss.

[espressokiri]

Hi there. Another Muslimah here.

Hope you don't mind me sending you an ask. I read your fic about the BNHA boys with a muslim s/o. It was really good. I loved it so much. (There aren't many fics like this, which is a shame cause we like fanfics too. So this was very refreshing. Thank you.💚😉)

Could you do one for the Haikyuu boys, specifically Tsukishima, Kuroo, Sugawara, and Bokuto. But only if you want to, of course.

Hope you have a great and productive day.

Tsukishima Kei, Kuroo Tetsurou, Sugawara Koushi, and Bokuto Koutarou x Hijabi!reader

In which reader is a hijabi Muslim.

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Notes: You're welcome to send asks anytime <3 I may be slow at getting through them but I will make sure to get them out! Thank you for being so sweet anon <3 I hope you enjoy this one! ^^ I’m sorry if it seems bland as I was slowly losing ideas.

Tsukishima Kei

His eyes would constantly drift to you during class hours, lips twitching into a smile as he would watch you struggle with the assignment sheet given during history class.

Would take that as a leeway to make conversation and help you out.

"Tsk, can't even do a simple history assignment?"

Just sits down next to you and points out what you did wrong while helping you out.

Flinches his hand away and mutters a sorry if your hands accidentally graze each others.

He knows how strict the dating rules were and he admired it, thinking it was a safe way to keep them away from harm and heartbreak.

Becomes your unofficial tutor just to spend more time with you.

Has the urge to flick your forehead most times when you purposely tease him.

Is worried when he sees you zoning out in the middle of class during Ramadan, you have to convince him you're fine and that you're getting your studying done despite the odd sleep schedule you've created.

He'll give you a small box of his favourite treat, strawberry short cake, randomly throughout Ramadan because he knows you crave more sweets during the days you fast than regular days.

He calls you a masochist when he finds you watching cooking/baking videos while fasting.

Will stop by your house to drop off pastries during Eid for you and your family because he wants to peak at you all dressed up as he's only seen you in your school uniform or in casual but modest fashion.

He feels a sense of security, enjoying the aspect of getting to know someone with no sense of rush.

Kuroo Tetsurou

He's such an awkward nerd please.

Wants to approach you but fears he might accidentally offend you due to his provocative nature, hence resorts to staring at you from across the room.

Would research more about your religion and would use that as a way to start small talk;

“Hey, uh, I was wondering how do you manage to pray Zuhr when you’re in school? Isn’t it bad that you have to miss it?”

“Oh uh, I usually run home as soon as I can or pray in my club room if there are meetings, my club members are very understanding.”

“Oh... I see.”

“That’s pretty cool of you to be concerned, Kuroo-san.”

Cue him asking you random but wholesome questions with genuine curiosity.

“Did you know men who oppress women are considered to not follow Islam? I find that really nice that women are equal to men in your religion!”

You smile at him and his interest in your religion.

Study sessions in the library because you both wanted to spend time with each other but he knows it is wrong for a male to be alone in the same room as the opposite gender so you both opted for the library where there are lots of people.

Gasps and immediately looks away when you unravel the scarf around your head to fix;

“Y/n! You can’t do that!!”

“I’m wearing an underscarf calm down.”

You rolled your eyes at the dramatic male but smiled at his respectful nature.

Ramadan? Catch him ruining his sleep schedule just to have movie nights with you through the phone and Netflix Party.

Kenma teases him about it because Kuroo used to yell at him about his own staying up late gaming obsession.

Likes it when you wear a cap on top of your hijab, he thinks it looks cool on you.

He’ll convince you to skip school during Eid if it falls on a school day, telling you that it’s important that you spend at least the first day of it with your family. 

Overall, he’s the type to keep up with the Islamic calendar and learn new facts daily as he asks you to explain each and everything about your religion and lifestyle.

Sugawara Koushi

See’s you for the first time with Kiyoko when he went to excuse her from class for managerial duties.

Smitten from first sight.

Begs Kiyoko to let you be her assistant manager.

He keeps a distance from you during your first introduction and conversation because he didn’t know what you were comfortable with.

He was in awe to find out there were sports hijab when he saw you sporting one to play a short game with an over-enthusiastic Hinata.

“Here, stay hydrated.”

Hands you a bottle of water along with a towel, a newfound respect for playing in hot weather conditions fully covered. 

Due to the chaotic nature of the first and second years, Sugawara would run to cover your eyes with his jacket or hover his hands in front of your face whenever Tanaka would rip off his shirt to swing around whenever he spiked.

Sugawara had to stop himself multiple times from clapping his hand onto your shoulder, resulting in him just smacking either Asahi or Daichi when they mention him almost touching you.

Outings between you two is always monitored by the third years, Asahi smiling proudly at his friend Suga while Daichi and Kiyoko would sneakily take candid pictures of you both.

“What’s one verse you hold dear to your heart?”

You look at him from the warm mug of drink you are holding, tilting your head as you look at him in confusion. Sugawara felt the tips of his ears go red at the cute expression you held, and explains his question.

“Ah,” you thought long and hard before giving him an answer, “ ‘Allah does not burden a soul beyond that it can bear...’ I find that part of the verse very reassuring in times when I feel like I’m overwhelmed.”

Sugawara held onto every word, finding the beauty behind those words, he felt at peace. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He smiles.

It felt like he was more excited than you for Ramadan.

He would read out loud the Japanese translation of the Quran after you read out the Arabic words in a beautiful and soothing voice. He wanted to understand and learn.

He was hooked onto the peaceful energy the month brought despite life going on normally.

This man would wear a formal Kimono when your family invites his over for Eid, he wanted to make the best impression despite already meeting them in passing.

Suga had a sense of security and comfort around him and you felt lucky to have met someone such as him.

Bokuto Koutarou 

Oh God.

Akaashi had a field day trying to stop him from initiating any and every kind of physical affection when he first introduced you to him.

Bokuto is a man who expresses himself with affection, so he was lucky for Akaashi to explain to him why he shouldn’t initiate any physical affection without asking for what you considered crossing a boundary.

He knows he can’t drag you to the gym to watch him play volleyball by hand, so he asks you to hold onto the end of a pen, which you took, confused as to what the male exactly wants before realizing he was holding the other end and using that to drag you to where the gym was.

It was oddly endearing.

“Did you see my spike, Y/n?! Didya see?!”

“Yes, Bokuto. It was really cool!”

Cue a chest puffed up Bokuto who grinned with pride.

Invites you to eat lunch with him and Akaashi on the roof.

Having to refuse his food because you weren’t sure if there was pork in it or not.

This made Bokuto stop bringing in food that contained pork, not knowing even aside from that, he had to have the halal form of chicken or beef.

Akaashi had to explain everything to him when he asked him once.

Tried to go vegetarian one day, failed the minute he took a bite out of his food.

Feels bad when he eats on days you are fasting, so he tries finishing the meal before you come up to their usual meeting spot, resulting in him giving himself a stomach ache.

Brings you tuna filled onigiri to take home so you can eat it as a snack during the night after breaking your fast.

Sends you spam messages minutes before having to break your fast;

‘Are you excited to eat?!?!?!’

‘What are you having today?!?’

‘If you want to get any snacks later let me know! :D’

‘ONE MINUTE LEFT!!’

He’s so wholesome please.

Wants to skip school with you for Eid, but pouts when you tell him you’ll be spending it with family.

Asks you to send an OOTD pic so he could be your hype-man.

Bokuto is always willing to understand more about you and your religion, making sure to note things in his head for future references.

[xiaq]

That’s so cute that you’re dating your friend! ☺️ I’m curious though, how did that transition happen? Did you go from platonic friends to dating or was it like a flirty, I’ve always liked them as more than friends to dating? How does one even start that conversation to tell their friend that they like like them

What started as a quick answer has now turned into a small novel with a whole lot of sappy drivel at the end. So uh. Enjoy.

Once upon a time, X moved to Dallas, but dearly missed her rock climbing friends back in Austin. So every other month or so, she’d go back for a long weekend visit and climb. B was one of her climbing friends over the years she spent in grad school. She had a low-key crush on him because he was a genuinely good person (climbing with someone tells you a lot about how they handle physical challenges as well as the full spectrum of human emotion), but she didn’t think he had the slightest interest in her. When the pandemic hit, she moved back to Austin to finish grad school remotely. Due to the pandemic, she had a small group of friends who more or less isolated together; she and B started spending more time together— climbing, hiking, game nights, and playing D&D (you also learn a lot about a person through a campaign!), and generally hanging out and talking. She might have actually Attempted (likely terrible) Flirting was it not for her imminent move to Colorado.

They stayed in contact during the year that X was in CO, and after the relatively disastrous end to the nearly 5-month relationship she had while in CO, B gave her an A+ hug her upon her return to Austin over Christmas break. He also was extra nice to her during D&D despite the fact that their characters were usually fighting (She played a chaotic neutral thief-turned-bard. He played a lawful good ranger). He (and all of her climbing/D&D friends) (with varying levels of tact) did their best to cheer her up post-breakup and it was very sweet.

They started texting a bit more once she returned to CO, and he visited (with one of their other climbing friends) before she moved back to Austin. She still didn’t think he was interested, and after her prior relationship, she wasn’t interested in dating anyway (she actually said to her BFF, K, at that point, that she wasn’t going to date anymore and it was a relief to stop caring about what other people thought about her/expected of her. She cut off her hair and dyed it purple and told her dog it’d just be them from there on out)

Except, once she moved back to Austin, she was spending an awful lot of time at B’s place. At the end of a climb, he’d invite over for dinner, or to swim at Barton Springs. And then there weren’t even climbs involved and he was inviting her to play pickleball or watch hockey playoffs. It was a lot of time. Like, a lot. More than she was usually comfortable spending with someone because she liked her alone time and very quickly got “peopled-out” and needed to recharge by herself (preferably with a book). Except she didn’t get tired of spending time with him. But aside from hugs goodbye that tended to linger, she still didn’t get any indication from him that he was interested in a romantic relationship (ok, laying it out like this, I do feel a little dense, now).

Finally, after dinner one night, he carefully told her that he was interested in making their relationship a romantic one. X was conflicted. She’d liked him for a long time in that abstract it’ll-never-happen-so-it’s-ok-if-I’m-a-little-infatuated way and realizing that it COULD happen was pretty damn scary. Especially because she had some…not healthy expectations about what a relationship would entail, at that point. She laid out her concerns (tried to talk him out of it), and he validated those concerns while also telling her exactly how he’d like to approach them while pursuing a relationship. She was too selfish to say no. Because over the years she’d seen him in all sorts of situations and she’d talked to him about everything from religion and politics to moral/ethical dilemmas to the inadequacies of the film adaptations of the Marvel universe. And he'd seen her in all those same situations and apparently still liked her even when she was at her sweatiest, grumpiest, sleep-deprived worst, so she had a whole lot of evidence that they were compatible. Also, she really wanted to kiss the freckles on his nose and that’s not really a friend-sanctioned activity.

A month in, she was pretty sure she was in love with him.

Two months in, she was definitely sure.

Three months in, she is the happiest she’s ever been in a relationship. She’d always heard that relationships were work, and they are! Two people negotiating life together will always take work. But she always thought that the simple act of being with someone was also supposed to be work. She’s realized that’s not the case, now.

Because being with B is easy. It’s like having a best friend who you go on adventures with, but then at the end of the day you also get to lay on top of them while you watch the Olympics and they’ll pet you and give you a mohawk and talk about how you’d make a very lovely troli doll, and then you hold hands while taking the dog for a last nighttime walk. And when you get back, you clean the kitchen together and intentionally get in each other’s way so you have to stop to kiss for a bit with soap suds on your hands, and later you shower together without being anxious because you know that when they touch you it’s because they just want to touch you, not because they're going to demand anything else. And you go to bed and they sprawl on top of you like a particularly warm, fond, anchor, and ask you about obscure literary or history facts, or you ask them about places they’ve traveled or favorite memories until your voices are rough and you’re ready to sleep. And in the morning you wake up with your best friend. With your foreheads pressed together and your legs tangled and maybe you have sex, but maybe you don’t and it doesn’t even matter because the important thing is that you get to spend another day together.

Okay, I’m getting off track, here. But that was the transition in a not-so-brief nutshell. And I don’t know how one is supposed to start the conversation, but B started it with, “Have you ever thought about us dating?” Best question I’ve ever been asked, tbh.

10/10 do recommend dating a friend.

[giaourtopita]

oh no i was summoned by a religiously traumatised 17 year old and now i gotta babysit them

i wrote most of this chapter while watching kpop mvs and all i have to say is that the mvs REALLY helped. they kept my brain so stimulated that i couldn't get distracted (for the most part). if you have trouble concentrating maybe try something similar? idk it helped me so i thought i'd share

warnings: religious trauma, isolation/bullying, strict (verbal abusive) parents, angst towards the end.

<previous part

*mc was at school, the bell had just rang but they didn't want to go to the field where p.e. classes were taking place. they were already clowned enough for not agreeing with the teachers and causing fights all the time, they didn't want to be made fun of for their lack of athleticism too.*

*when they finally got there they made up an excuse at the spot and were able to avoid exercise.*

*they went to the back of the school building so they could be in peace on their own. they looked at their grimoire, which they had with them at all times.*

*they looked carefully at the pages, reading small details about the demons satan had told them. before deciding to summon a demon they looked around and were able to find a soccer ball that no one seemed to care about, after that they looked at the snacks they had packed with them and decided they were enough.*

*after doing the spell a tall figure appeared, they were used to seeing all these tall demons but this one was the tallest they've seen so far. he looked intimidating but since satan told them about him they weren't so scared of him.*

*and even if anything happened, both satan and lucifer taught them a few protection spells so they were safe. each of the already summoned brothers told them that they would help.*

*the demon approached them cautiously, not wanting to scare them since he was aware that people found him intimidating due to his height and body mass.*

???: uhm, hi i'm beelzebub. you must be the human that keeps summoning my brothers.

*mc introduced themselves and rushed to get the ball they got a few minutes ago.*

beelzebub: so, why did you summon me? you're at school, shouldn't you be in class right now?

mc: well, right now i am in class. it takes place outdoors and i was convincing enough with my excuse so i'm not participating right now!

beelzebub: well that's not a good thing. do you want to play with that ball?

mc: sure! and i summoned you because, well it's p.e. and from what satan told me you like that stuff. plus, you guys are much more pleasant to spend time with than anyone in this school.

*mc told him while kicking the ball. beel kicks it back while trying to match the power mc used in their kick.*

beelzebub: why is that? humans don't summon demons just to hang out...

mc: well, i don't really get along with the people here, they don't like me and neither do i to be honest. we don't really agree and they make religion sound like it's such a good thing when in reality it's really not. not to mention that a lot of them make me feel uncomfortable with their beliefs.

beelzebub: oh, i see. well, i think it's good thing that you support your opinion so fiercely.

mc: thank you.

*mc said while frowning and kicked the ball using a tiny bit more strength than the last time they kicked.*

mc: wait! don't pass me the ball yet!

*mc ran to their backpack and took out a big packet of biscuits, and signalled beelzebub to come near them.*

*mc took out a few cookies for themselves and gave the rest to the demon.*

mc: here, everyone likes cookies so i got the big packet in case i had someone to share them with.

*the demon sat beside them and before eating he thanked them since was very hungry.*

beelzebub: do you always do that? bringing cookies in case someone wanted to share with you?

mc: well, i don't exactly do it everyday because i know people don't really like me very much but yes sometimes i do bring extra stuff!! did you like the cookies? they're my favourite!

beelzebub: yes, i did! do you want to continue playing?

mc: sure!

*the two continued playing for about fifteen minutes until the weather darkened, mc suggested that beelzebub goes back home because it will probably rain soon.*

*beelzebub said goodbye to them and teleported back to the devildom.*

*mc started walking towards their peers but since they were pretty far away from them, it suddenly started raining heavily. they managed to get inside but they were already soaked.*

*once they got into the classroom, the rest of the students started loughing at them for being soaked. they couldn't think of a reason why people were making fun of them, this could have happened to anyone, mc thought while trying to hold back their tears.*

*they were used to not being liked but this, this was a little excessive. mc packed their school bag and rushed to the principal's office so they could call their parents and go home.*

*when their father got there and mc entered the car, he lost it. he started yelling at them, calling them stupid for staying outside and getting soaked. he started complaining about how he shouldn't have come to pick them up and how they made him seem unprofessional at work and then he started talking about how he was a good parent for coming to get them.*

*they finally got dropped off in front of the their house, their father immediately left and mc was alone again. at least no one will yell at me now, they thought.*

next part >

[crastledivorce]

@petrichormeraki 

I made some characters for bbau awhile back (with some input from @rose-icosahedron and I just realized I never made an actual post about them so here it is :)

First up is Sunset. She’s the child of Lizzie and Cleo, made through cloning some time during Last Life. Her moms had a messy breakup (I feel like in LL burning down someone’s base is kinda the equivalent of keying someone’s car) so she spent her childhood bouncing between Empires and Hermitcraft. Since e!Lizzie is her mom, that makes her the crown princess of the Ocean Empire (I did specifically imagine her as Lizzie’s oldest child, sorry if this conflicts w anyone else), so she spent more time there. Sunset is cheerful, curious, and loves nature. She spends a lot of time hiking. She’s self-confident and independent, which is great, but can also be overly stubborn and unwilling to compromise. Sunset can enjoy socializing but values her alone time. If she does not get enough hours of alone a day she will bite. 

Family relationships-wise, she doesn’t always get along with Lizzie. She feels uninterested in the responsibilities of ruling the Ocean Empire, feels pressure to do so, and feels like Lizzie doesn’t make enough effort to connect with her over her own interests. At the end of the day they do still have a loving mother-daughter relationship though, I think they’d mostly resolve their issues around when Sunset is 18. Since Joel and Lizzie are married, he also raised her so she considers him a father. Gee, Sunset, why do you get three parents? And also Jeremy too but. Not much to say there. They banter a lot. Sunset is always really excited to get to see Cleo, since she doesn’t get to see her other mom as much due to the different servers. Sometimes she feels a bit jealous of Cleo’s other kids. When Sunset was 11 Cleo got her a hat shaped like a spider and she wore it nonstop for months. 

Her name comes from her hair, it’s literally red, with some shades of orange and pink. She has some of Lizzie’s axolotl features. Small arm fins, gills, and a tail. She was more axolotl-y when she was younger, she also had leg fins and webbed feet, but those disappeared by the time she was a teenager. Sorry Sunset. Puberty sucks, and you are only half-axolotl hybrid. Sunset is 5′6, average height, but considering that Lizzie is 10 feet and I hc Cleo as like, 6′something, she feels extremely cheated. Understandable lol. She likes practical, comfortable clothing, bright colors, and has a large collection of silly barrettes to keep her hair out of her eyes. 

She has trouble connecting to people, because she doesn’t quite understand socializing, but can get very excited and loyal around people she likes. And it isn’t too hard to get her to like you. Just ask about her interests and respect her alone time when she needs it. I have some thoughts on what she’d be like older/younger but mostly I imagine her in her preteen/early teens ish.

I have some ideas for how she’d get along with her friends/siblings but this is already long enough. If anyone wants to talk to me about making our ocs be friends, please do! (this feels like I’m setting up a playdate /pos). 

My other fanchild is Jeremy. I will admit I do not know as much about him. He was also created during Last Life, and is the child of Joel and Scar. They weren’t dating or anything, the magic of Magical Mountain just kind of manifested their child one day. This kind of thing just happens sometimes. (Rose and I agree that Jeremy and Madrone should in fact be friends). Joel picked the name. Joel and Scar weren’t expecting this, they just looked at the baby with vague confusion, so Scar wasn’t going to argue when Joel suggested Jeremy. It’s a good name! Scar did not, in fact, know at the time that Joel had previously created a religion around the name, but he thought it was funny when he found out. Joel was pleased about this. Lizzie wouldn’t let him name a child Jeremy. 

Jeremy is a cryptid. He likes being unsettling on purpose. It’s his main hobby. He doesn’t need to blink and he just stands there staring at people. He has a large scar on his leg from when he was reading in a tree and fell out of the tree. His favorite genres of book are murder mystery and romance novels. Jeremy likes to test people at first. If you do find him weird? Weak. He does not want to be around you anyway. No pity (he gets it from his dads). 

He has unnaturally-bright-looking green eyes that glow in the dark (he can’t actually see in the dark but he refuses to admit this), perpetually-messy hair that he dyes it a new color every month (naturally light brown), and a lanky 6′4 frame. Sometimes people think Jeremy is older than his actual age (early teens ish) because of how tall he is. He will not admit his actual age when people guess. He just makes them guess and then responds by shrugging.

Jeremy’s somewhat secretive, but not because he has any dark secrets to hide, he just thinks it’s funny. He’s right. Often he lies, for the same reason. He is more open with friends though. 

Some Images:

Sunset (age 12ish)

Jeremy (also around 12. I think. unless he tricked me somehow)

Sunset, throughout the years 

Sunset, age 18-20ish

[casifer-is-king]

Private Investigator

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader

Rated: T

Warnings: some language, infidelity.

A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.

You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.

That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.

"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."

"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.

Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.

“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.

“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”

Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.

Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.

“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”

The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.

"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."

Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.

"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.

"Not yet," you reply.

"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."

“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”

Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.

You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”

“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.

“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.

Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”

“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.

“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.

“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.

“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”

“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.

“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.

Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.

"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.

"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."

"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.

As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.

Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.

You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."

You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.

It's five days later that you get a text.

Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.

You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.

You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.

He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.

No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.

You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.

Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.

“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”

“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.

You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.

Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.

How have you been doing? He asks.

As well as can be expected, you text back.

Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.

It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.

The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.

You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.

You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.

The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.

You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.

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

Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.

Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.

He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.

And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.

Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.

Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.

Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.

Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.

“Hey,” Frankie greets.

“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.

“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.

“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”

Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”

“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”

And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.

“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.

It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.

It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.

Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.

Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.

He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.

It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.

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

You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?

Finally my day off lol, you text back.

Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?

Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?

Sounds good. I'll see you then.

You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.

The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”

“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”

Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”

You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.

“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.

Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”

The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.

“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.

“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.

Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”

His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.

You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.

“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.

“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.

“Of course, hermosa.”

“Why did you become a private investigator?”

The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.

“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.

“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”

You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”

Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”

The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.

Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”

“Oh really? And what was yours?”

“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.

“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.

“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.

After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.

Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.

Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”

Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.

In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.

His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.

“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.

“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”

“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.

The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.

Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.

Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.

Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.

“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.

“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.

“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you gonna?”

“We can open them together,” you suggest.

But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.

Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?

His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.

You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.

That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?

Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.

“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”

“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”

“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”

“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”

“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”

“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”

Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”

“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.

“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.

While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.

Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.

I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.

Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.

With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.

It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.

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

Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.

Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.

Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?

Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.

Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.

You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?

You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?

Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.

She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.

A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.

He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.

Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.

Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.

Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.

When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.

He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.

Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.

Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.

Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.

“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”

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

Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.

Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.

You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.

“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”

“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”

His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.

“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.

“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.

“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”

Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.

You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.

Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”

“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.

“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.

It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”

“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”

✨✨Part 2✨✨

[ephemerlskies]

constant craving 03 | jjk

⇢ pairing: jungkook x reader

[other members - seokjin]

⇢ genre: drabble series, ANGST, bestfriend!au, unrequited love, the same idiocy just in a different font 

⇢ word count: 4k

⇢ warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption (drunk jungkook makes his first and final appearance enjoy it while you can), vehicular misdemeanor (drive the speed limit kids), an all out emotional and verbal brawling, a lack of communication on one end and a communicational vomit on the other, seokjin appearance for about .02 seconds, the entirety of this is just.... angst

⇢ summary: your dates with Seokjin had become a somewhat consistent fixture in your schedule, however, jungkook's itinerary seemed to clash with yours when he called you after a night of drinking for reasons you assumed to be him helplessly pleading for a safe return home.

♪ playlist: constant craving - k.d. lang, bad religion - frank ocean, misunderstood - lucky daye, neu roses - daniel caesar ♪

╰ series index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 (final)

a/n: whew, okay.... this was probably the most argumentative fic i have ever written so prepare yourself. i hope you all enjoy this god awfully angsty installment of the series! also, yes, jungkook is a sentimental drunk and you all know it

part three: i love you

It's true. It's always the biggest pills that are the most difficult to swallow. And if you could compare someone as elusive as Jungkook to anything, it would be the largest pill imaginable. The kind that hurts the first try, then when you drink half your body weight in water, the Jungkook-emblazoned pill forces down your esophagus no easier than the first gulp. You were still holding it in your mouth, pretending that pill wasn't about to dissolve and stain your mouth forever.

And that was the whole process, just to get over Jungkook. Because getting over him wasn't a one-step program. It was waking up everyday, training and retraining your mind not to think of him first thing in the morning. It was resisting the urge to press the send button on multiple texts and funny videos you knew would make him laugh. It was refusing his calls and every memory that would saunter in your mind and compel you to ask him to watch a movie or order takeout.

It was saying yes to Seokjin when he asked you on a date. And, it was doing your best to sever that instinct of yours to ask Jungkook for advice.

But old habits die hard, and this one still clung onto the bit of breath it wielded. That explained why your idiot of a best friend was sitting on your couch, offering half-hearted nods whenever you would walk out draped in a new outfit.

"Okay, this one?" You twirled around, as if doing so would make you any less skeptical of how you looked. And you were never one to scrutinize your appearance so closely, but this was the date. The one that might light the torch to a brighter romantic future and lead you to someone other than the man who could never be yours to begin with.

"Yeah. Cool." At this point, five outfits in, he wasn't paying any attention at all. He couldn't even bring himself to pretend, his eyes lazily fixed onto your dvd player.

"Jungkook, you didn't even look! Let me guess. You wanna play video games. Is that why you're giving fuck-me-eyes to my T.V. set?" You knew a laugh was far along, but you hoped that would get some sort of reaction out of him. Unfortunately, your words were barely registered for a good ten seconds, though, it felt much longer.

"Hm? Oh, sorry. Just tired, I guess." Jungkook said through barely parted lips. You knew when he couldn't even pronounce his words properly, something he took more seriously than others due to the hauntings of a certain speech impediment, there was definitely something wrong.

Things felt off from the moment he walked into your house. Judging from the way he avoided your hug, that alone suggested a sort of imbalance. It was a casual greeting exchanged between the two of you so often that when you lifted your arms to embrace him, it was born of reflexive association. Like Pavlov's dog, trained to hug him the moment you saw him. But the oddity of him almost discretely walking past you before any contact could be made wasn't where the tension bordered.

Following his arrival, he would have littered a few snarky remarks about how messy your kitchen was, while already scavenging through your fridge, just to get a rouse out of you. And Jungkook wouldn't call himself a connoisseur of all things fabric and fashion, but he surely would have a few thoughts consisting more than two-worded responses. But he just sat on your couch, armed with a face any poker player would commend, and gave you insincere cool's or nice's when need be.

"Okay, what's up? Is it Irene?" You sat down since taking a break to figure out what Jungkook was thinking felt better than continuing your self-absorbed fashion show.

"Kinda... We broke up. Well, she broke up with me or... I don't know. It was weird." It bothered you a bit too much that he didn't even look at you. But if he had, then you would have seen a film of red dousing his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Kook. Is there anything I can do? Anything at all? Want me to egg her house?" This time, he did laugh. You felt relieved he could at least ease slightly back into his expressive self, even if it was just a fraction of what he usually was. A fraction of Jungkook was more than enough for you.

"Nah, no need to go to jail for me. It's not like I didn't see it coming, and apparently she felt the same. Whatever." He let out a sigh that sounded trapped in for a while, then sat up. "We have more important things to worry about."

"I'm sorry, but I don't believe that. Jungkook, literally a week ago you told me she was the love of your life! And now you're just like 'yeah, whatever, I saw it coming.'" You used your notorious 'man voice', which was just yours lowered a few octaves, knowing it would crack another smile along Jungkook's lips. "Come on, I know you love her. This must hurt a lot. I wish... I wish there was something I could do."

You knew exactly what you were doing. Self-sabotage under the guise of consoling your friend. Clearly, it was selfish and regressive to use Jungkook's heartbreak as a means to avoid doing what you could never do before, what you knew deep down you probably would never be able to do: swallow that pill. And what felt even more pathetic than that was the stale, yet persisting hope that he would ask you to stay.

And that's when reality gave you the most gutting and obvious sign. Jungkook was your best friend, the man you had to lug home when he was too drunk to drive, let alone speak coherently or stand. He was the person that buys you ice cream when you're sad, but just as quick to cancel plans with you when Irene needed him. He was just a friend. You'd never be the person he chose, and it nearly made you angry at him for not seeing it all this time.

So, what he said next made everything he was most likely unaware of all too clear to you.

"No, you go have fun. I'll just... chill here?" It was his avoidant way of asking to stay the night, because you knew him to never sleep alone when he had an ache in his heart. "Maybe raid your pantry and use your Netflix account to binge some shows?"

"Fine. Only 'cause I can't say no to you when you're like this." His smile was reimbursement enough for all the food you'd have to restock and the electricity bill that would be higher than usual.

But what he did next, you could almost never forgive him for. It was so subtle, as though it could have passed as an accident or an act he was trying to perform secretly, without any intention of you even noticing. And how could you not notice? The far too temporary and entirely disarming linger of his hand on yours.

Now, you were always one to decipher his most subtle mannerisms, but this one felt beyond the reins of your perceptiveness. It could have been a small gesture of a thank you, but the gentle, and what one could even describe as sentimental, way his skin pressed against yours bore no semblance of a mere expression of gratitude. And it wasn't possible this was a caress of love, because he was already low on currency in that field, spending it completely on Irene.

So, what was it?

How would you describe the way he rested his hand on yours, as if asking you to stay without words, yet punctuating it quick enough to justify it a coincidental form of contact, that your hand just happened to be where his hand was?

"Well, I'm gonna go eat through my problems." Jungkook stood up before you could bat away the wetness in your eyes from your momentary refusal to blink, as if that would somehow help you visualize the meaning of what just happened.

"Oh- Okay. I, um... I should get going." So you did. You walked out your door, and made a decision beyond the demands of your devotion to Jungkook.

Because it probably meant nothing, and he was your best friend, after all.

---

It was easy with Seokjin. And surprisingly enough, that wasn't a bad thing.

You had come to realize everyone craves that passionate kind of love because, in the movies, that's the blueprint for what love should feel like. But that's all it is, something pretty and shiny enough to work into a film. Make believe. And it could never extend beyond the realm of silver screens, where best friends don't magically fall in love and passion awarded more broken hearts than you could count.

Besides, your heart was worn.

See, your heart is a muscle. It works itself to the bone keeping you alive, willing your lungs to breathe, administering blood to each vein and so on. To strain it for someone who was already in love was functionally inefficient. The heart, like any other muscle, grows tired. It can exhaust itself the same way your hand aches after writing for too long.

You needed a break from the gripping emotional aerobics that is and was loving Jeon Jungkook. So, it sufficed that Seokjin was easy. No more overexertion, no more aches and pains and residual soreness occupying your chest, no more of any of that. Because you knew Seokjin liked you, which was safe and easy knowing there was no point mapping out the possible meanings of every inflected word or shrug or smile. They were simply words and shrugs and smiles with him.

And yet, the thing about giving your heart a 'break' is the period succeeding it. When you were finished resting, you knew who would be waiting for you. Who you would always wait for.

"___! Hello?! I can't hear you! It's too loud!" It wasn't really that loud, your idiot of a best friend was just that drunk. You couldn't tell what concerned you more, the fact that his hearing degenerated when he was, from the sound of it, seven shots deep or that this was the third of alcohol-induced call for this week.

"Where are you?" You asked through a sigh, eyes trained on your Twitter feed and ears occupied with the urgent voice blaring through the speaker phone.

And since it was the third time this week, you were not even half-amused by the repetitive stunt he was pulling.

"I don't know... I walked out and now I'm out and I don't know." The hiccup following his messy sentence was comically textbook 'too drunk'. “Hey, we should take a trip! We should, like, go somewhere!”

“The only place you should be going is home.”

“See, I would totally do that, but I have no idea where I am. Why are these street signs so hard to read?” The end and beginning of each word blended together, rendering that sentence one long, slurred word.

By now, the step by step plan synthesized by you had been memorized. And even though you labored your brain to rewire any feelings leaving you at his beck and call, it clearly hadn't been proficient since your keys had already been gathered and his whereabouts programmed in your GPS via his location services.

"You're so annoying." It might have been rude of you to want him to feel guilty, but it was just as rude of him to interrupt your one night off, which was supposed to be spent with Seokjin, with his intoxicated antics. "I'm coming to pick you up."

"Yo- u are? I love you sooo much. You're the best friend ever, ya know that?" Overly emotional professions was your que to drive fifteen miles over the speed limit so he didn't do something stupid enough to land himself in an ICU.

"Okay, I'm almost there. I think I see you. Wave for me?"

The slumped silhouette you were squinting at began to frantically throw its arms side to side, making you both laugh and pull over so he could drag himself into your passenger seat. And, if you were being honest, he looked better as the blackened shadow of himself.

Jungkook, in all his glory, had his shirt almost fully turned backwards, hair ruffled into a mess, and face as red as the time you and him laid on the beach until your skin punished you with a second degree burn. And all those factors didn't amount to how he smelled like he bathed for hours inside a hand sanitizer bottle.

"God, you're a mess, Jungkook." You said that as jokingly as possible, but meant the sternness embedded in each word. Jungkook was a mess, physically and mentally.

"Hey! You're judging me! Stop being th-o mean, ___." Whenever he was this drunk, his lisp made more appearances in his speech than when he wasn't.

You hated how easily it reminded you of when you were in middle school and he was still navigating and rehearsing through his speech patterns. In middle school, when he was the sweet boy with his only fault being his lisp, who gave you his hoodie and a compassionate smile upon meeting you because your current bully plotted the embarrassment of a lifetime with that piece of chocolate on your seat. In middle school, when Jungkook was the only person in your grade who was kind enough to be kind and true to his word when he pledged his loyalty as your best friend. Forever.

With just one word, you were that timid little middle schooler again, helplessly and unconditionally in love with Jungkook.

Hauling Jungkook, who was more muscle than bone and flesh, over to his door was an art form you had trained, practiced, and mastered about thirty or so times before this one. He weighed about twice as much as you could normally carry, and nonetheless, he was out of your car and in his house in no time.

After you locked the door, you turned around to meet Jungkook, rendering the door frame into a crutch and effectively detaining you between his body and the solid wood behind you.

If you weren't so reminiscent in the car seconds before this, then the vodka-scented souvenir on his breath would have gagged you. However, being this close to him, feeling the warmth of his body consuming and overpowering yours, just made you want to sink into him even more and give him everything you had to offer.

His head was hung so when you looked up, you were greeted with Jungkook's lazy smile that gave his lips a boyish asymmetry and draped his eyelids halfway down his irises. And he had you spooled around him so tightly, this look just made him all the more appetizing.

"Kook, we gotta get you to bed, buddy." You tried to ward him off by weaponizing the most strictly platonic nickname you could think of, partnered with a neighborly pat on the back.

It was mostly to remind yourself that this man, who was an inch too close to your face, was your friend, and that in less than ten minutes you were expected to see Seokjin, but from the way he was looking at you, as if he reached into the depths of your heart to devour all your feelings for him and make them his own, you had to remind him of the universally accepted best friend boundaries.

No deep, romantic gazing into each other's eyes. No intimate activity that could be a precursor to anything more affectionate than a hug. No doing exactly what you two were doing as of now.

"Don't call me that." You hoped his aggression against what you said was merely his inebriated irrationally talking, and as always, his emotions were far beyond his control.

And, shamefully, you also hoped it was because he actually did feel the way you felt. What if he wanted the date that Seokjin was going to get tonight and he wanted all the hand holding and none of the back patting, a 'baby' instead of a 'buddy'?

"What? You're drunk-"

"Don't." Before you could drag him by the arm to his bed, a firm palm settled on your torso and closed the gap between you and the door while widening the gap an inch further between Jungkook and his bed, where he would fall asleep without the warmth of the only person he wanted. "___, please."

His voice was strangled with desperation and Jungkook was depleted of all resistance. He just needed to drink you up. To fill himself with the nourishments of your lips, your body, you.

"What-" He could have silenced you easily with a 'shh' or a finger to your lips. Or anything to your lips except his lips.

His lips. They were greedy and giving all at once. Making soft and intimate ministrations against yours as he kissed you before you had the chance to register what was going on. And even when you did, you let his tongue slide into your mouth. This moment was brimming with all the spontaneity you could ever be prepared for, and though it was new, there was no denying that kissing him felt like finally coming home just from the amount of times you had played this moment out in your daydreams. Plus, Jungkook seemed to ease his tongue along yours a bit too confidently for this to be the first time the idea of kissing you has ran through his mind. 

You're being stupid, you told yourself and Jungkook, but that didn't matter when you were finally allowed a taste of what it felt like to be kissed and touched and possibly even loved by Jungkook.

Your shirt was bunched halfway up your torso, his body pressed to your front a reprisal for the chill of the door against your back. Jungkook was, admittedly, a phenomenal kisser even when the lens of sobriety wasn't available to him. The way he ran his hands along the bare of your back like some desperate pilgrimage to discover the undiscovered parts of your body and took your bottom lip between his teeth like it was his to begin with was nearly enough to undress you from all your defenses, from all your clothing, from every single barrier that kept you from Jungkook for the past twelve years and let him have you. And finally have him. It was nearly enough.

Your hands divorced his body from yours before your lips and heart were ready to let go. It was painful, but the heartbroken look wringing his face into a tearful frown was even more so.

"No." You pushed him away further only to walk past him and seek refuge in the open space of his living room. "You don't get to do this."

"What? What does-"

"You don't get to drunkenly kiss me, Jungkook. You don't get to hold me and kiss me like you love me. It's not fair."

"Hey-"

"Because you don't. You don't love me..." If you weren't too busy finally permissing the hot words to boil over from pure anger, then you would have felt the even hotter tears wetting the expanse of your cheek.

"Well, how the hell would you know that?" His voice drowned out the loud pumps of blood beating in your ears like a drum.

"Because it would have happened ten years ago, Jungkook! Jesus, it would have been obvious from the beginning. So if you love me, if you really love me, then it wouldn't be happening now, like this. When you were drunk out of your mind and still vulnerable from Irene."

"You don't know anything." If that were the case, then Jungkook somehow knew even less than you.

"Yeah, clearly. I didn't know you'd stoop this low. I thought I was a lot of things to you. But I never thought I'd be some rebound."

"A rebound? You think that's what this is?" Jungkook seemed upset, but to your knowledge he had absolutely no reason to be angry with you.

He was, as always, displacing the burdens he didn't feel like dealing with on you, moderating you into an emotional punching bag. But what hurt more than those scrapes and bruises, was the aftermath of letting him fuck his worries away which would have consisted of him telling you the next morning that it meant nothing, expecting you to nod demurely, maybe even console him, and act like your chest hadn't been emptied and filled with his baggage in the most murderous way.

"Fuck you."

"Wow. You're really being like this? You really wanna talk about this now?

"You know what? Yeah I wanna talk about it. I wanna talk about the years. The years, Jungkook, that I've spent loving you! I- I wanna talk about the amount of times I've spent thinking about you when you were with her, and I probably didn't even cross your mind. Or how about the fucking thousands of times I've spent crying over you because I knew I was never going to be the one you'd want to wake up next to! And I had to watch! I had to fucking watch you fall in love over and over and probably wonder why I didn't fall in love either. It was you. It was always you, Jungkook."

"___, I-"

"No." His attempt to intervene was quickly denied. You were too angry to let him speak, too tired to carry these grievances any longer. "You don't get to talk. It's all out there. I loved you. I still love you! Fuck, I'm trying to get over you. And it's like you know. It's like you can read my mind or something and strike right when I'm about to recover from the last wound."

Your breathing was as heavy as Jungkook's was shallow. He could only stand, breathlessly, only curse himself for ever being so blind and regret taking advantage of your love even if it were entirely unknowingly, just to let his heart sink deeper until it fell completely out of his chest while his tears fell just as heavily.

"I'm done, Jungkook. I'm tired of trying to outrun you in this race that you're not even competing in. I'm tired of loving you. So, I'm done."

All the words Jungkook wanted to say, the words pleading for sound, carving deep gashes in his throat and leaving him vocally impaired, could never amount to the apology you deserved. Maybe this once, he wouldn't leave you wounded. He would gather the nobility to shut up and let you move on from him. Because you wouldn't know from his lapse of silence that he was empathizing with every bit of pain he caused you, and he hated himself more than you did right now for allowing such a pain to ever fall in your hands. But, where you knew you could someday forgive him for it, he knew he would never forgive himself.

He could scrounge for a few things to respond with, pour the weight of his emotions into the scarcity of his words, but he needed to let you leave and be selfless for once in his life.

"I should go. Drink some water before bed, okay?" You mumbled to choke back your tears, though it wouldn't matter letting a few more tears escape since you were previously sob-ranting and he'd seen you cry like this a hundred times before. He was the shoulder you never thought you'd have to miss leaning on, but walking out of his door punctured a hole in you. An empty space in your heart designed for the one person who had crushed the rest of it.

If this were a movie, with star-crossed lovers and a fiery infatuation blooming into what everyone secretly wants: true love, then Jungkook would have ran out of his door and held you close, professing his undying love for you. He would have won you back, reassembled your broken heart into fullness, kissed you beneath the brilliance of the moon, and lived happily ever after.

But this wasn't a movie, and he did none of those things.

Instead, he stumbled his way into his kitchen. He poured himself that cup of water you advised. He thought about how even when you swore to him you were done, you spared a bit of compassion to remind him to take care of himself. He wondered how deserving he was of everything you are. He touched his lips, searching for the echo of yours. He fell into his queen-sized bed meant for two, alone, and whispered the words that were ever eclipsing to the space beside him where he longed for you to lay so you could hear them for yourself.

"I love you."

a/n: sorry to put you through that, but the idea was born and i am but a humble vessel to bring it to life <3 hehe thank you all so much for reading and like i said, don't worry there will be a happy ending!!! (and possibly a longer-than-drabble final chapter to this series)