#so you wish for someone to come ask whats wrong

[allmoshnobrain]

You're a short girl, and sometimes that messes with your confidence. Your boyfriend doesn't seem to care at all, though.

✦ on this fic: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader, fluff, reader is short and it makes her a bit insecure

✦ a/n: this is my first time writing for anything other than metallica/megadeth/venom which is what i usually write for but i've been daydreaming a lot about this man and needed to get this out of my system 😭 also it was a great way to warm up and start writing again after my break!! hope u guys enjoy it 💖

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

It takes him a while to pick up on your insecurity.

It's subtle, and honestly, he’s not exactly great with subtle. He fails, at first, to catch the way you pout, the way you frown whenever you see a hot actress who’s taller than you, or a long dress you think would look better on someone with a few more inches.

He finally catches on, though, one night when you’re cooking dinner. It’s kind of a slip up, really — a tiring day and your period cramps the worst they’ve been in the last few hours just making it easier for you to get upset over the smallest thing. So when you can’t reach one of the trays on the top shelf and have to ask him to grab it, he turns around to see you teary-eyed and upset, which is not how this usually goes.

“Love?” he asks, his brow furrowing when he sees your state “What’s wrong?” He glances at the glass tray in his hands. “Did I grab the wrong one?”

“What? No, no, it’s fine,” you mutter, his confused look quickly shifting into worry when he notices the tears in your eyes.

“Hey,” he quickly puts the tray down and gently grabs your chin. “Talk to me. What is it?”

He’s firm, straightforward but not harsh, which just makes you feel even more ridiculous for almost crying over something so dumb.

“I’m being silly,” you say, but he shakes his head. 

“Don’t say that,” he mutters. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

That last part sounds almost like a command, his voice all firm and serious — something that would probably annoy you if he didn’t sound so genuinely concerned. You sigh.

“I wish I was taller,” you whisper, hoping he wouldn’t hear it, but he does. Of course he does.

“You wish you were taller?” he repeats, now more confused than worried. “Why?”

“I just don’t want to feel useless, always needing your help,” you half-lie, because that’s not really it.  And of course, Simon knows — he always does. You can tell by the way he raises his eyebrow slightly at you, disarming you instantly. “I wish I was prettier,” you finally mutter.

“You are pretty,” he says slowly, like he’s still trying to figure out where all this is coming from. “You’re beautiful. And I like helping you.”

“But tall girls are… More beautiful,” you sniffle, and he snorts.

“Who said that?”

“I said,” you frown. “Like, every time I see a cute dress that’s too long, I just think I can’t wear it. It won’t look right on me. I always feel like I can only look cute, but sometimes I want to look, I don’t know, gorgeous. Tall girls just always seem to look gorgeous to me, and I...”

“Oh, shush,” Simon grumbles, sliding an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. He tilts your chin up gently so you’re looking at him. “You are gorgeous. And you’re beautiful, and you’re mine. And I like you small — easier to hold.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s shaky, and you try to hold it back, wanting to stay in your little pity party a bit longer. I mean, seriously, what does he mean by "you’re gorgeous" when you feel the exact opposite?

"Easier to hold?" you say, trying to sound offended but failing as a giggle slips out.

"There she is," he hums, kissing the corner of your mouth, and that’s when you realize you’re smiling. "My girl. Don’t be upset, love. You don’t need to be taller to be pretty. And if you ever need to reach for something, well, that’s what I’m here for."

“You’re just saying that because you’re my boyfriend,” you tease. He lets out an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not.”

“You are!”

“Goddammit, woman. Will you quit trying to convince me you’re not beautiful? It’s not happening,” he frowns, then leans in, pressing a small, tender kiss to your lips. His arms wrapped around you are comfortable, warm and firm and feel like home.

It never fails to disarm you, how soft he can be. Out of the blue, always when you’re not really expecting it. Just when you think you’ve finally managed to annoy him or maybe this is the time he’s gonna get tired of you. He never fails to prove you wrong. 

He never fails to prove that he loves you, just the way you are.

[felixbit]

i hate to wait so long

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader w. 1.9k genre: fluff summary: your long-distance boyfriend's birthday is coming up but you don't have the funds to visit him this year. surprisingly, seungmin turns up to your door anyways. warnings: reader is a uni student studying abroad a/n: inspired by the lyrics of this song :)

Choosing to study abroad was a good idea in concept. You got to travel and live in another country's culture for a semester as you worked on your degree.

That was, until you got a boyfriend. He lived back at home and you reconnected over old friends when you were first packing to leave. He'd come over to your place and hang out, playing video games and teasing you when you couldn't lift a moving box without help. Not that he could, either.

His name was Seungmin. He asked you out one week before you left for the semester, and it was the best week you'd had in a long time. You spent almost every day together, hanging out and trying new things until you got tired and crashed at each other's places.

When that first week came to a close, you begrudgingly packed up your things. Seungmin drove you to the airport, holding your hand as far into the airport as he could come with you.

It was through a teary-eyed confession from him that revealed he'd never felt closer to someone before than he did with you. He was too scared of saying goodbye and asked to be your boyfriend, even if he was terrified of moving too fast.

When you agreed, he was using his sleeve to rub his eyes and denied ever crying. He told you to have a safe trip and he kissed you for the first time, promising a million more the next time he saw you.

You thought about that moment every day. Sitting at a desk doing work had never felt more dull, especially when you had a perfect boyfriend waiting for you at home. Life abroad wasn't bad, you were loving it, you just missed him more.

Every night, you stayed up to call him and tell him all about your day-to-day. He'd hop on his computer and play video games with you until the sun peeked over the horizon or you resigned to sleep.

When you weren't calling each other, you texted the whole rest of your waking hours. Seungmin would send a plethora of random photos from his day and complain about his band mates while you responded with your own pictures and advice.

It was starting to occur to you how close it was getting to September, which meant Seungmin's birthday was just around the corner. You had already decided on gifts, ready to buy them so they'll be delivered right on time.

But, it dawned on you pretty fast that you didn't have the money to visit. Studying in another country was really expensive and there was only so much time in a day you could work outside of school. Either way, there was no miracle budget to make it possible.

You told him this almost immediately, and he was extremely good about it. He reassured you that it wasn't necessary and he'd make up for all the lost time soon enough when you were done.

The remaining weeks between then had been full of assignments and deadlines coming up, so it snuck up on you. You'd been on a call with Seungmin the night before playing Overwatch when you looked down at the date on your computer.

"What time is it? Lemme- oh, shit." You stopped mid sentence, staring at the date on your computer screen in awe.

Seungmin looked confused, his webcam up on your second screen. "What's wrong? Do I need to back out of the queue?"

"No, no," You shook your head, laughing nervously, "I just saw the date. Your birthday's tomorrow."

"Don't tell me you forgot," Seungmin looked a little dumbfounded.

"I didn't forget, I just.. I've had a lot going on these past few weeks that September kinda went a little too fast."

"It's okay," Seungmin reassured, "I'll forgive you when I get to open the pile of gifts you've been sending me tomorrow morning."

"I wish I could be there to see it," You lamented.

"It's alright. You'll be able to give me them all in person next year, right?"

"Right! Plus, I'll be able to give you Christmas gifts at least."

At that moment, you connected to a game and the topic of conversation switched. The thought of missing his birthday lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away in order to enjoy the night with your boyfriend.

As the night was coming to a close, you made sure to wish him a happy birthday right as the clock rolled over to midnight. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to stay up another three hours, but Seungmin decided to go to bed early and you followed in his footsteps.

Sleeping was nice. It was one of the times you could see Seungmin. He was almost always there waiting for you with a smile on his face. You could do anything together, just in a fantasy land. Maybe he wasn't really there, but it was enough to keep you going.

That night, you laid with him in bed. Your head was on his chest over a soft sweater as he sung to you. It was the first time in a while you'd dreamed of his room, bringing back all of the fond memories from before you'd left. His posters, guitar sat against his record collection, all his bookshelves. His diary was even on the nightstand beside his bed, true to life.

You almost hated waking up. The world was cruel for taking away the perfect dream it had crafted, but you knew soon enough you'd be in his room again.

Seungmin's birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so you didn't worry too much about waking up early. When you did inevitably get up, you made sure to text him a few more 'happy birthday' messages just in case he forgot about it himself. He was already up, thanking you for the birthday wishes and sending you a photo of his outfit.

It wasn't really his style to be awake and ready this early in the day, but it was his birthday. He has to make the most of his special day, you thought. So, you sent back some compliments and hearts and moved on with your own morning routine.

As you normally would, you kept Seungmin updated through texts on your morning. He wasn't super chatty, but it was to be expected with whatever he had planned. You expected to see a wall of text on what he was up to by the end of the day, but for now it was quiet.

By noon, you had gotten a little concerned, but brushed it off. His family likely had things to do with him, right? Plus, he had to get in some good meals.

It was almost one in the afternoon when you finally heard back from him. Seeing his name on your phone screen gave you an instant feeling of relief.

seungmin: come outside

You heard a knock at your door. The text had you confused, but you followed along. He couldn't be here, right?

Opening the door, there he stood. He was grinning ear-to-ear, shifting around on his feet. "Surprise."

It was on instinct that you threw your arms around him and hugged him with all the weight in your body. His wrapped around you and squeezed you back until you were wincing from the pressure.

"What are you doing here?!" You looked at him dumbfounded, your head spinning.

He looked back at you sheepishly, "I dunno, just thought it'd be cool if I showed up for a birthday surprise?"

"Yeah, but it's your birthday, Seungmin. That's the kind of thing I should be doing on your special day!"

"Well, I knew you didn't have enough to come visit this year, and I made it work! I really didn't want to wait so long to see you again."

You laced your fingers with his and pulled him inside, and that's when the explanation started.

Seungmin had first come up with the idea to come visit on his birthday almost a month prior when he first learned you couldn't come see him. He'd booked a flight out and made sure there wasn't any huge exams around the day.

That morning, he'd gotten up at six just to get ready and look good in time to catch his flight. He'd sent you photos he'd taken earlier when he was sitting in the airport, hoping it didn't look too suspicious.

The absence in texts was his flight over. It wasn't super long, but it was enough that he worried you'd catch onto his plan. From there, he'd gathered his stuff as quickly as he could and grabbed a ride over to your place.

After his story, you made sure to get him some food and snacks, which you happily enjoyed together as he turned on a show. He got a small tour of your student accommodation after the first episode before revealing that he had some plans set up.

Seungmin had made lunch reservations at a place not too far off campus and wanted to take you on a walk there. Of course, you said yes.

The entire way there, Seungmin refused to let go of your hand. He'd swing it along with your steps, chattering on about what was happening and the music he was making. But, no matter what, his fingers were locked with yours.

That was the fun part: Seungmin wasn't usually a big talker. He'd have lots of input to give when you would talk to him, but he wasn't super into initiating his own discussions. Today was different.

So as you walked down the cracked pavement of the sidewalks, your attention was grabbed by your chatty boyfriend. You got to engage with a lot of what he was saying, but it was nice to just walk and listen to him ramble.

Everything seemed more lively. The birds had their own chorus, the grass looked greener, and there were less loud cars blaring their music. By the time you were coming up on the lunch spot, you found your heart contented with the day already, even if you'd only been with Seungmin less than two hours.

"Minnie?" You squeezed his hand softly as you waited at a sidewalk.

Seungmin turned towards you with a smile on his face. "Yeah?"

"Thank you for coming and seeing me," You felt your face flush a little at the thought, "I really don't know how I could've waited any longer without you."

Your boyfriend's big grin couldn't be contained as he let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I could've waited, either. You've been in my dreams too much lately, and it's been driving me crazy not having you here."

"You see me in your dreams, too?" You asked, recalling the one from the previous night, "It's kind of infuriating, isn't it? It feels so perfect and then it's taken away so quick."

"Yeah, I just couldn't wait another day without having you here with me," Seungmin stopped as you crossed to the other side of the street before pulling you into a hug, "I had to hold you like this for real."

"You're such a dork."

Seungmin snickered as he pulled away from the hug and gave you a quick, yet tender kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet, making you miss them the second they were gone. "For you. The rest of the world doesn't matter to me."

"Today really has you in a sentimental mood, huh?" You pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it lasted longer. "Happy birthday."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get lunch before you make out with me on the street."

[her-favorite]

♡ madison beer ♡

the night was more ruthless than the day.

everything went wrong today. you had woken up by multiple messages from your coworker since you had slept past your alarm, you were barely ready when heading out the door, your boss decided it’d be a great idea to take all of his own problems out on you by giving you the worst work load, and on top of that, you had to stay late to finish it all.

but, now, as you lay in bed, eyes closed, sleep was the one thing you couldn’t reach, despite desperately needing it.

tossing and turning, the irritation slowly fading to dejection, you lie hopeless. a deep exhale leaves your lips as your eyes flutter open, staring up at the ceiling. today was the longest day you’ve had in awhile, so why isn’t your body letting you rid yourself of it? it’s like it knows how badly you wish to forget this, despite its own restraint to allow you to.

a fleeting thought passes by you as you lay awake: madison.

you knew your girlfriend was currently on tour, but you’ve expressed more often than not how much you miss her. the two of you text everyday, whether it’s a good morning message or something quick to let the other know how your day was going. today, you hadn’t gotten the chance. the day’s problems had hit you so fast, you hadn’t even been able to take a second to even collect your thoughts, let alone text your girlfriend.

reaching your hand over to your nightstand, you immediately unlock it and bring it closer to your face. biting on your bottom lip, you hover your finger over her contact. it was so late. your eyes flicker to the time on the top of your screen: 3:02 am. would she even be awake? what if she was trying to get sleep for her next performance?

letting out another sigh, you rest your head back against your pillow. so many restless nights without madison had taken a toll on you. when she was around, she’d have you out like a light. you never understood how it was so easy for you to fall asleep so fast when with her at night, but over time you realized that it might tie into the fact that you’ve grown so comfortable and safe around her. madison has always had such a calming presence to her - she’s always been gentle, no matter the situation. it was something you greatly admired about her and you’re only now realizing how much you’ve relied on it.

with one last intake of breath, you decided to bite the bullet and click on the call button beneath her contact. staring at the screen, you anxiously wait for something to change. it rings a few times before it connects. “baby? what’s wrong?” madison’s voice comes through your phone’s speaker, instantly relaxing you. your body seems to loosen as you lean all of your weight back against the mattress.

“nothing, just.. can’t fall asleep.” you mumble, rubbing at your eyes. even though they stung with exhaustion, the hours you spent trying to go to bed always failed.

your ears picked up on the way she hummed softly. there was light rustling in the background, as if she shifting her weight on her bed in her tour bus. the thought made you come out of your daze.

“m’sorry if i woke you, mads. i didn’t - ”

“mm, no,” she mumbles, sleep seeping through her tone. her voice was low, a little raspy and it made goosebumps erupt on your skin. “don’t apologize, sweet girl. i always wanna talk to you.” madison says. it was like she tries melting your heart. “can i facetime you?” she asks. instantly, you agree.

your lips curl up tiredly as soon as her face pops up on your screen. her face was bare of makeup, her hair a little messy from tossing around in bed and, oh, she’s never looked better. how someone can be just as breathtaking - if not more - like this was something that never made sense to you. she was utterly perfect, in every sense of the word.

“there’s my pretty girl.” madison hums, making your cheeks heat up as your smile widens. she giggles softly at your bashful reaction before laying her head back down on the fluffy pillow beneath her. “close your eyes, okay? ‘m’gonna be right here.” she coos gently. it immediately relaxed you.

following her soft orders, your eyes flutter shut after you prop the phone up beside you. getting comfortable, your head loosens it’s tense position, as well as the rest of the muscles in your body. your breathing evens out as you listen to the soft hum from madison, a gentle, almost angelic - scratch that, it was angelic, her voice always is - sound coming from her pretty pink lips. she always knew her singing soothed you.

only after a few minutes had sleep consumed you. madison didn’t know how tired you were, but to her, it was evident how much you needed it. and she was glad to see you out so quickly with her help - it always made her feel special that she can assist you in that way, despite you always making her feel special anyway.

“goodnight, baby.”

°˖✧✿✧˖°

requested!

my motivation’s been rocky (when is it not) so ive been pretty inconsistent with posting/requests lately, im so sorry!! :(( but i got a little bit today & got a nessa fic out andd this cute little blurb! hope you guys like it & ily!! <3

also usually my blurbs are shorter, but i kinda ran a little with this request bc it was too cute lol - also im too lazy to add tags </3

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪

[malfiora]

I'm rewriting Jason's resurrection and reconciliation with the fam for my own sanity:

Jason dies tragically and horrifically at age 15

A year later, Superboy Prime punches through universes, collapsing two realities onto each other: one where Jason dies, the other in which he survives. Jason comes back to life but is semi-conscious. Talia finds him and takes him to the League

Jason regains full consciousness after a dip in the Lazarus. For two years, Jason trains and slowly regains his memories. Once he's 18, he decides to return to Gotham, despite Talia's wishes

Quickly becomes clear that Gotham hasn't changed much, which disappoints Jason. He decides to put his League training to use and control crime as a harm reduction tactic, and he goes back and forth on contacting Bruce, especially after he hears rumors of a new Robin

Joker pops up with a new scheme, and this is the last straw. Jason concocts a plan to kidnap and finally kill Joker and confront Batman about all the ways he's failed him and Gotham. When Batman refuses to kill Joker, Jason feints like he's going to kill Tim to "save him the trouble" since Batman clearly cares so little for his sidekicks. ("Hey, kid, at least I'll make it painless.") This gets a reaction from Batman, who incapacitates Jason and rescues Robin. Jason retreats to lick his wounds and reconsider everything

Jason takes time to ruminate on all of this. He's still hurt that his death meant nothing in the grand scheme of things but thinks about Batman's reaction to Tim being in danger and has to wonder if that's how he acted when Jason was in that warehouse

Out of morbid curiosity and a little bit of fanboyishness, Tim monitors Jason. Jason knows this and eventually confronts him. He feels bad for scaring Tim but has to maintain his edge so he tries not to be too scary. At some point, Tim speaks his mind and tells Jason that he has no idea what things were like while he was dead. "Batman was a mess, he almost killed people. That's why I became Robin. I had to put him back together, so you don't get to act like you know everything that happened the past 3 years because you been back a couple months." Jason takes this in. They part ways. (Jason: "Don't die." Tim: "Don't change.")

The Chemo incident happens. Jason rushes to Blüdhaven to make sure Dick is alive and okay, thus revealing he's alive to the Titans. After the dust settles, he and Dick talk privately so that Dick can react properly. (Dick: "No, Batman didn't tell me." Jason: "Yeah, he has a habit of doing that.")

Jason gets to ask if Tim's claim of Batman being a mess is founded. It is. He asks Dick if it's worth doing things the same way. "It is." That doesn't help.

Eventually Jason and Bruce have their equivalent of a heart to heart. Basically they both go, "I love you even if I think you're wrong."

Jason forms the Outlaws, but the moment he gets the distress call from the fam, he comes rushing back to help. He's offended that Bruce is surprised (Tim is hopeful, Dick isn't remotely shocked)

When Dick "dies," Jay comes back to take his place as Eldest Son. He sticks around through the end of the Robin War

Other important events that definitely happen but just don't fit neatly into a timeline:

Barbara and Jason team up on a mission shortly after Bruce tells Barbara that Jason is back. She's happy and immediately falls into big sister/mother hen mode and chides him for not seeing her sooner and makes him promise to stop by the clocktower regardless of whatever is happening between him and Bruce. She promises to help him upgrade his tech if he does. (Barbara has always been more lenient with killers and believes wholly in second chances.)

Cass stops Jason from killing someone who "deserves it," resulting in them fighting. Cass is better trained but she refuses to kill Jason, who won't stop. Eventually, they call a ceasefire and talk a bit. "All life has meaning," Cass says. Jason scoffs. "Even the Joker's?" "All life," she insists. Jason quietly disagrees but he respects Cass's determination. This starts a back and forth of him testing her anytime they're grouped together. ("Even this lowlife, Cass?" or "She's worth your own life?" or "They wouldn't spare you, why bother?") Each and every time she sticks to her principles.

Jay and Steph grab food together after a patrol one night and bond over being the family outcasts (i.e. the ones Bruce doesn't implicitly trust). Jason vows to make Steph his Robin if he ever becomes Batman. She laughs but is secretly touched

***I can never decide what to do with Damian. On the one hand, it's hilarious if Jason knows about him and keeps quiet about it. On the other, I don't see why Jason wouldn't tell Bruce about Damian's existence. Maybe once he's on speaking terms with Bruce again, he does tell him about Damian, which then prompts Jason to encourage Talia to let Damian meet Bruce. This is accelerated by Talia discovering Ra's' plan for Damian and wanting to get Damian away from the League

[cerisemerald]

One and only — Thomas Shelby x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: She has been loving Thomas for a while now, and it is heaving on her the fact she thinks he still is in love with Grace — she needs a confession, a affirmation that she is not just filling in a gap. It comes in a unexpected night, followed by an unusual morning, but everything with Thomas was like that.

MUSIC: One and only by Adele

A/N: this is the second fic I am reposting from my old account (I accidentally deleted it) and it was from one of my celebrations (200 followers I think) that consisted of fanfics inspired by Adele’s songs from the album 21, this one was requested by a dear friend and it is very dear to me!! It happens between s1-s2, Thomas meets (Y/N) after grace leaves. Feedback is always welcomed!

WARNINGS: English is not my first language.

WORD COUNT: 5,477

[MASTERLIST] [MOODBOARD]

(divider credit is for @cafekitsune)

“Thomas,” she calls, staring at his back, but he doesn't answer, he continues to look at the field in front of them instead. “Thomas?”

“Hm?” He still doesn't look at her.

(Y/N) decides to finally walk to him, she does not stop in front of him though, sensing something was wrong and not wanting to disturb or annoy him somehow. She stops right behind Thomas, a step of distance between them, from this close she can see the tension in his shoulders better, and as much as she wishes to touch him and try to tranquillise him, she waits. He doesn't do anything, however, not even looks at her, and she sighs.

She looks at the field, too, trying to understand what is possibly happening in his head. But she has a strong guess, one she does not like at all. (Y/N) hates when Thomas lives more in his past than in his present life, for her, it was his biggest flaw; the way he was constantly living for memories and not for life itself. And she feels that now he is probably thinking about what happened two years ago, Grace.

(Y/N) does not care he is thinking of her, that she can understand, after all he did fall in love with her, it would not be easy, especially for Thomas who protected himself with so many walls, to forget the woman. She doesn't expect him to just stop thinking about Grace overnight, but it did hurt, sometimes, how it felt, as if she was living in the shadows of someone bigger than her. It had been Grace's mistake, but she was the one paying for it, paying for the mistakes of a woman she hadn't even met.

She also knew, of course, that it would take Thomas time to trust again, to open himself like he had before. She knew everything that revolved around a broken heart, she did, but knowing did not make anything easier to deal with. It was still hard to face Tommy and see how, even in his most present moments, a piece of him was lost. Sometimes, she would ask herself why she even stayed, when it seemed like Thomas would never love her the same way. But she did, returned to him every single time, hope, maybe, tying her to him.

“Tom, why’d you bring me here?”

Thomas had showed up in her house last night, surprising (Y/N) in the middle of the week. It was not how their encounters usually went, Thomas would see her mostly on weekends. Sometimes he would spend the night, sleep with her to leave only on Sunday morning, sometimes stay up until four pm, these nights they would dance in her kitchen while drinking whiskey. It was all simple, but what mattered was that they talked, that they would sit down to talk and would sooth each other. Everything between them was simple, even love, when it came to their realisations that they were in love. There hadn't been a confession, not from her nor from him, they had just looked at each other differently, held each other for longer, kissed with more passion than ever, and that was enough to understand.

But yesterday was very different. She could not understand what was happening, neither read it on his face. As soon as she opened the door, he was tense, eyes haunted — not like tiredness from work or exhaustion because of all his problems, but as if he had just heard terrible news and saw his world crumbling. When she greeted him with a kiss, he had not held her waist or face, and had returned the kiss distantly. Still, she breathed and let him in, hoping that she might help somehow. He didn't talk much, short answers only, but it was like he needed the attention, needed her to listen to him, so she did. After sometime, she had run out of ideas to console him and offered for them to share a meal together, and for the first time since they had known each other, he ate something. Almost unnerving, but she was so relieved that she chose to see that as a good sign. After that, Thomas just sat in silence while she cleaned the plates.

When (Y/N) finished, she turned around to see he was sitting still at the table, eyes closed, breathing like he was trying to control himself. She couldn’t tell if he was trying to hold back tears or a scream, whatever it was, it was consuming him, drowning him in anguish. (Y/N) moved slowly, getting closer to him and delicately grabbing his hand. Then she whispered his name like a secret, like she was afraid of being caught saying that, because, in truth, she wasn’t sure if she wanted Tommy to hear it or not.

But Thomas did, and he squeezed her hand like his life depended on it, returning the touch with such a force it took her aback. It was not like he never touched her, or that he didn’t show any sign of affection such as holding her hand, but that touch was different. It was acid, burning (Y/N)'s skin in seconds and leaving a million scars behind. Thomas touched her like she was the only one capable of saving him.

It was scary. It was exhilarating. It was a breath of heaven’s pure oxygen. It was suffocating as the smoke on a fire. And it was only a touch of hand.

But it said so many things, it said that he wanted her there, that he actually needed her there. And she was happy with being wanted, but being needed was something she could not even describe, it was overwhelming. It took (Y/N)’s breath away. It made her forget everything else she needed to do, because Thomas was there, all of him, in her kitchen, holding her hand and asking her to be there for him.

With care, she walked until she was behind him, her arms adjusting perfectly in his neck, allowing his head to find a rest in her belly, it was not often Thomas would let her be the one embracing him. Usually, he would be more vulnerable after they would have an entire night together, and he would lay down between her legs and relax on her chest while she caressed him. (Y/N) started to caress his hair, gently as she could, and she noticed that with time, Thomas was melting to her touch, a small smile grew on her lips, but she kept quiet. It was the first time she felt like she could have every single piece of him with her. He sighed as she took some strands of his face, inclining his head even more.

Thomas opened his eyes suddenly, and because of his moving, they were now staring right at each other. Her heart sank with what she could see, his eyes were dark and tired, hurt. Still, she didn't say anything, knowing it had to be him the one to initiate any type of conversation about what was happening, she only kept caressing his hair. After some seconds, he reached for her left hand and kissed it, making her smile again, he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, and she understood that it was his way of saying thank you. And, in a way, showing that he liked being near her like that. Although he seemed more calm, it didn't look like he would talk, and it was obvious how tired he was, so instead of asking anything, (Y/N) offered for them to sleep. He nodded, and they were quick to go to bed, a simple, but genuine kiss as a good night.

In the morning, he had all of a sudden woken her up with kisses on her neck — like last night hadn’t been so different, saying he wanted to take her somewhere. And yet, even though it was his idea to bring her, he hadn’t spoken since they got in here.

“I haven't come here in a long time.” He finally says something, making (Y/N) stare at him again. “My father…” Thomas takes a time to complete his sentence, “my father used to bring us here, sometimes, I hunted with him one day.”

“Hunted what?”

“A deer,” Thomas smirks, finally directing his look at her.

“You still didn’t answer me.” Thomas smirks only grows bigger at her words. “Why did you bring me here, Thomas?”

He keeps staring at her, she can’t tell everything he is thinking, but that he wants to say something and the words are hard to say, she is sure.

“I don’t know.” He confesses, and (Y/N) could have believed it if it wasn't for the hint of doubt in his tone, as if he didn't want to tell all the truth, but at the same time, didn't know all of it too.

She breathes deeply, she is trying really hard to understand him, she has been for quite some time, but he never truly gives her the chance. “It's that so?”

Thomas and her stare at each other for long seconds, it's not a battle this time, it's not her trying to reach him and him running away, (Y/N) feels as if she is already inside, but can't see what it is, and how could she? When he showed nothing before. She is not sure how to navigate this, what to search, what to ask, not this time, and that scares and frustrates her in equal amounts.

Thomas has these eyes that always make her feel naked, confused and alive. He sometimes looks at her like she is precious, like he cannot go a second without touching her, and she believes it, because his eyes are true, raw even. And then, he could look at her the way he is doing now, like she has just stabbed him, as if she has his heart in her hands to do whatever she wanted, and she decided to make him suffer. It wasn’t true, and it wasn’t fair, she didn’t have him like that, so why would he stare at her with all that devotion and agony?

She chuckles, lowly and dryly, and starts to walk, leaving him behind. (Y/N) doesn't know exactly what she is feeling at the moment, but everything is a little too much. She doesn't want to have to guess, it would be nice, for once, if he could finally say it out loud.

Stopping a few steps away from him, she finally takes a better look at everything in front of her, how beautiful that field is, how breathtaking the view of the sky is with no pollution from the city. The sun hadn’t completely risen yet, some shades of purple, pink, and orange decorated the sky. It looks just like a painting, she thinks, and it hurts a bit to realise that it would be a pretty day to feel good, for her and Tommy to be doing something enjoyable.

What bothers most is that it feels like there is just one last wall between them, and she had thought she would finally have him — but it's not simple, it never is. Thomas has to be the one to take that last step, he has to be the one to, at last, face what he is feeling. If she is the one to do it, to once again try to put pieces together to understand him, it will never change, he will only come home broken and expects mending. She wants more than that, she wants genuine words being said, wants to feel more than… a fragment.

She was afraid sometimes, what if the problem was not his past love, but her? Understanding that old feelings were hard to get rid of was easy, but to which point was Thomas protecting himself from any new feelings? Did it ever become a protection against her? (Y/N) would ask herself, what was he so afraid of? Afraid of having feelings for someone again? Or was he just afraid of… her? It scared her that maybe it wasn’t love and it’s disappointments that kept them apart, maybe it was her. And that she couldn’t fix.

She kicks some rocks by her feet and holds back another frustrated sigh, feeling like maybe she wasn't being fair, that her previous insecurities and frustrations might be influencing her. (Y/N) was trying so hard, to be seen, to be heard, to be loved. Because she loved him, honestly and easily, but had she not done this before? Tried to communicate, to understand? With others that now seem pale in comparison with Thomas, but still, love was a complicated thing. For her, it had always been, since the very beginning, since she had known what love was. It was not just Thomas, no, it would be unfair to say it was only him, perhaps she also needed time to deal with what was inside her. Yet she can't help to think it is different with him, there were others before, but he is the one that matters, he is the one she wants close at all times, the one she still stays close to even with all the hurt and words unsaid, waiting, wishing.

It was Tommy, after all, making her heart feel full and empty at the same time, occupying her thoughts, making her feel like things could get better someday.

If she just had the chance to properly talk to him… to cross all the bridges and understand, maybe then a conclusion would be made, one not based on assumptions she could not fully trust.

Nevertheless, here they are, turbulent thoughts clouding each one's mind. The surroundings are beautiful, the wind making leaves float in the air, both of them with their mouths clasped shut and minds running wild.

She can't see it, Thomas thinks, this time she doesn't seem to see the truth in his eyes. He notices the way she is shrinking inside herself, body almost crumbling, and he walks to her, he is tense when he hugs her from behind, arms keeping her in a tight embrace. Thomas knows she is fighting back tears by the way she lets herself go and relaxes her head against his chest as soon as he pulls her in. He can feel the way her body is fighting, half of her not willing to rest completely.

He never truly knows what to say, he did when he was with Grace, or almost always did, a clarity coming to him when he was about to do something stupid. With (Y/N) it is different, he knows how he feels, and she says the right thing, and he lets her read him, and they go on. Sometimes he has to say it, because she is tired, because she needs him to, or simply because he feels the urge to. But now it feels like they have reached a point that if Thomas keeps being silent, things will end.

Still, for a while they just stay in silence. Thomas keeps his touch steady, not entirely conscious that he is drawing patterns on her waist until she lets out a sigh that he recognises quickly by now, contentment, he can feel her relaxing a bit more. His hands wander a bit further, tracing her belly and up her chest, and as he remembers the night they met, his touch becomes heavier. For what felt like an eternity, he had wished to touch her. It was quick, she'd always say, how they met and how they ended up in a private room. She was not aware that for him, it had felt like a long waiting.

A party that he meant to go for business only, not even much interested in said business, at least not enough to try to do it in person, he had sent John to do it, but he got sick. Never before had Thomas been so happy with his brother being ill. Had he never gone to that party, he would not have met her. And it was a truth, even though he did not say it much, but a truth nonetheless, that since they met, she was constantly taking him out of his stupor. Since he had laid his eyes on her, he felt it, hands pulling him up, making him finally blink and wake up.

It was simple between them, it had been since the beginning, he had wanted her and there was no room for questioning if he would follow her, she had corresponded in the same intensity. Slowly their lives came in between, the days apart, the reality of each one, but even then, she only told Thomas she would be waiting, and there was no room for questioning if he would come back.

On the weeks with fewer visits from him, nothing changed, on the weeks he could see her more frequently, everything did.

Although his ghosts still haunted him, it was not the same as before, he could breathe now, push them away easier. But he had never been good with words when it came to this. To confess, he used words to get what he wanted, to conquer, long gone was the time words served as a way to connect and open himself. Grace had started to change that, easily as if she was a childhood love, she had picked up his heart on her hands. Thomas had not expected it, and when it hit him, he realised how truly in love he had been. For once his intuition had left him, after such a long time creating walls upon walls, they crumbled only to have to be raised again. He had also not expected it to change, to meet someone else, and yet, he did.

“What are you thinking?” She asks, head still resting against him.

“You.”

“You are thinking about me?” He can hear the small smile on her lips.

“Yes.”

“What about me?”

“The night we met.”

“Oh.” She chuckles, as if something suddenly made sense to her. “You were so pretty that night.”

Thomas holds back a smile, like he usually does when she says something like this. “I’d say you were more.”

(Y/N) laughs and turns to look at him, distancing herself enough so they could stare, he is relieved to see there are no tears in her eyes. “I was, but it didn’t last long after I met you.”

Her arms find a place on his shoulders as she hugs him, hiding her face on the crock of his neck. She radiates warmth, and Thomas welcomes it eagerly.

“It wasn’t all my fault.” Thomas says, dead serious, because sometimes she seems to forget they burn together, and she laughs again.

He feels when her body changes after a few moments, her breathing getting erratic, he prepares himself.

“Tom?” It's nothing more than a whisper.

“Yes.”

“I’ve been thinking, and…” something in him is begging for him to interrupt her, he knows what is coming, he can feel it. “I think we should, you know, stop seeing each other.”

He stays quiet, his arms never leave her body.

“Why?”

She takes a long time to answer, and Thomas starts to look for words he can say, things he can do to fix whatever needs to be fixed. He knows what it is, but as her silence stretches so much, he wonders if there is something more, if there is more he did and was unaware of it, that isn't hard to imagine. He feels, somehow, the moment she shivers, her arms seem to lose strength, her embrace weakening.

(Y/N) takes a deep breath before speaking,“because… because I feel like I’m Grace’s shadow. I feel like you met me when you were desperately needing someone to replace the emptiness that she left at your heart. It’s not that I’m the same as her, no…” she hides her face even more in his body, “it’s just you wanted someone to make you forget all the pain. And it happened that I was there to be your distraction. And at the beginning, I didn't care. But now, I do.”

She stops, Thomas knows she is fighting back tears, knows that she hates having to say all of this. Then she whispers, “I care because I’m in love with you, and being someone’s shadow for the man I love isn’t my biggest wish.”

What a treacherous path Thomas had walked them into. He could not deny it what he felt in the past was real, what he and Grace had shared was still haunting him, as his deceptions and frustrations always did. He never admitted, but for him, things like that never left his mind, he just pushed them away, kept them hidden. And still, things did not need to be like this, he did not have to act like that. He did… he liked (Y/N), not just that, he loved her even. A small and fragile thing at first, threatening to hurt him, not because it hurt, but because it made him finally move on. But now, a year later, it was not that small any more, he knew what he felt, knew that he searched for her when they were apart. And Thomas had no necessity in comparing what he felt before with what he felt now, he knew it would take time for something like that to happen again — to be true, he had not even thought it would happen again, but it did, it is happening.

Thomas blinks, watching as flowers and leaves were stirred by the wind, a hollow sound surrounding them. There is so much more he probably doesn't know, more things she thinks and has kept to herself.

“You’re not Grace’s shadow.” He says in a whisper, his voice betraying him. It sounds weak, and he wanted to convey how strong his affection is. Nonetheless, he hears her sighing in relief, distancing herself from him a bit, but still not looking at his eyes.

“You love her Tom,” (Y/N) states, “you’re still deeply in love with her and all you lived by her side. If I’m not her shadow, then I’m a mere ghost of what she was.” She raises her eyes to his face, he is already staring, always staring at her.

She looks at him with so much resignation that Thomas is almost convinced he cannot change her mind.

“I’m not angry or mad or upset about this. I’m just sad.” She says it then, voice low, Thomas knows it is because she is holding tears back. “And it doesn’t matter how much I love you, I don’t want to be sad, to feel miserable every time I don’t act like someone I don't even know. I just don’t want that life for me, even if that means losing you.”

He looks away, not being able to stare at her eyes at the moment, not when he doesn't have the right words to say. It was not his intention for it to reach this point, for her to think he wants a copy of Grace. He knows he has to say it, explain himself, but it is like being paralysed. It's the kiss on his cheek that makes him finally blink, it is the way her lips are so delicate against his skin, a goodbye. She leaves his arms, turning around to go back to the car, but he holds her wrist immediately, (Y/N) stops, looking at him with knitted eyebrows.

Thomas takes in all of her at that moment, the determination clear in her eyes, eyes he has grown so accustomed to, that do not search him unless he opens himself, eyes that love him, tender him. Eyes that he cannot forget even when she is not with him. He looks at her lips, lips that have said the words he needed to hear, the ones he did not want to hear, lips that have kissed him with so much passion that he was able to forget the world for some hours. She has, slowly, found a place inside of him, roots with her name overtaking his chest. Her hair flutters around her face, she seems tired, (Y/N) offers no more resistance on her face, only resignation, but she does not pull away either. He engraves every single detail of her in his mind.

The words are not helping him, he cannot think of anything good enough to say, it is like she wiped his mind, leaving nothing but thousands of pictures of her behind. Of every moment she has used her words not to pry him open, but to convince him to do so, every moment she has held him in place instead of insisting on dragging him somewhere else.

It was at the moment, the sun shining brightly, orange light taking over the sky, making her skin seem warm to the touch, that he finally realised. It had always been simple between them, he did not need to complicate it right now, there was no need for elaborate words, only the truth. She wanted something straight-forward, (Y/N) was just asking for it to be real.

“I don’t want her,” Thomas says, words finally appearing. “I don’t want her like I want you. Not any more.”

And it was true, he had loved Grace, had felt something he thought himself incapable of after the war, and yet, it passed. She had betrayed him, and he still felt it then, sometimes still feels it now, but it passed.

She gives a step forward, “but you still love her, right?”

He allows himself to remember Grace's face, her tender touch, it was involuntary, the care that comes with it. But there is also the pang of heartbreak, the understanding and the sense of finality, there is nothing he can do to go back in time, and now, he does not want it any more. He has (Y/N), she mended what was broken. He takes a step towards her as well, hand tightening even more around her wrist, he wants her now more than he ever did.

“Yes.” he admits, because it is also true that (Y/N) can wring secrets from him. “But she’s past.”

“Is she, Tom?” She gives in a deep breath, “if that’s so, you’re a man living your days in the past. You’re always with her, even when you try to be here with me.”

“No.” he denies, low and firm, “It’s not me living in the past, (Y/N).”

“What is it then?”

He wants to say it at that moment, to confess she haunts him, that his past always does — who he was before war, who he became during it. It is a part of him now. But that is not his nature any more, to confess this easily, it takes time, and he has said more today than he ever did before. Instead, he looks at her, knowing that when nothing comes out of his mouth, that it's what denounces him, his eyes.

She reads him again. Thomas knows, he always knows when she understands. Maybe it is the look on her face, he has never been able to identify what it was, but something changed when she could get him.

“I know it ain't easy,” (Y/N) says, getting closer to him, she puts a hand on his face, “it seems to haunt you, Thomas.”

She is close now, enough that he can feel the warmth of her body again. Thomas lets himself relax against her, his hand still on her wrist, he can feel her pulse now, slightly accelerated.

“I feel left out sometimes,” she whispers, “as if she is right behind me, and I am echoing her words, or at least the words you wanted her to say.”

Thomas nods, “you are not like her.”

(Y/N) seems surprised at that, “what was she like?”

But that is too much. “You are different,” he establishes, firm enough for her to understand he does not want to talk about Grace like that. It's easier to just forget, sharing this feels strange, describing how he loved her — because it would not be just an impartial view of how she was. “And your words too, you do not echo her in my mind.”

You fixed it. Erased what hurt was left on the surface.

(Y/N) squint her eyes at him, he lets her stare into his eyes, lets her understand.

“If we…” she cleans her throat, “if you try, could this work?”

He bites his tongue to say that is already working, because yes, for him, it is, but she is opening herself to him and saying she is hurting.

“What do you want?” He asks, instead.

“You.” (Y/N) shrugs, “I know we can't be each other one and only. But it would be good if you opened yourself more, I cannot always read your mind.”

He must've frowned at that, because she immediately completes, “I know it's different for you, how you open up. I sometimes wish for words, it's true, but it is not what you can give me and I know that.” And although she understood it wrong — he was just surprised when she said she could not always read him —, he was happy to hear that.

Thomas puts a hand on her waist, pulling her and closing the distance that was left, he can feel her now, that smell that calms him every time they sleep together, he tightens his grip. There is not a world where he would refuse this, it is surprising, sometimes even slightly scary and annoying, how she managed to awaken him when he fought so much to numb himself. But he always comes back to her, always knocks on her door, because it is stupidity to refuse her, push her away, only a mad man would do that. He consumes her instead, goes to her house, drinks from her lips with such thirst it is as if he is famished, and it is never enough. Whatever she wants, he thinks, whatever she wants to stay.

She is looking at him with an indecipherable expression, but he cares not at the moment, he will have plenty of time to reflect on everything she said today, to understand her even more. Now, he searches for her lips, brushing his own against her, wanting to feel her before making the real move. He is not one for teasing, every time he does this, it is because the waiting feel as good as the actual kiss, the way he can feel her skin shivering, the way she whimpers slightly — because they are the same when it comes to this, she also has an insatiable hunger. They finally kiss, then, desperate to feel each other, it always feels like they are one at this moment, and nothing else matters.

She is the one to break the kiss, only to look at him and whisper, “I love you.”

Before Thomas can think of answering, her lips are crashing against his again, demanding, taking, and he answers it. He almost chuckles when one of her hands find her way to get under his shirt, but his own body leans into it in such a fast manner he knows he would be laughing at himself too.

Since the first time she touched him like this, he knew he had cursed himself. He knew he would be damned, growing hunger for that, fonder for her. She had scared him, and yet, proved herself to be exactly what he needed.

He broke the kiss this time, not being able to contain the smirk when he saw her drunk eyes, even though he was for sure laughing at himself too.

“I love you.”

She melts against him, smiles brightly. He does not know why he waited so long to say it, but he is usually like this, takes too long to say something important.

“You’re not her.” He finds himself saying, surprising the both of them, “you’re not her shadow.”

She nods, Thomas sees her blooming right in front of him. He feels something settling in his chest, his mind getting quieter, a miracle for its own, but even more special when he feels it because of her.

Please. He thinks as he gives a peck on her lips. Don’t ever say you’re a mere ghost, when I love you this much.

The wind was still stirring the flowers and leaves of the field, and the field was still the same, same as the sun shining in the sky. But somehow, everything seemed more right.

[sfucked]

Ofc you can't expect people to read your mind, but I posted 2 back-to-back vents on the secret blog and it summoned my partner for snuggles soo maybe y'all just gotta keep looking

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

you are so whimsical i qant to check out this mdzs (..??) because of your whimsical nature thank you sorry im very high and your art moved me emotionally

This is simultaneously the sweetest and funniest thing someone has sent me, thank you.

[topicaltropic]

oops! all wips

[darabeatha]

SERVAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAL!!!!!!!!

[alasy]

advices are welcome because i ✨dont know anything anymore✨

[everony]

I hate being complimented for my independence or initiative because I'd rather do things myself than ask for help.

Like, wtf do I say? How the hell am I supposed to respond to that?

"Thanks, it's a trauma response" ????????

[tortademaracuya]

It feels undeserving 👍

[httpiastri]

Hi! I just read let's knock everyone's hats off and i loved it ❤️ just as someone who identifies as non binary, i just wanted to let you know that reader is described as daniel's girlfriend which is fine but the title saying it was a gender neutral reader, it caught me off guard so i was wondering if you could change it to fem!reader? I don't mean to be rude or cause harm and I really hope you won't read it like that because it isn't my intention at all, it's just a bit discouraging to think that i finally found a gender neutral fic for my fav driver and then to realize that it isn't really a gender neutral fic 😅 again I don't want to upset you or anything I just thought I'd let you know but you're of course free to delete this, I really hope you won't be offended, I assure it isn't my goal. Also sorry if english is a bit off, it isn't my first language 😭 anyway i did enjoy your writing and I hope you'll keep on writing, it was great ❤️

hello! thank you for your message. i’d like to say that i am really sorry for my mistake. i was really tired when i posted the danny blurb yesterday, and i had no energy to even come up with a title nor a summary (it still has no summary…..), so when i was gonna write the genre, pairing and such i just copied the one from another blurb. i must’ve forgotten in the moment that i had mentioned the reader as his girlfriend, so i just didn’t change it… you’re not rude or offensive or anything (and your english is great, don’t worry about it!), thank you pointing out the mistake so that i could fix it. again, i apologize!

thank you for your sweet words, hope you have a great day ❤️

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Just read my diary from when I was 16-years-old and uh… does someone wanna check in on that kid orrrrrrr…

[zemnarihah]

ooooo just got to tell this HUGE asshole at work that he was wrong i am going to be riding this high for a week

[gothiccat69]

Sorry mate, misunderstood.

I'm glad I could explain clearly enough for you to understand.

I don't want another very long post, so I'm putting everything else I have to say in the tags.