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#we’d still find ways to see each other if not every day then at least every month

grapejuicestyless · 5 months

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What A Waste

Harry Styles x fem!reader

Summery: You and Harry swore that you would one day marry each other if you were to grow up and not already have a lover. Yet, when the time comes and the two of you are wed, Harry cannot let himself enjoy it.

ANGST

I’m standing at the alter, hands clasped together and eyes looking towards the door at the end of the aisle. Yet my hands do not shake, and my cheeks dk not ache with the pain only a genuine smile can cause. My heart does not pound out of my chest because I am not in love. The girl coming down the aisle is nothing more but a pawn in the grand scheme of things.

Maybe once, I would’ve held those feelings towards her, but our blood has since ran cold. Any fond memories tainted by our final goodbye.

She wasn’t very interesting to look at. Maybe, at least if my heart couldn’t love her, I could have something nice to look at. Something delicate, pretty. But her lips were pouty and her eyes held clouds over them. There was nothing attractive about the solemn face that hid her beauty.

When her hands hold mine, and her face is just inches from my own, I find it within myself to recite the vows I’d written for her. Carefully constructed to sound like a true loving husband, but with no true emotion that not even she, in her most oblivious state would ever have accounted for.

When she read hers, I saw her hands shaking. Her lip trembling and the furrow in her brow as she stumbled on her words. How embarrassing, how nervous she was. Acting like it was all real. Finding a way to make theater into reality.

How softly, she told me she would. Love me forever, take care of me and support me from the sidelines. Even softer, she mumbled about how even when she was riddled with arthritis, sick and tired, she would still twirl my hair the way I lived when we were children. When I kissed her, I felt nothing. When I pulled away, her smile could have fooled me. How genuinely happy she looked. But I remember the way she left me, and I remember how it could never truly be real. And I remember why I hate her, how I could never love her. Not even a little bit, not even at all.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“H?” She calls me by the nickname she gave to me when we were younger. I don’t realize that even now, twenty years later her mind had still clung to it as if it would be any importance to her anymore.

“Don’t call me that.” I’m bitter, I hate the way it sounds so sweet on her tongue. I hate the way her smile falls when I reprimand her, and most of all I hate the way I’m forever bound to her. With all the money in the world, nothing could separate us, no matter how hard I tried.

She rubs her arms, wearing her fluffy pink pajama pants and a shirt thats reads, “We think Harry had the X-Factor” so cracked, it almost doesn’t even read correctly anymore. The words die on her tongue, look at what I found? I see her enthusiasm melt away. When her eyes drift to the unmade bed and her feet start to move, I speak again.

“No.” Her confused face infuriates me. How could she not understand the justification of my cruelty.

“Your room is down the hall.” The one with the squeaky mattress and dusty floorboards. The one with photos of my old house, with the old garden and the old cats. It’s empty and the heat doesn’t work very well. But the cold from her heart wouldn’t mind it, truly.

I hate how her hair lingers on every surface. I hate how her perfume wafts into the bathroom while I shower. And now, more than all, I hate how she looks at me with rounded eyes glossed over almost too innocently.

But she is not an idiot. We both know it. Silence speaks volumes, I know she pieces together the puzzle as she walks away. The shirt hanging loosely off of her shoulder and her face hidden from my view. She never looks back. She doesn’t say goodnight.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“Do you think we’d be soulmates in another universe?” I ask, tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. The fresh England summer air hot and humid. I say it with dirt on my skin, grass stuck to my knees. I pull at the ribbons in her hair and watch how she smiles. We were only children then. Fourteen and convinced we were all grown up.

“Why not in this one?” She asked honestly, looking at me with so much truth in her eyes, I believed her. And the way her hand fit into mine, I could feel my heart pounding. And I knew then, she was the one for me. The way my body reacted, how quickly my heart pounded so violently, I thought it might burst from my chest. Too young to be kissing and too old to not think about it, we stare at each other in the wet grass in the backyard and wait for the final sunset to disappear into the horizon, my eyes looking into hers and her hand in my hair.

For a long while, I believed what she did. We were soulmates, we were bound together. Always by my side, always encouraging me. She makes shirts for my family while I start my career. She helps me rehearse my songs and her voice makes me believe that it should be her on stage, not me.

When the band is formed, and One Directions fate is sealed into greatness, I spend the last summer of normalcy singing in the fields and holding her hand like real good friends would. Her hand in my hair again, twirling it between her finger and her thumb. I want to kiss her, but the smile on her face makes me too nervous to. I think she has the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. I think she is the prettiest girl I’ll ever see.

“When we are twenty eight and not married yet, will you marry me?” She asks me in the last week of that August. It confuses me, it’s such a random age. It’s so young. But the idea of getting to be with her forever makes my cheeks flush.

“Why twenty eight? Why not forty?” She laughs, says something on how I’ll find it silly. For a girl with as much potential as her to wish for something so silly.

“I want to have a warm house with a soft bed. A dog and two cats and children. I want two boys and a girl. I want a white fence to keep them in from the street and little family trips where we can all laugh and be happy. And with all of that, I hope I am a writer still. I hope I have critically acclaimed novels and a Nobel Peace Prize.” And I don’t think her dreams are stupid. And even though her dreams are so hard to make real, the way she dreams about it out loud makes me believe it will happen to her.

When we leave the grassy field that night, I have no idea it will be the last I’ll see of her for a while. All I know is in the morning my mother has a solemn look on her face and a letter in her hand. When she sits me down to read it, all I hear beyond the violent ringing is my mother telling me she is gone. She left, only leaving behind her empty promises and a tainted memory of what I once believed to be something so pure and precious.

I don’t see the letter. Maybe if I had, I would have known it was in her father’s handwriting. And my dear Y/n hadn’t left me because the beating of her heart lost its rhythm in me, but because she was forced away into a house that would never be her home.

…………………………………………………………………………………

“God, you are a self-righteous prick.” She huffs, quickly untying the apron from her waist, letting the blue and yellow fabric fold over her hips and be discarded on the shiny tile floors. Not yet scuffed from the lack of dancing. Never truly loved. But I wouldn’t know what the difference was. I stopped learning how to love when love walked out on me.

“And you must be a victim!” She sticks out her tongue and groans, rolling her eyes and walking down the hall. The lights are dim, candles burning. It’s her own touch. She claimed she hated the big lights. The smaller ones made it much more homely. I didn’t care enough to fight her then, but as I stumble around I wish I had.

“I gave you everything! I gave you a roof to live under. All the money on the goddamn earth and all the glory! And yet you are ungrateful!” I spit at her with venom I don’t even know I possess.

“Oh my god, you don’t even know me!” She turns, and her eyes are crazy, hair wild. “My own husband doesn’t even know me!” She says it like it hurts her.

“Don’t call me that.” I tell her firmly. I try not to look at the rock on her finger, how it taunts me.

“What does it embarrass you? I hope it does. I hope all of your friends tease and taunt you for marrying the girl you never wanted, but had to have!” She laughs then, stepping closer to me, her finger in my chest.

“I will not let a loveless marriage strip me of my heart and my soul. You can hate me, but you should know better than to think you would have any power to strip me of my humanity.” She said it with such power, her voice shook with the same fierceness she felt in her bones. And yet, her anger didn’t lead me astray. For the first time in our loveless marriage, I felt a twinge of guilt for the innocent girl who I let bleed so gruesomely on the floor of our own home.

“Believe it or not, I am not the cruel witch you make me out to be. I am a woman, the same woman who loved you all those years ago. I still dream of having children and cats and a dog. A damn white picket fence! But, what a waste! Our agreement! If it could have at least given me that, or god forbid it had brought us together! I am still the same woman who loved you, and it is clear to me you are not the same man. You are bitter and I pity you because you must be so unhappy to feel the need to be that way.”

“And what else? Do you still dream of a medal in your honor for your writing? Or has that woman finally grown up to smell the roses and see that the world isn’t always built just for her.” I should’ve backed down, the moment she showed vulnerability, but for some reason I could not shut my mouth. I needed the last word.

“I outgrew those dreams the second I married you.” If my heart wasn’t shattered completely then, it had been now. And why? Over some words a girl I claimed to hate had to share?

“What a shame too. A book full of stories of us destined to the fire on our wedding night. And even if I were to write again, who would read about how you broke my heart? And how I continue to let you stomp it out until there is nothing but the dust that remains.” When she leaves, her dress sways behind her. She’s wearing my sweatshirt and she has the same white ribbons in her hair she had all those years ago. She never really did lie to me, did she.

She was only a girl. Ribbons tied into her hair and a white dress with lace so frilly, it resembled her wedding dress. A dress I never appreciated. I wondered if I looked into the old box of photos of the day we were destined for failure, if I would find any photos of her in all her innocence. Or, if that same smile she greeted me with before she knew me would be tainted with the same hate I bred inside of her through my own negligence.

I regret every feeling I’d ever felt towards her. How I called her plain, uninteresting, unlikable. The realization of this guilt hits so hard, it is undeniable. I feel this way because I have succeeded. I have crushed the heart of a girl who continued to love me through my greed. And I know I have succeeded through the look in her eyes and the frown lines by her lips. The lines that once represented deep smiles gone in an instant.

She only solidifies what I know when I see her suitcase by the door. Practically empty, nothing in this house is truly hers. She has gone from one loveless house to another, not yet finding her home. Not yet living her dream.

“You don’t need to divorce me, but I can’t stay. Not now. Not when I still love you. I can’t come back until every piece of you is gone. Maybe then, your insults won’t hurt so much, and we could get along.” She smiles softly, but it’s so fake it hurts my heart.

I don’t stop her, but I wish I had. This house isn’t a home without her. If I could change it, I would. I still loved her, and thats what makes it all sting so much more. The tormenting, the pain and the tears. All a result of two soulmates bound to be together, yet one of them refused to let it happen.

I hope she’ll come back soon. Sooner than last time. And I hope her heart still yearns for me. I’ll propose to her for real this time, not just under circumstance. And when she walks down the aisle, I’ll shake just as badly as she did the first time. And we can laugh about our experience in our first try at rekindling our flame, and we can finally have a house with a fence and two boys and a girl, a dog and two cats. And she can write about how wonderful her life is and win every award there is to win. And I will stand beside her like a good husband because I love her.

I will spend each hour she is gone wishing for her to come back. For the ache to ease itself. And what a waste. If only I could write a good song about it without ranting and going off into small tangents. If only I could’ve done it right. If only it could have brought us together.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #yn x harrystyles #fine line harry styles #hslot23 #harry styles #harry's house album

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cozage · 1 month

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The Moss that Grew in Gloom

Chapter 6: A Night Not Spent Alone

Start From Beginning | Next Chapter | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Word Count: 1.3k Characters: female reader x Zoro --

Zoro knew how to drink.

You weren’t sure how he had such a high tolerance. You weren’t sure why. And frankly, you didn’t want to know.

But as you stumbled your way up the stairs, two bottles of wine flowing through your system, anytime you tripped, Zoro’s strong arm was there, grabbing you and holding you steady. He had drunk at least twice as much as you, and yet he was still solid and confident.

“I can make it to my room,” you slurred. “You’ll get lost if I don’t lead the way.”

“I’ve caught you 5 times since we started up these stairs,” Zoro laughed back. “There’s no way I’m letting you go the rest of the way alone.”

You caught yourself looking at his face as he spoke, noticing the soft pink that now touched his cheeks. His face seemed more relaxed. He was more happy and carefree. His eyes had a shining to them, full of light and a touch of mischief.

And he was staring right back at you.

Your heart pounded in your chest. Too long. You all had been staring at each other for too long. You should’ve said something, made some kind of snarky joke or comment back to him, but your mind was blank. Every time you reached for a thought, it vanished. There was only his slightly pink cheeks and his enticing gray eyes. You couldn’t look away.

Zoro looked away first, clearing his throat and blinking a few times before he was able to speak. “I was planning on training a bit, so it’s really okay if I get lost.”

“I said I’d help you!” You started walking again, trying to get up to your room. You really shouldn’t have drank so much so quickly.

Zoro chuckled. “I don’t know how much help you-”

“Don’t finish that sentence!” You gasped. “I can help you just fine. Even if I am slightly intoxicated.”

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Slightly?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Shut up. I’m fine.”

“If you say so.” He shrugged, falling into step beside you. “I could use some pointers.”

You blinked, losing your momentum for a moment, but Zoro was right next to you, holding your arm to keep you from falling forward. He chuckled slightly, but didn’t comment on your clumsiness.

But it wasn’t the alcohol that made you stumble. It was his words. He had asked for help so casually. Like you two had been doing this forever. Like he didn’t mind asking for help.

“I’ve never been here with guests without my-Mihawk,” you admitted. You still couldn’t find the courage to confess he was your father.

Zoro chuckled, thinking your mistake was due to the wine. “I don’t think he was here when I arrived.”

You bit your lip. “That was different. I mean he’s never left me alone with…strangers.”

He glanced over at you, surprised. “Do you think we’re strangers? We’ve lived on the same island for a few months. I figured we’d at least…” He trailed off, unsure where to go.

You tried to backtrack on your previous statement. “We’ve lived together for months, sure. But we’ve hardly spoken before two days ago. You were so busy defeating every ape on this island, that we’ve never really…talked.”

“Defeating the baboons is the only way to get off the island, isn’t it?”

You nodded.

“How many more do you have left?” Zoro asked. He was attempting to be casual, but you knew he was curious.

“I already told you. I’ve beat them all.” You smirked, knowing the smugness in your voice was easy for him to hear.

He scoffed. “Then why are you still here?”

You stopped walking, trying to understand his question. “My life is here.”

Zoro stopped effortlessly next to you, his brows knit together in confusion. “But there’s the whole world to see.”

“I’m content here.” with my father, you added silently.

“You’re safe here,” Zoro shot back. “You’re one of the best swordsmen in the world and you’re hiding on this island. Why?”

You shrugged. “I haven’t found anything that’s made me want to leave.” You started walking again. “Not yet.”

Zoro nodded absentmindedly. You thought you could feel his gaze linger on you a few times, but you refused to meet his eyes.

The two of you silently continued to your room, Zoro occasionally holding out an arm to allow you to steady yourself. You took it when offered, but you never held it for too long. Even if you wanted to.

When you got to your room you motioned for Zoro to come in. “You can practice on the mat in the corner. I’ll talk you through it.”

Zoro was clearly skeptical, but he entered the room and sat on the mat as you crawled into bed. You watched him stretch and begin to settle into his typical position, and finally his eyes landed on you.

He really was handsome. You had seen him half-naked before while you were rebandaging his wounds, but you hadn’t thought anything of it. But now…maybe you could blame the wine, or the soft look in his eyes under the candlelight, but you longed for that opportunity again. To feel his muscles contract and rest under your touch once more.

“Now what should we do?” he asked, looking at you with those usually hard slate-gray eyes. They appeared softer tonight. It had to be the wine.

Your head spun, but you managed to let out a breath. “What?”

“To train,” he clarified, finally breaking his gaze from you and clearing his throat. “How can I put my armament haki into my blades?”

You rolled your eyes. He was always trying to get to the end without any regard for the middle. “Concentrating and building your stamina, remember?”

His eyes flicked back and locked onto you, full of mischief. “I have good stamina, remember?”

Something about his tone had your core tightening, and the words were out before you could think twice.

“Prove it.” Your entire body froze when you registered your own words, and even Zoro’s eyes widened for a moment.

He quickly reverted his face back to calm, and arched a brow in question. “How so?”

Your throat felt like it was closing up. You weren’t sure when the temperature had risen in the room, but you wanted to rip away your bedsheets and pull your clothes off.

You wanted to pull Zoro’s clothes off too, if you were being honest with yourself.

But you couldn’t. This was Roronoa Zoro here with you. A man who wanted to best and defeat your own father. You had to diffuse the situation. This flirtatious mood was only because you were both drunk, and you certainly didn’t want to make your circumstance worse tomorrow morning. If things were awkward with Zoro, you’d have to resort to associating with Perona…

You had been gawking at him and his comment for entirely too long.

“30 minutes of armament haki in both of your hands, and then I’ll teach you the next step.” You rolled over so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. “Wake me when you're successful.”

The only way you’d get through these next few days without your father around was to be just as cold as him. You couldn’t be involved with Zoro. It was too messy to even think about. Better to be cold and distant.

But when you fell asleep, your dreams were filled with the distinct color of moss-green.

#one piece #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #cozage #✧˚zoro✧˚

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Hi 👋🏻 how are you?

I was wondering if your prompts were opened to make a request? If so, could I please request prompt no.1 from domestic prompts ( I can't find the remote/I'm going to kill you) with eddie munson?

All i can picture is Eddie and his love who have a little baby who is obsessed with a certain kids song and they finally get the baby to sleep but somehow the song starts to play and it's a mad scramble to shut it off before the baby hears 😂😂

Thanks for reading my ask. Hope you have a lovely day 😊

AN | No, but domestic Eddie makes me so🥺🥰

Warnings | Language

Pairing | Dad!Eddie x Mom!Reader

Word Count | 2.1k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were lying on the couch, trying your very best not to fall asleep, despite the fact that your eyes were growing heavier with each passing moment. Having an eight month old baby would do that to you. You faintly heard Eddie’s soft voice from down the hall, speaking gently to his son. You hated asking him for help to put the baby down, especially when he’d just gotten home from work, but there were some days when you just needed the help. You swore that Eddie was little Benji’s favorite parent at the moment.

And Eddie, good and kind-hearted Eddie, was never one to say no to you. You were fairly positive that he hadn’t said the word no once to you while you were dating, definitely did not while you were pregnant, and wasn’t about to start now. But you also knew that he loved spending every moment that he could with Benji and he’d never complain about helping.

Despite your best efforts, you quickly succumbed to sleep’s siren call and closed your eyes. It would only be a few minutes, and surely not hard would come from that. You were out and snoring within moments, starfished on the couch by the time Eddie came back. He had been about to say something but changed his mind when he saw you.

He came over and crouched down to press a kiss to your forehead before putting the blanket from the back of the couch on top of you. You made a small sound of content as you burrowed into the warmth that the blanket provided. Your husband made an affectionate sound, brushing some stray locks of hair out of your face. He was happy to know that you and your son were able to get some rest.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the time you woke up, you were sure that only a few minutes had passed. But when you looked outside you could see that it was dark and the warm lights in the living room and kitchen had been turned on. You rubbed at your tired eyes as you stood up and padded your way towards the kitchen. You could smell something delicious cooking already, and your heart panged at the fact that Eddie had taken it upon himself to make dinner.

The sight that met your eyes was enough to make you practically melt then and there. Eddie was standing by the stove, the baby carrier strapped to his chest, along with your small son. The baby was cooing happily as Eddie nodded and spoke back to him as though he totally understood what he was trying to convey. You were silent, but he must have sensed you because he looked over and his face broke into a huge grin.

“Hi baby,” his voice was so soft as you made your way over to your boys. Eddie leaned over and pressed the softest of kisses to your cheek which caused you to make a small sound of happiness. He looked at you as though you had hung all the stars in the night sky, and it made you feel like he was still falling in love with you all over again. He was, but he didn’t need to tell you, “how was your nap?”

“Unintended,” you shook your head at your own indiscretion, “but helpful. I feel at least somewhat rested now. Thank you, Eddie. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be just fine,” he insisted as Benji cooed happily at you. It was the chubby cheeks and big brown eyes that made you melt, “I’m afraid we’d be in trouble if it was the other way around.”

“Dramatic,” you teased, “can I help with anything?”

“You can help by sitting and watching,” he gave you a firm look that clearly said not to argue with him. Besides, you knew better than that by now. You raised your hand in a mock salute before sitting down at the kitchen table. Before you could even think about getting a drink, Eddie was on it and poured you a big glass of fresh water, “or can I interest you in a cherry cola?”

“Water’s perfect,” you sighed wistfully, “thank you, my love.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” he played off your praise, but realistically it was making his cheeks warm up. Eddie cleared his throat before turning his attention back to the stove and his son who was watching him with curious eyes, “I had an idea.”

“Oh no,” you snorted in amusement as Eddie put his hand on his hips and raised an eyebrow at you. He definitely learned that stance from Steve, mother hen that he was, “when’s the last time you had a good idea? When you decided to knock me up?”

“That happened to be a very good idea, thank you very much,” he playfully huffed before pointing at the baby strapped to his chest, “we happened to make a very cute son!”

“That we did,” you held up your hands in mock surrender, “your very cute little mini me. Anyway, enlighten me dear husband, what is your grand idea?”

“I was thinking that this weekend we can get away,” his eyes brightened as he spoke, “just the two of us. Maybe we can stay at a hotel for the weekend and go explore more of the city, and just…relax. Steve and Nance are more than willing to watch him - or we can bring him too if we decide we’re not ready to leave him.”

Relaxing. That was something you weren’t familiar with these days….not with an eight-month-old. Not that you were complaining of course, you love him more than anything but man. It was rough sometimes. Your eyes started to sting as you tried to keep your lip from trembling at the thoughtful gesture. All you could do was nod at him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he looked concerned for a moment but you shook your head.

"That's just…so thoughtful of you," you dabbed at your sleeves with the sleeve of your sweater, "I think that sounds perfect. Yes, please, let’s do it.”

“Alright,” he smiled that soft smile that you adored beyond words, “let’s do it! And sorry, maybe, bubba but mama and I might need some alone time. Not that we don’t love you.”

“Eddie,” you laughed gently, the sound going straight to his heart. What more could he have asked for other than this? His wife and his son that he loved more than anything? You went over and stood behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder and reaching to gently ruffle Benji’s soft hair, “he can’t understand us!”

“You never know,” he ever so lightly pinched the baby’s cheek, “he could be some sort of little secret genius. Understanding every word and slowly plotting how to take us down and run the world!”

“You’ve been reading too many fantasy stories again,” you kissed his cheek, “such an active imagination! Hopefully he learns that from you.”

“Maybe so,” he admitted sheepishly, “but that doesn’t mean our baby boy isn’t the smartest, huh Benji?”

“Well, he does like those kids' songs - the ones that teach them letters and numbers,” you mused, “maybe he is a little genius.”

“Is the animal one still his favorite?” you groaned dramatically at Eddie’s question, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

“I’ve had to listen to that song about a million times by now,” you grabbed utensils and plates to set the table, “I think I’ve got it memorized too.”

“Could be worse-”

“How?”

“At least it’s not like…Metallica or something,” he teased, “but he’s still a little young right now. But don’t worry, bub, we’ll get you there soon enough.”

“Eddie.”

“I’ll wait till he’s a year old!”

“Edward.”

“Fine - two years.”

“We’ll see,” you sighed, an affectionate sound of fond exasperation, “no promises either way!”

“I’ll take what I can get,” he grinned coquettishly.Yeah. You loved this dork so very much.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“He’s down,” you offered your husband a sleepy smile as you padded back into the living room after getting Benji down for some sleep. Eddie held open his arms to you, making grabby hands at you. You made your way over to him on the couch and almost collapsed his strong arms, “he seemed sleepy so hopefully he’ll be down for a bit.”

“I’ll handle the next wake up,” he promised and you thanked your lucky stars that you had a husband such as Eddie. You knew that a lot of men, unfortunately, would not have been as helpful or hands on as he was. He was a wonderful father; he’d learned a lot from Wayne and made sure that Benji had every bit of love that Eddie hadn’t received as a child, “you deserve some rest too.”

“What about you?” you shuffled in his arms so you were looking at him, reaching up and gently ghosting your fingers along his jaw, “you deserve rest too. This isn’t easy on either of us.”

“But he’s worth it,” as if his body was betraying him, he couldn’t stifle his yawn.

“He is,” you pressed soft kisses all over his cheeks, causing him to giggle and flush a rosy pink, “and so are you.”

“Baby-”

And then it happened so quickly that it almost didn’t seem real. That song, that damned song, came on the television. You’d been so preoccupied that evening, neither of you had changed the TV off the children’s channel. It started playing, a grating voice singing about different animals as the two of you exchanged a horrified look. You knew that the baby would hear it, even in his sleep.

“Eddie!” you grimaced, “change it!”

“I-I can’t find the remote,” he looked around the coffee table and on the floor, but didn’t see the remote anywhere. You jumped off the couch and looked for it, also coming up empty handed.

“I’m going to kill you,” you hissed softly, “affectionately.”

“I’m sorry,” he did the best thing he could think of in the moment and went to the TV and hit the power button, turning it off instead. You both breathed a sigh of relief; crisis averted, “shit - that was close.”

“I saw my life flash before my eyes,” you exhaled with a shaky laugh, “I was sure he was going to wake up.”

“Me too,” the two of you paused, still and quiet as church mice as you listened for any sound that would indicate that your baby was awake. But nothing reached your eyes from down the hall or through the baby monitor, “thank goodness.”

“Seriously,�� he grinned sheepishly, “I, ugh, found the remote.”

“Oh?”

“It was under the cushion,” he pulled it free and waved it around, “well, either way. We got there just in time.”

“Eddie?” you plopped down on the floor next to him. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “I…I think I want it to be just us this weekend. Does that make me a horrible mother?”

“No, baby,” he shushed you softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “not at all. It’s normal to feel like that - to want a little alone time. It’s up to you, princess. If you think you’re - we’re - ready to spend a night or two without him, then we will. But if not, we can take him.”

“You always make everything so easy,” you pressed your forehead against his, “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” he brushed his lips against yours, all saccharine and sweet, “so, so much.”

Before either of you could see anything else, soft whimpers and coos met your ears. Eddie kissed your forehead before you could even more, “I’ve got him, baby. Just stay here and relax.”

“Thank you,” he gave your hand a gentle squeeze as you watched him, “love you, handsome!”

“Love you, beautiful!”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #st

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heyidkyay · 2 months

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And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eighteen

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way?

Authors Note: Hey!! Finally here with another part! This one took a while to write but it's here now. Hoping you enjoy it:)

> Last update: look back here if you'd like!

Masterlist

He’d been pacing on the phone for quite a while now.

Back and forth up the long and narrow pavement sat outside of the small cafe we’d chosen just off the highstreet. His feet skimmed the curb every few steps, I noted, his brow furrowed and lips pursed too whenever he rattled something back to whoever it was on the other end.

“Eggy, mama?”

I blinked at the sudden voice, tearing my eyes away from the window and Matty, and back over to where my food-happy toddler sat in the adjoining highchair.

With a fond smile, I shook my head at his proffered bit of hard boiled egg.

See, Matty had fancied a couple of soldiers when we’d first walked in, forgetting all about his earlier promises of bacon, and Teddy had unsurprisingly followed his lead. Looking down at his plate now, I was pleasantly pleased to find that he’d eaten the majority of it.

“I’m okay, Teds. Thank you though.” I told him, wiping a few breadcrumbs from his cheek with a napkin before tickling the underneath of his chin, “You’re such a sweet boy, you know?”

He bared his teeth at me in a giant grin, “Very much, ta.”

Chuckling lightly at his silly reply, I shook my head once more, “Back at it with the ta, are we?”

Teddy replied with only a stern nod and a wrinkle of his mouth, then dug back into his breakfast again, content to just watch Matty and the few cars that passed by the window.

It was a strange concept for me to wrap my head around- the whole Teddy and Matty thing, I mean.

Teddy had always been an affectionate kid, a bit shy with newcomers and strangers at times, but his heart was huge and he had a lot of love to go around. Still, with that being said, the dynamic he’d struck up with the curly headed singer was unlike anything I’d ever witnessed from him before.

With Adi, Teddy was always perfectly content to find new extremes and test them. Pushing boundaries and buttons simply because Ads was the biggest pushover known to man- at least when it came to him.

Each moment Adi spent with Teddy she always ended up looking spent by the time she was about to head home, almost like he’d gone and dragged her through a circus tent full of performers and animals alike.

Then there was Finn. Finn had been a constant presence in Teddy’s life since the day he was born, he was my best friend and was always there to lend a helping hand whenever I needed it. The two of them were close in their own way, Teds felt comfortable with Finn, he didn’t question his authority or throw a fit when the man put his foot down, but whenever I was around the pair of them together Teddy made it quite clear that Finn was the third wheel amongst the lot of us.

Which was funny in its own way, I supposed, because I knew how Teddy looked at me. I was his mum, sure, but I was also his dad, too. Merely in the sense that Teds had never looked to anyone else to fill that role for him, I was what he had been given and I was all that he needed.

Yes, there had been the odd question or two when Teddy had finally started to understand films and tv shows, and again when he had started nursery school and seen all of the other kids with their mums and dads. But he had taken my honest answers on the chin and shrugged off any other prompts I’d had for him afterwards, as though he was perfectly untroubled by it all and the fact that he only had a single parent.

Then again, a few of the kids in his class faced similar problems.

Oliviette had only ever really known her dad, since her mum had sadly passed when she’d been too little to remember. Tury’s father worked in the military, or something of the sort, and was divorced from their other father. He went away for long stretches at a time and had only ever come to pick them up once in all the time that we’d been in attendance.

Zara was another young mum like me, we’d bonded over that fact a couple weeks into the school year when a few of the other parents had wondered over the whereabouts of our partners and then turned up their noses at us when they’d received their answer.

Which led me straight back on over to my anxieties about Teddy, and how he might come to soon view Matty. As well as the question on whether Matty could even handle being seen in that sort of light, or if he’d run swiftly for the hills with his tail tucked between his legs.

These worries had started up quite quickly after seeing those articles we’d faced earlier in the week, which had only added fuel to the fire for me. Some of the headlines still haunted me and my waking thoughts, in truth. They flashed through my mind on a giant billboard sort of screen, visible for all to see.

JUNKIE ROCKSTAR TURNED FAMILY MAN!

A NEW LINE DRAWN FOR HEALY?

THE 1975 SINGER AND HIS HIDDEN FAMILY..

It was both a startling and terrifying experience to suddenly start considering the opinions and views of the entire world around you, which now appeared to be watching us under a microscope, reading into each and every move not just Matty and I made, but Teddy now too.

It was ultimately why I had run and hidden when it had all come out, choosing to avoid the whole situation at hand rather than face it head on and be met with a plethora of questions I hadn’t yet thought about.

But then Matty just had to have gone and sent me that fucking demo.

I’d been all but putty in his hands after that really.

And the very thought of not just the previous night, but this morning too, had me flushing in the middle of the cafe Matty had taken us out to. ‘My treat,’ He’d said, and it had all felt so natural. Him being in my bed, in my shower, in my house, around my kid.

I heaved a heavy sigh before picking up my mug of tea, wrinkling my nose in distaste when I found it had gone cold. It made me wonder just how long I had been lost in thought.

That question was answered for me though when Matty came strolling back over, the crease in his brow there and then gone when he took to his seat once more and caught eyes with Teddy. He flashed the boy a bright smile, “Enjoyin’ that, monster?”

Grimly, Teddy opened his mouth up wide to show Matty just how much he had enjoyed his breakfast and laughed when Matty mimicked the expression, the man leaning in close enough that Teddy could only laugh giddily.

“Made a big enough mess of it.” I commented with a soft smile.

Even with all my fretting I still couldn’t get over the way Matty treated my son and how Teddy responded to him in turn. It was incredibly surreal.

When I’d first gotten pregnant and decided to go it alone all those years ago, I thought that had been it for me. That there was no way any person, let alone anyone in Matty’s position, would just come along and be able to deal with the fact that I had a child. This whole other being that would always fall above everything else.

But here that somebody was.

Sat with my toddler, looking at him almost the exact same way I did. With such adoration and emotion.

The sight made my heart both lurch and crumble all at once.

I pulled myself out of my head once more with that thought and tuned back in to find our waitress making her way over again. She was a sturdy looking woman, not much older than my mum if I had to guess, and had taken more than liking to the messy toddler she’d been shafted with early this morning, “Anything else I can get for you, lovelies?”

I opened my mouth to tell her that we were fine, seeing as though Teddy was all but finished, just chewing on a few pieces of buttered bread, and my sandwich was merely straggling bits of crust now.

“Would be great if you could get us another round of drinks to go?” Matty piped up before I could answer her, circling a finger between the two of us. “Cheers.”

The waitress dipped her head at him and flashed a warm smile my way, “One tea and a strong flat white coming your way then.”

I was surprised that she’d recalled our order so easily, since I’d noted earlier that there were a few other patrons she’d been serving, and so I thanked her gratefully with another smile before she walked away, arms laden with a few of our used plates.

“You didn’t have to,” I said to Matty shortly after, then dipped my chin down towards my remaining cup, “But thank you anyway, this had gone cold.”

Matty rolled his eyes, a gesture he was rather prone to using whenever he thought I was being unnecessary, but then shuffled over to settle more comfortably in the seat opposite me, leaving his phone to rest on the table between us.

“Sorry I was long, but after management, Jamie rang.” He confessed to me, and that scowl of his appeared for a split second or two before disappearing completely when he glanced back over at Teds, who was now playing with his food rather than eating it.

It was almost automatic the way Matty moved to steal the backpack hanging off the arm of the chair perched beside him, pulling out a few of the baby wipes I usually kept there before beginning to clean up Teddy’s face and hands.

I could only stare on in utter bewilderment, watching it all play out even whilst Matty continued to speak to me, clearly none the wiser to the way my brain had just short circuited at his actions.

“Anyway, they’re on it- or so they’ve said. But I know this whole thing is just a charade to them, yeah? Management, I mean. Not J. ‘Cause he’s already said that he’s trying to keep them from going too extreme with the whole clean up, claiming that they appeared to be warming up to the idea of me becomin’ this ‘changed man’ or some shite.” Matty scoffed with a roll of his eyes at the very thought, then pulled a face for Teddy who admonished him for his use of a ‘bad word’, and cleared away some of the mess that had been created whilst he’d been gone.

I swallowed thickly at the sight, thankful for the moment of reverie I was gifted when our waitress shuffled back on over, two to-go cups in hand as well as the bill.

“Ah, are we all clean then?” She cooed down at Teddy, moving to grab the last of what remained at our table to take back to the kitchen with her.

Her expression brightened when Teddy not only shot her a mischievous grin, but also wiggled his fingers up to show her just how clean they were. Matty snorted.

The woman peered between the two of us afterwards, plates tucked into the crook of her elbow whilst both of our previous mugs sat cradled in the other. “You’re a lucky pair, he’s absolutely golden.”

My pulse spiked at her words, or rather what she’d interpreted our little excursion as, but before I could think to offer an explanation, or anything rather, she was already shuffling away again. Teddy batting a hand at her back in goodbye.

My gaze slowly drifted away from her retreating form and over to where Matty was now slouched, but he didn’t seem to have noticed her words, or perhaps he just didn’t care. Still, I blinked slowly at him, “Did you hear that? Did you hear what she just said?”

He pulled his eyes away from a now babbling Teddy and shrugged slowly, “Yeah?”

Yeah??

Sorry, come again?

Had I actually heard him right?

I almost choked on the force of my next inhale. “That’s it? Just- yeah?”

Matty stared back at me, expression almost blank- calculating, in truth. As though he was trying to determine which of his next words had the ability to set me off even further. I sort of hated that.

“What do you want me to say?” He asked me slowly, elbows moving up onto the table’s top and pressing against it to lean in closer to me.

His eyes never left my own, and it was then that I noticed the sturdy wall behind them that I thought had crumbled between us so long ago. He was wary now, building it back up again in hopes that I wouldn’t wound him- anymore than you already had, my mind unhelpfully supplied.

I licked at my lower lip, mostly in thought but also because my throat had suddenly gone dry at the very reminder.

It had been necessary, I told myself. Space and time, that was all that we had needed, and look at us now!

Look at us…

“I just,” I murmured, swallowing thickly whilst still staring into those hardened eyes which remained locked on mine, “It doesn’t bother you at all?”

That steely look softened when he snorted and the bricks in that wall of his began to chisel away at themselves once more.

Matty slumped and I watched on as his gaze flickered back over to my son, who was now much more interested in the straps of his highchair rather than either of us.

“Why would it?”

Matty’s words were as gentle as his tone and his smile was just as sweet, and all I could think about in that moment was the abating panic I felt and the sudden need I had for him.

Shouldn’t it? I wanted to press, it would bother a hundred other men. What makes you so different?

He glanced back at me then with a languid turn of his head, “Guess it just makes me feel worth something, even if it’s a mistake on her part.”

Matty must’ve seen the way my face fell so quickly at his words because he chuckled lowly and then gifted me a small but pivotal smile. He reached out to toy with the hand I’d been resting on the table, fingertips trailing over whitened knuckles.

“I’m just being honest, alright? He’s a good kid, anyone can see that. I mean she did, din’t she? And then, there’s you, Squeaks.” He dragged that last bit out, flipping my hand over so that he could trace the lines of my palm with the tips of his fingers. “You’re something else.”

I frowned slightly at his words, a little puzzled. Matty only laughed at the face I must’ve made before he finally took my hand wholly in his, thumb brushing over my ever rising pulse.

“If she reckons I could land someone like you long enough to have one of these little ones running round, well… Just makes me picture it, 'is all.”

I could feel the contents of my stomach whirl at his given answer and tightened my hold on Matty’s hand by a fraction, needing the certainty that he was in fact real. That what he had said was very much real too.

“Squeaks?” Matty pressed after a short while. I figured I must've been quiet too long for him to prompt an actual reaction from me. Either that, or he’d gotten bored of my gaping gob far too quickly.

I attempted to swallow around the hardened lump in my throat, but it was difficult. “Yeah, just-” I struggled to fathom the mere idea that he had thought about me in any scenario at all beyond the past six months we had shared. “You’ve actually thought about that?”

Matty rolled his eyes at me, and although his smile was warm, it held a fragment of uncertainty to it that told me all I needed to know.

“I’m getting old, darlin’. Normal to think about that kind of shit, ain’t it?”

That was a very Matty thing to say and my rapid pulse slowed a tad because of it, giving my poor pounding heart a break.

“Yeah, but with me, Matty.” I felt the need to stress, because it was only yesterday that everything had come to a head between us. It made me question how long he’d been holding off on me- had he been waiting, is that what this was? Had he been trying to get over whatever he felt for me? If so, what had changed his mind, or forced his hand?

He simply chuckled and shrugged, like it was no big deal.

“Yeah with you, Mouse.” Matty confirmed, squeezing my hand once more before letting go completely and swiftly getting up out of his seat to unclip Teddy from his highchair. “Wanna go pay with me then, little man?” He asked Teds and it was only when Teddy had been swept up into Matty’s awaiting arms and Matty had looked over at me to tell me he was going up to the till that I realised he had used my kid to escape the current conversation at hand.

I shook my head in disbelief and tried to steel myself into something a little more put together once he had left, instead of choosing the imminent breakdown my mind was rooting for. I couldn’t lose my shit with all these people around to bear witness. Because I could do that later, couldn’t I? In the comfort of my own home. Right now I just needed to…

Fuck, I could not actually believe that Matty had pictured a future with me. A. fucking. future.

One that was ours.

The same stupid man that had told me time and time again that he would get headaches simply from thinking of the next few days to come, that he hadn't seen much of a life for himself the older he’d gotten. Even with all the money and the fame.

My stomach was swarming again, just like it had done when I’d heard the demo for the first time.

I wondered, briefly, whether those butterflies of mine were instead moths merely looking for any source of warmth they could find, and if Matty could really be exactly that. My little bit of warmth.

“You coming then, Squeaks?”

I glanced up again to find Matty now grinning down at me, Teddy still bouncing happily on his hip and the spiderman backpack thrown halfheartedly over his right shoulder.

I gaped for a split second at the picture they painted and then nodded, smiling up at this maddening man with all the warmth I could possibly muster. Hoping that somehow, someday, that little dream of his came true.

“Yeah, I’m coming.”

–

It had probably been one of the most content mornings Matty had had in a long time.

He knew that for a fact, but still felt stunted by it all the same.

It had been years since he’d woken up without the immediate dread, or the itching need for a fix that even now sometimes still jilted him awake. And the night previous? Well, he’d gone to bed thinking of tomorrow, hadn't he?

Stupidly, he wondered what his mum might make of that. If she’d be surprised, wary even. Or maybe just happy for him.

He’d been gifted some precious time and some precious people and he did not want to waste a single second of it. Although that could have hardly been avoided, what with the way management were constantly up his arse, hounding him incessantly about everything under the fucking sun.

The three of them had set off for food not long after he’d had a lapful of sleepy mouse first thing, they’d danced around one another whilst getting dressed, Matty watching as she brushed her hair and then catching her eye when he had attempted to wrangle an overenthusiastic toddler into his coat and boots.

Matty had walked hand in hand with Teddy all the way to his car, letting the kid jump his way down the few short steps from the house and up into the car seat he’d borrowed from Adam a week or so after Christmas. Mouse had snorted at his shitty parking job, then granted them a full blown crackle when she’d torn a parking ticket from his front window screen only to have found a real unfortunate note from an unhappy neighbour beneath it.

Apparently Matty had to work on his spontaneity if he didn’t want to end up falling out with the bloke who lived two doors down from her. Even as he winced, he reckoned the guy was still a fucking nobhead.

He’d driven down a couple of backroads, letting the radio play and rolling his eyes fondly whenever Squeaks deigned it necessary to comment on his driving- “It needs work, Matty. I mean, you almost took out three of those bollards!” “Ah, a bus! Bus, Matty! Bus!” “Are you actually aiming to kill us, or do you just reckon you're the next 007?”

Matty had managed to get them all there in one piece, like he knew he would, and led the two of them all the way to this odd-spot cafe he’d found a couple months prior.

It was a simple dive, tucked quietly away amongst the noise of London, and was almost always chock-full of white haired pensioners or folk who didn’t much care to note who he was.

They’d sat down, Matty taking his first chance to ask for one of them highchairs he typically saw little kids sat in at restaurants, and then they’d ordered; Mouse getting what she deemed was her morning usual, whilst Teddy had mimicked his own request.

It had been cute, Matty had to admit. Especially when Squeaks had shot her son a dubious look, stating that he hadn’t tried it before, what with her being too scared she’d plague him with salmonella or something of the sort from how shoddy her attention was with the passing of time. Matty promised to teach her.

The little tyke seemed to have enjoyed it though, all but ravishing the yolks from their casing and munching on the sliced bread til it had either disappeared or simply gone soggy.

The only interruption they had faced was the unexpected call from his management team, and then Jamie’s which had followed not a minute after.

It had been a right nightmare.

In fact, the whole of last week had been a total disaster. His team had been on his case the minute those articles had all been released, Twitter threads spiralling out of control and fans losing their minds over whether or not it was all fake or not.

And Matty, Matty had tried and failed not to let it get the best of him, but with that and the loss of Squeaks and Teddy, who had retreated almost entirely from his life. It had left him with a wound big enough for him to question everything.

Matty shook his head then, a shit attempt at ridding himself free from his neverending train of thought, and looked up with a soft smile when Mouse wandered back into the living room and handed him a brew.

He’d never been overly gone on tea, to be honest- coffee worked wonders and with hours like his, it was now a necessity. But hers? He could never say no to, which was rapidly becoming a habit now. So much so, in fact, that he’d noticed himself wanting one at the oddest times of the day; down at the studio, in a meeting, the middle of the night…

Yeah that last one had been fucking strange. Half three in the morning and he’d been up puttering around his kitchen unable to sleep once the idea had taken root in his head and settled. Hadn’t been half as good as this though, Matty sighed thoughtfully as he sipped away.

“So…”

His eyes immediately flickered back up to meet her, sitting all pretty on the end of the couch, an arms width away. “So.” Matty mimicked, raising his eyebrows then smirking at the way she shuffled in her seat and tried to hide her growing smile.

“We should talk.”

That smirk of his slipped right off.

He coughed slightly to clear his throat, but mostly to buy himself some more time, and then decided to get it on over with, pushing his brew onto the coffee table so that he could better face her. “Right, okay.”

She was chewing on her lip, a habit she seemed to have had ever since he’d first known her, but one which continued to drive him half mad. Even more so now that he knew what it fucking felt like to have her under him.

His tongue swiped his bottom lip instinctively at the reminder of it.

“You said it too,” Mouse reminded him, sounding almost accusatory.

He had, but even so, it was still fucking awkward to just talk about shit. Couldn’t they skip to the good bit? Where he slowly took her apart piece by piece on the sofa she’d have to pass by day in and day out. A constant reminder of him even when he wasn't there.

“Matty.”

Matty blinked out of his daze at the call of his name and his eyes shot upwards to find her looking back at him with a furrowed brow.

“We don’t have to talk right this second, but I’d prefer if we did.” She told him with a slight shrug, eyes flickering away from him and across the room almost nervously. “‘Cause, at least I’d know where we stand, you know?”

Pursing his lips slightly, Matty tilted his head at her, “What’s that meant to mean?”

She shrugged again, sheepish almost, which wasn’t much like her. “Just, you’ve grown on me, Matty. I wouldn’t want to fuck up our.. friendship over something like this.”

Matty knew what she was getting at there and it did hurt a little bit to think that she reckoned he’d fuck up what they’d built, what she’d given him, for a quick shag or whatever it was she’d filled her head with.

But still, he gave her an impish grin once he’d shuffled his way a little closer, throwing an arm over the back of the settee. “Awh you finally admitting that we’re friends, Squeaks?” He teased and laughed when her foot flew out to toe his side.

“Bit more than that since yesterday.” Mouse murmured, giving him a snide smile before she released a heavy breath and settled her own mug down alongside his own on the tabletop. “But yes, we’re fucking friends, Matthew.”

Matty’s nose wrinkled but he didn’t comment on the use of his full name, instead stretching his fingers out to toy with the leg she had pressed against the back of the sofa. He lifted his eyes to watch her, saw how her own gaze rested on his hand and her knee.

“Good. Only took you, what? Six months.” He ragged but the smile he wore was pleased, dopey even. Stupid enough that he knew if one of his mates turned up and caught sight of it they’d probably rinse him to bits, claim he looked a right tit. But Matty couldn’t bring himself to care. Not then.

She rolled her eyes, but he noted how she was smiling now too.

“I’ve always thought you were fit, you know?”

A laugh escaped her then, brash and unforgiving. Matty would’ve been wounded had he not known her as well as he did. So instead he simply chose to flick her knee in harmless rebuke. “Don’t be a twat. You said you wanted to talk and I am. You’re fucking fit, Squeaks. Don’t let nobody tell you otherwise.”

She merely shook her head at him, the smallest smile limning that pretty mouth of hers.

“I’m being serious.” Matty tapped her knee twice with his fingertip, wanting her attention, “I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that.”

He recalled one of their earlier conversations and hoped that she somehow remembered, ‘I was raised by liars, can't stand lies.’

She licked at the corner of her mouth, eyes trained on him as though she was searching for something in his expression, but ultimately nodded when she didn’t appear to find it.

“Anyway,” Matty smirked, leaning his head against his shoulder and continuing to hold her eyes, “Yeah, so I walked in expecting the usual. Some yappy older bird, who reckoned she was above me and all my fucking shit. Or maybe even someone who’d break and fall back on what they’d said once they were stood facing me. But nah, just you.”

“Just me.” She chuckled in that easy lilt of hers that he’d always found so soothing. In truth, he could actually recall asking her question after question in those first few weeks after they’d met just wanting to hear her talk.

Matty dragged out a hum, “You don’t even know. As soon as you walked out I was on you like a hawk, I swear. Just watching as you walked over, could hardly take my eyes off your legs.”

She snorted, “My legs?”

With a grin, Matty caught her ankle with his free hand and dragged her leg into his lap. “Fucking killer.” He told her honestly, letting himself have this moment to trail his fingertips up and over her thigh. “Then you looked at me with those eyes,” Matty’s own shot up to find them once more and shook his head slightly, “Made me dizzy having your full focus. Never seen a pair so intense, like they’d been struck by lighting or something.”

She rolled those pretty eyes of hers then and Matty pinched her leg, “I’m being serious, Squeaks. One of my favourite things about you.”

Thankfully she glanced back over at him then, her cheeks a tad bit pink but her smile bright. “I like yours too, you sap.” Matty's expression must’ve given way to how he felt about that because she was all too quick to add, “Don’t get cocky about it.”

He chuckled, liking the fact she knew him too well, and finally let his hand rest on her upper leg, though his thumb continued to rub gentle circles into the curve just above her knee. “I obviously felt something, Squeaks. Why the fuck else would I show up outside your studio only days later?”

“‘Cause you’re a stalker?” She teased but had relaxed further into the settee, stretching her other leg out to join the one he held.

Matty ran his fingers up the underside of her foot in retaliation to that comment, “Brave.”

She snickered, “Thought you were just ‘in the area’?”

Matty bit back a grin at her use of his earlier words, remembering how he’d been brimming with nerves whilst waiting outside for someone to show.

“I was,” He sniffed, and was pleased when she simply laughed. “But the truth? I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about you.”

Her cheeks hollowed themselves out as she tried to dampen the growing grin that threatened to overwhelm her face. It broke his heart a bit to know she struggled believing him, that no one else had ever gone far enough to drill the fact that she was fucking beautiful into that thick head of hers, but Matty was nothing if not stubborn and he’d strive to always tell her just how gorgeous he thought she was.

“What was it with that girl then?” She mentioned and Matty immediately frowned, confused as to what she was even going on about. “Your ex.”

Matty felt himself blink, mind reeling as he tried to remember what the hell she was referencing, but then it hit him. “Oh, ohh!” Then he chuckled, unable to help it really, and couldn’t seem to prevent the way it then dissolved into a slightly uncontrollable fit of laughter.

She levelled him with a hearty scowl and went to remove her legs from his lap, obviously none too pleased about being laughed at, but Matty stopped her just before she could.

“No, no, Squeaks. Babe, you’ve got it all wrong.” He attempted to console even with his still amused smile, leaning in closer now, his hands settled on her calves. “That was just for the press! Management team reckoned it would be good to rebuild my image, and I wasn't long out of rehab. She and I always looked good together but fought like fucking cat and-”

He stopped short and she snorted, “Mouse?”

Matty squinted his eyes mockingly, “Yes, dickhead. But no, it was all fake. Was only with her fifteen minutes before she swanned off to a photoshoot or something. Harldy even fucking remember it.” He paused then, “Hang on, is that- Is that why you went all quiet on me back then? That time before I ran into you at that bar?”

The way she evaded his gaze told him all he needed to know and then he was laughing again.

“Shut up, you absolute prick.” She huffed after a minute or so, having grown fed up with being his main source of amusement, and swatted him with her foot in hopes it would get him to follow the order.

God, he’d never seen her look so embarrassed.

“It’s not funny. You never mentioned it either, so what was I supposed to think!”

“Uh, not that?” He suggested, still chuckling away but actively trying to get it under control, sort of. “I’m sorry!” He laughed again when she kicked him, “Honest! But the thought didn’t even cross my mind. And we were hardly even mates then!”

She looked chastised, “We were mates!”

He levelled her with a look.

She held out for a bit before she finally huffed, “Fine, it was rocky but even so.”

Matty snorted, “No, you know what? I sort of like this side of you.” He teased, wrapping his hands around both her ankles and tugging. “Suits you.”

She sent him a well deserving glare, which was fair, before she dug her heel into his upper thigh, far too close to his dick for his liking, and sat herself back up again. “You’re such a twat.”

“So I've been told.” He sang, though he then rubbed at his tender leg with a wry grimace, “Shit, remind me not to actually piss you off.”

Squeaks shot him a grin and relaxed back into their earlier position.

Her phone went off then and Matty watched on as she manoeuvred herself awkwardly around on the sofa to grab it from her back pocket without getting up. He raised a brow at her triumphant grin but she just looked down at the notification she’d gotten.

“Everything alright?”

She hummed, typing something off before looking back up at him and tucking the phone away again. “Just Finn, says he’s back home tomorrow and wants to see us.”

Right… the infamous Finn Matty had yet to actually meet.

“Where’s he been?” He asked, toying with the cuff of her jean leg.

“New York!” And the smile that she’d answered with told Matty a thousand things, “He had an auction up there or something, then ended up staying a few extra days to meet with this elusive client.”

“Shady.” He commented with a humoured smile, one he hoped would conceal his insecurities around the whole situation.

He’d heard a lot about Mouse’s best mate, and these worries weren’t just down to the fact that he’d yet to meet the bloke, but also because Finn seemed to be such a big figure in not just hers, but Teddy’s lives. He’d been away a lot in recent months and Matty wondered over whether his presence would throw a spanner into the works once he was finally let back into the fold.

“Very much so,” Mouse laughed, none the wiser to the chaos consuming his mind, “But I’m excited to see him, it’ll be good.”

Matty merely hummed.

She must’ve sensed some apprehension in it because she turned to tilt her head at him, playing with her fingers now. “Would-” She paused and Matty looked up to wait her out, she inhaled after a moment and then let the breath go, “Would you want to meet him? Or is that, I dunno, too fast?”

His forehead pinched and he shook his head. “No, not too fast.” He deemed, though he could’ve just lied and put off meeting the bloke for as long as he possibly could.

“I mean, we don’t have to put it in writing or anything.” Squeaks was quick to reply, “He’ll be around for a few weeks now, so we can just, I don’t know, work something out soon. Like meet at a cafe, a bar, the studio… here?”

She seemed to be spiralling a bit and although it was cute, Matty felt the need to save her, “Love, it’s fine. Whatever makes you comfortable. You’ve met the guys, and they love you, so-” He put his brave face on, “So I’m sure Finn will love me too. Yeah?”

He was met with a rapid nod, one that should’ve quelled his fears but only seemed to heighten them instead.

“So we’re doing this then?”

Matty blinked and lifted his chin to find her watching him again, that soft smile of hers back in its rightful place, looking pleased with how it had all turned out.

“What, meeting your mate?” He questioned her, having figured that much had been obvious, but then she was rolling her eyes at him again.

“No, I meant- me and you.”

Oh.

Oh, he was grinning properly now. Like a massive twat, yeah, but how could he not? When she sat there looking all lovely and asking him if they could be something.

“Me and you sounds good.” Matty murmured around the strength of his smile, fingertips diving beneath the hem of her jeans to tap the jut of her ankle bone.

He would've been embarrassed about it but he reckoned his grin was mimicked on her face and was all the more glad for it. Because he’d seen her smile and he’d seen laugh, but this grin. It was something else.

It wasn’t a difficult decision, his next move. Because before Matty could even contemplate it, he was all but throwing himself up the other end of the settee to cradle her head between his arms and catch her mouth with his.

She kissed him back with almost as much excitement, the pair of them smiling and laughing giddily at the stupidity and utter prospect of it all.

“Got you trapped now.” Matty breathed into the space between them not long after, eyes boring into her own. He hadn't been lying earlier when he’d claimed that they were one of his favourite things about her.

She barked out a laugh, hands falling away from where they’d been holding his neck to cover her face. “Was that a mouse joke?” She asked him through the gaps in her fingers, shaking her head at him.

Matty hadn’t really thought too much about his words, but thinking back he couldn’t stop himself from laughing too, bowing his shoulders to chuckle into the crook of her neck. “Fuck, I guess so.”

Her arms wrapped themselves around him again and so he nipped at the edge of her jaw, grinning like a fucking idiot.

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writing-for-life · 1 month

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March Mania: Sandman Edition

The lovely @tickldpnk8 and I are art aficionados and Sandman meta writers. And one fine Friday, she just slid into my inbox and went, “What if…”

And if you have Sandman brain-rot, a “What if” quickly turns into a “Let’s do it!”

After much plotting, planning and sourcing material, we proudly present “March Mania: Sandman Edition”—a bracket tournament/poll/event over roughly four weeks that involves all original Sandman artists until only three are standing in a final show-down.

Well, all artists is a lie. We had criteria for qualification, and they are as follows:

Only artists involved in Gaiman’s original run of The Sandman qualify. That also includes Overture, Endless Nights and Dream Hunters.

Only the main artist of an issue qualifies. This is usually the penciller or the “artist” (where no inking and/or colouring by a second or third person is involved). Inkers and colourists unfortunately do not qualify on this occasion (unless they were the main artist in another issue).

This year, we will make it all about, “Who drew your favourite Dream?” And as such, his face needed to be visible in at least one panel to qualify the artist. Both Morpheus and Daniel qualify—they’re both Dream after all.

Even after applying all criteria, we were left with an impressive count of 24 artists. And from tomorrow (March 25), they will go head-to-head in round one:

We will post one poll each day, and you can vote for your favourite artist for 24 hours. So please share the polls so as many people as possible can vote. You will find them via the tag #sandman march mania.

And if that’s all you want to/can do, we’re super happy, because we wanted to create an event that is low effort to participate in while still being fun and hopefully bringing those artists back into your memory that you might have forgotten about (that’s why it’s not really a competition, because all of these artists are amazing in their own way). Let’s all remember:

The Sandman would not exist without its amazing artists. They deserve every bit of praise.

But it doesn’t need to stop there. In the true spirit of any fandom-event, no matter how small, of course we’d love you to participate beyond just voting for your favourite.

Each poll will contain a quick reminder of the issues the artist has illustrated so you can refresh your memory.

Maybe you’d like to share your favourite panels in the reblogs, or write what you love about your favourite artist?

Maybe you are aware of other work they have done (comics, book illustrations, commissions) you’d like to share?

Help us turn the reblogs into a colourful appreciation of your favourite artist, in whatever way you see fit.

And if you have any questions, hit up @writing-for-life and @tickldpnk8 as the event organisers. We so look forward to sharing our love for these artists and hope you join in.

Spread the message far and wide, and we’ll see you all tomorrow for the first poll (we’ll post 6pm/London each day with a few time zone reblogs thrown in)!

#the sandman #sandman #dream of the endless #neil gaiman #morpheus #sandman march mania #sandman x art #sandman comics #sandman art #sandman fandom #dc comics #vertigo comics

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maddiebuckettebuckley · 17 days

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casual (is it casual now?)

eddie/tommy angst | 1.1k words | read on ao3

summary: literally just the bucktommy kiss if it had been eddie instead, because lou said it was almost eddie and the show said eddie catholic guilt real and I said oh bet?

Eddie slides Tommy a beer across the table and cracks one open for himself. Despite still feeling the burn of the whiskey from the karaoke bar in his stomach, he takes a swig. “Man, I have to remember to invite Buck next week. You wouldn’t know it from looking at him, but he’s a big trivia buff.”

Tommy hums good-naturedly. “Maybe that way we’d actually break our ten-point record.” He grabs the beer and taps his fingers against the side without taking a drink. “Hey, what’s the deal with you two, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Eddie cocks his head slightly, not entirely understanding the question. “Me and Buck?”

“You talk about each other all the time, and your kid is obsessed with him. His name must have come up a dozen times the other day.”

Eddie shrugs. What is there to say about Buck? He’s Buck. He’s worked his way into every aspect of Eddie’s life, and somehow, unexpectedly, became Eddie’s favorite person in the world, after Chris. Not that he would ever tell him. His head’s big enough as it is.

“We’re like family, I guess. The whole 118 is more than a house. We’re all family.”

“Hah. I noticed.” Tommy’s voice is colored with something like bitterness. Not harsh, though. More… sad. Wistful, maybe. “Wasn’t like that when I was there.”

“Really? How so?” Without meaning to, Eddie inches closer.

Tommy lets out a puff of air and shakes his head slightly. “The whole… culture was different. Very macho. Regressive. Not that different from serving, honestly.”

That Eddie can understand. His team was close, but it was a completely different world than the 118. The jokes were sharper, aimed to hurt as often as not. The conversations shallower. Sometimes it almost felt like they didn’t want to get too close in case someone didn’t make it out. Maybe they had the right idea; he had almost died trying to get them all home. Not that he learns from his mistakes, since he knows from experience he’d stop at nothing to fight for any of his new family. It scares him if he lets it. How much he cares about all of them.

“I get it,” Eddie says, taking another swig of his beer. “You’d fit right in there now, though. The way you threw in with us in that storm.” He whistles. “Pretty fuckin’ cool.”

A small smile appears on Tommy’s face that Eddie finds difficult to read. Could be the whiskey. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“You wouldn’t get sick of me, seeing me every day?” Tommy asks. He sets down his beer, still untouched, next to Eddie on the table, and Eddie suddenly becomes aware that he’s well within touching distance. He’d barely even have to reach out his hand.

“’Course not. Anyone would be an improvement over Buck.” Why did he say that? He doesn’t think that. But it makes Tommy laugh again. Which makes Eddie smile, even as his stomach turns from the casual cruelty of the joke.

“You’re pretty cool yourself, you know.” The calm intensity of Tommy’s eye contact is setting off alarm bells in the back of Eddie’s mind. He tries to ignore them, because something about it feels nice, like the gaze itself is casting a warm glow over him.

“Oh, am I?” Eddie replies, raising an eyebrow.

“In my book, at least. Whatever that counts for.” Impossibly, Tommy has gotten even closer, so that there’s almost no space between them at all. The alarm bells get louder, more intense, and Eddie can feel his heartbeat throughout his body.

“Definitely counts for something.” Eddie’s words come out quiet. He kind of can’t breathe.

But he doesn’t back away. He doesn’t break eye contact. Even when Tommy closes the distance completely, when his hand is under Eddie’s chin pulling it ever so slightly upwards so that their mouths meet.

Eddie’s swept away in it. The warmth, the strength of his hand, the hint of vanilla vodka still on his lips. It all makes him dizzy, twists up his head so he forgets, well, everything. Just for a moment. And he leans into the kiss until their bodies are pressed flush against each other and his hand finds its way into Tommy’s hair and—

“Shit.” Eddie pulls away abruptly, breathless. The man — the man — in front of him stares back. Kindly, questioning. And they’re the only two people in the room, but Eddie has never been more sure he’s being watched. Panic starts to migrate from the tips of his fingers wrapped in Tommy’s T-shirt and hair, all the way up into Eddie’s chest and settles there. He takes one step back, then another. The look on Tommy’s face as he does is unbearable, so he turns away, balling his hands into fists that will leave purple crescents in his palms. “I’m not… I have a girlfriend.”

“Oh.”

“It’s actually getting pretty serious. We’re moving in together soon.” Eddie winces at the lie. He hasn’t even asked her yet.

“Eddie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” A gentle hand on his shoulder tells him that Tommy’s stepped closer. Instinctively, Eddie shrugs it off. And instantly feels sick.

Don’t be a fucking coward. Look him in the face, at least.

He turns to face Tommy, who looks — hurt. Worse, he looks like he’s trying not to look hurt. Eddie swallows, trying to keep down the panic as it crawls up his throat.

“Nah man, it’s on me. I shouldn’t have… I should’ve told you sooner.” Eddie scrubs a hand over his eyes. His skin itches like it’s covered with grime. His fingers twitch like they’re searching for rosary beads. “I think you should probably go. It’s getting late.”

Tommy nods, then opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something. Closes it again.

Eddie walks him to the door, trying to come up with any words that would make this less awful, but when he tries to think there’s only a dark static filling his head with noise.

With one foot outside, Tommy hesitates, lingering in the doorframe.

“Listen, Eddie. I really am sorry for the misunderstanding. But I hope you know that you can call me if you ever need to talk. I’ve been where—” He cuts himself off. Holds eye contact with Eddie for a moment. Sighs. “I’m still here for you, if you need anything.”

Eddie nods lamely. A part of him needs to delete Tommy’s number. A part of him wants to pull him back inside. He’s not even sure what for. “Thanks, Tommy.”

The door clicks shut with Tommy behind it and Eddie slides down the wood paneling to the floor, dropping his head between his knees as a heavy sob escapes his mouth.

#911 abc #911 fic #eddie diaz #tommy kinard #eddie diaz x tommy kinard #feel a little guilty tagging it that because its just like. not in a fun way at all but it is technically true #also everyone please be kind I haven't finished a fic in like two years ack

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theplanetplu20 · 1 year

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Overthinker

pairing(s): larissa weems x reader

warning(s): overthinking, mentions of past toxic relationships, self depreciating thoughts

summary: You want to make things official with larissa but you can’t help but overthink it all

word count: 1.7k

A/N: this was purely self indulgent i’ve been in such a shit ass mood and my brain as been all over the place, i’m super fucking anxious and on top of the i start testosterone so my hormones are all over the place i just need to let it out so here we are dbdhf as always pls let me know what you think and enjoy :)

I woke up and immediately knew she was gone without opening my eyes. Being the principal means she has responsibilities and things that need to be done causing her to wake up even before the sun. Although it’s admirable and I respect her for how much passion she has for being the principal here, I just wish I could wake up next to her every morning. To feel her breath on my neck and her stray hairs tickle my face, to gaze into those big blue eyes tracing the wrinkles that prove she’s lived and laughed which I find absolutely breathtaking. Her skin was soft and it was almost addicting to touch. I never want to leave when she’s near and when she’s gone all I can think of is when I’ll see her next. but she is not mine. not that I don’t want her to be I would want her even in death. it’s just in the past things haven’t always worked out in my favour so I’ve been waiting for her. I don’t know why but in my silly mind somewhere it makes sense that if she’s the one who asks for us to be official it means she really actually likes me and wants to be with me (as if she hasn’t already been in my bed but that doesn’t mean she wants to be in a relationship with me).

This is where I decided to stop the spiral that was clearly starting to happen to actually get up and get ready to teach my botany class. Hopping into the shower she’s still the only thing on my mind. Reminiscing on the way her hands grazed my skin and how she whispered sweet words in my ear. Last night, among many nights, I had stopped by her office for wine and conversations that always have me hanging off her every word. We had been flirting back and forth throughout the little meetings that we’d been having for the past few weeks. Then more recently, falling into bed with her after one too many glasses, sometimes just to peacefully sleep and well other nights sometimes we do a little more than sleep. I’ve honestly really enjoyed getting to know her, from her time at Nevermore to before I came to work here. She filled me in on what had happened with the previous botany teacher and how Marilyn almost killed her. I have never hated a person more when being told that story but I'm very thankful to Wednesday for being there so Larissa could too.

After dressing for the day I made my way down to breakfast hoping even to get a glimpse of the blonde goddess. I scanned over the crowd to see if she was maybe there but after seeing her nowhere to be found I begrudgingly grabbed some fruit and water and sat down with the rest of the teachers. As I quietly eat my food I can't help but feel sad that I still haven’t even seen a strand of perfectly placed blonde hair.

At least teaching will be a welcomed distraction. I’ve always loved teaching and it was easy to get lost in telling the kids about the plants, their different abilities and each of their needs. I even enjoyed the rare casual conversations between the students, mainly enid if I’m being honest. When lunch rolls around I am once again disappointed by the lack of presence of a certain principal, but I'm sure she’s very busy I tell myself. It’s just that she always made time to see me and it had always been the highlight of my day. Recently it had felt I was starting to see less of her, maybe not to her fault but I couldn't help the places my mind went to. Thoughts of not being enough or even what she's looking for plague my mind and all of a sudden I can’t stop the avalanche of negative thoughts that roll through my head. My first thought is to run to her and have her reassure me it’s all in my head, but I don't want to have a repeat of the last time.

In my previous relationships, I was told I was too clingy and sensitive, and that all my overthinking was too much. The need for reassurance was just too often and I was just too much. I don’t want to scare her off before I even get a chance so instead I put everything to the back of my mind and push through as always. As my last class of the day rolls around it starts to become clear that I’m not 100% myself as I keep dissociating to clear the thoughts from my head.

“Hey, prof. You okay?” A student in my class asks me as they leave the room

“Yeah of course, just didn’t get much sleep is all,” I say with my usual smile

“Right, okay well make sure you get some sleep, see you tomorrow!” They smile and run out of the door. Once I see that the door had closed fully, I slump back into my chair exhausted emotionally and physically. I start grading papers and working on later assignments that I will need while contemplating whether or not I should stop by Larissa's office as usual. After having a full blown argument in my head my insecurities once again rain trumpet when I decide it's best if I just go back to my own dorm for once. With the excuse that she’s probably really busy and would rather be alone. I decide to distract myself with reading and other small activities that usually bring me joy which doesn’t seem to be working all that well. I eventually give up and fall asleep feeling like something is missing.

The next morning seemed to go by even slower than the last with still no sign of Larissa causing me to question whether or not Larssia had even shown interest in me during those nights or if I had wanted it so bad I made it all up in my head. I almost broke and went to see her when I suddenly received an email from the woman herself asking to see me really quickly in her office. Assuming it must be school related otherwise she would have texted me, I rush out of my classroom and make my way to see her.

When I arrive at the door I can’t help but feel the butterflies start in my stomach in anticipation of seeing her. Even though my thoughts are hell bent on convincing me she wants nothing to do with me I’m afraid my heart will always be with her. I hear a faint come in so I slowly make my way into the office. I look up to see her sitting at her desk playing with the edge of one of the papers laying in front of her.

“Y/N, please come sit” she gestures to the seat across her. “You didn’t come by last night” she states.

“I didn’t know you wanted me to,” I say back looking anywhere but at her so I don’t reveal my true feelings.

“Of course I did… I…” she trails off seemingly not knowing what to say before she blurts out “Why have you been so distant all of a sudden?” She questioned, at first I thought she was mad before I just barely hear her mutter “did I do something wrong?”

“omg no, no you could never” I move from my spot across from her to kneel by her side. Taking her hands into mine I bring each to my lips placing delicate kisses along the back of her hands. I glance up at her concerned eyes already upset with myself for causing her to doubt herself. “it’s not you, this is probably the stupidest thing to say but really it’s me and my stupid brain..” I glance over at the fireplace before looking back at her obviously patiently waiting for me to explain. “ I just... I don’t know. When you suddenly got too busy to come to see me through the day I thought maybe… I don’t know what I thought.” I did though, I just didn’t want to say. Her hands move from my hold up to my face to caress the line of my jaw comfortingly.

“It’s okay if you can’t find the words, darling,” She says kindly not knowing how hard it was for me not to just dump all my past relationship drama right then and there. I sigh knowing I have to start owning my shit and realizing that she might be more understanding than I initially assumed. I stand up and see her questioning gaze wondering what I’m doing. I pull her up by the hands that were just holding my face before switching so that I was now sitting in her office chair and pulling her back down to sit in my lap.

“ I know I probably shouldn’t have just hidden away, I have some unresolved trust issues that I definitely need to work through. I just don’t want what we have to just go away and I was worried maybe you had changed your mind about me. I love what we have but… would you be mad if I maybe wanted... More though?” I could barely look into her eyes, scared of rejection and scared of losing her. Her hand comes up to my chin guiding my eyes back to hers instead of anger or disgust like I had imagined her eyes were soft and curious even.

“more?” She inquired maybe not understanding but more probably because she wanted to hear me say it out loud and I could never say no to her.

“Would you want to be my girlfriend?” The smile that made its way onto her face at my words got rid of any doubt that had formed in my mind.

“would you want to be my partner?” She asks me back, causing me to smile equally as big as her.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Her hands grab my face and smash our lips together.

I have lots to work on, but at least I don’t have to do it alone.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #wednesday #wednsday addams #gwendoline christie #gwendoline christie x reader #principal weems #wednesday netflix

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nightwalker6200 · 1 year

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I really think this foreshadows the rest of the season- i think we might see some hurt/ comfort from Rei/ Kazuki with the possibility of them dying in the field or getting hurt/ incapacitated. Perhaps in E8, Rei will come back hurt thus leaving Kazuki to face the idea of fatherhood on his own as we saw Rei face that possibility in E7. I also think Miri will be taken away at some point (either by SS in which Kazuki and Rei would have to figure out if they could even get her back, legally, possibly with Kyutaro’s help in forging, or check in on her from time-to-time as she goes to a “better” family; or, kidnapped as leverage thus leaving Kazuki/ Rei to find her). It would be interesting, as this could happen, with Rei being demanded to take over the family business- Rei would take this deal in order to protect both Kazuki and Miri- the Boss could demand he cut ties and his presence immediately (a breakup/ divorce, if you will). Thus, leaving Kazuki as a single parent for a while as Rei was ordered no contact and no family (I would assume if this were to happen, we’d see some montage or episode with Kazuki and Miri struggling, and Rei even more reclused or depressed- possibly deep in work; then, Miri gets kidnapped (either Kazuki will show up to the Boss’s house, pleading, or Rei will show up at his last apt), leaving Rei to make a choice- become a traitor with his father and go against him in order to find Miri, or remain in the business and leave Kazuki to deal with this on his own. Assuming Rei decides on patricide, I think we will have a huge BADASS fight scene with Rei and Kazuki showcasing their skill sets pushed to the limit.

Also, unpopular opinion: As much as I want this to be YAOI because come on- two badass assassins protecting a sweet little daughter, I highly doubt we will ever see a Rei X Kazuki scene.

Something else I wanted to mention- in light of the words uttered in E8 about things being taken: Happiness exists to be taken: Before Miri, the idea that either one of them had to betray or kill the other, would have meant nothing. For example, they seem to be friends who live together, or at least, “friendly” roommates (yes, there’s a difference); so, assuming Rei would have had to kill Kazuki or the other way around, then this task would have been quite easy. They saw each other every now and then, and did some stuff together, but their connections were minimal. They didn’t really mean that much to each other- so killing each other would have been like a small papercut/ annoyance.

However, after Miri, the idea of having to kill/ betray each other would be far worse and difficult. Even if Miri were to leave the rest of the series, the connections established between Rei and Kazuki would still be there. So, if Rei were to try and come after Kazuki now, I’d assume he’d struggle with the task, perhaps even ignore the order, because he’s developed further emotional ties/ connections with Kazuki through Miri; opening himself up more and establishing himself from the Boss- becoming his own person- the same would be said for Kazuki. Killing each other now would HURT far worse, resembling a breakup or family member death- they’d break the connections between themselves that they have now- at the very least, their connections blossomed into a friendship deeper than the original (deepening every day as they are more than friends at this point; they are family); and they would hurt for Miri as she would also feel the fall out of this transaction. Killing each other or going after one another (ie. Rei targeting Kazuki and vice versa) would essentially kill Miri as well. She regards them, as they themselves, as her Papas.

The connection between Rei and Kazuki, although might not be, nor ever be romantic, is extremely emotional and nurturing (ie. Rei saying in E8 to Kazuki: Before, you never meant that much to me) from where it originally started. If we ever see a target put on one of them for the other to carry out, i highly doubt they’d be able to finish the job (this doesn’t mean they won’t actually be able to start the job), which in turn could mean that someone else would be tasked with carrying out the hit thus causing a lot more protectiveness from either partner or confessions of guilt. Like mentioned, even if Miri were to somehow “disappear,” those connections would still remain because their memories would still be there as Rei and Kazuki are no longer friends (if they ever were) because they are now family (Miri just helps them see that a little better).

Episode 8 spoilers discussion below:

With Rei fighting his mentor, and his mentor saying that Rei was a puppet--- that he used to be like that too until he found something to fight for (his now dead girlfriend), foreshadows, in my opinion, Rei’s possible future. We don’t see Rei react until the blade is pulled on him, leaving the real possibility that he could die or fail to kill his mentor thus leading to the Boss coming after his “family” as Rei would be marked a traitor. When he reacts, he shoves his mentor away with some newfound strength, saying he, too, found something worth protecting (Kazuki/ Miri)... This shows that although Rei might have started out a puppet, living any life the organization wanted, he no longer does now (which would mean, unless he cuts ties very quickly, he’ll be labelled a traitor too)- Rei fell in with a family of his own against/ soiling if you will, the Suwa bloodline- ironically the Boss mentions something along the lines of “we are the darkness in sunshine,” which I find extremely befitting as Rei and Kazuki are opposites (dark and light).

Anyway, back to the main point, Rei’s mentor was basically Rei fighting his future self as he soon will be viewed a traitor, and someone will come after him to kill him. Rei is aware of this; he’s aware that if he doesn’t go back to his father, someone will come after what he loves- Kazuki and Miri. His mentor’s last words, “I’m on my way,” before he dies, is to his dead wife/ girlfriend/ partner- he was happy to die as he knew this was the only way he could be reunited with his family, the cause for his fight (Kazuki, I’m sure, feels this way for Yuko- I forgot how to spell her name- and is learning to live past it. I’m curious as Kazuki has now allowed himself to move on, and the Boss mentioning that Kazuki’s skills were adequate, just how badass he might be- he might be just as equal to Rei when it comes to assassinating, weapons, and stuff but was held back by his desire to see his dead wife/ child again). ANYWAY, the mentor’s last words, “I’m on my way,” were a slap in the face for Rei- he becomes highly aware, in this moment, that if he stays how he is, living with Kazuki and Miri, then he will inevitably get them tortured and killed, and the only way he’d ever be able to see them again (if he stays) is through his own death.

Rei has found something worth protecting, worth fighting for, but to do so so openly in front of the organization, would mean Kazuki and Miri die (if Rei stays, he stays for his own selfish reasons, and they die; if he leaves, he does so through selfless reasons, and they live). I think Rei mentioning to Kazuki in the car that, “Before, you never meant that much to me,” was a goodbye, in a way. Rei knows in order to protect his family, in order to keep them safe, he needs to leave. Even if this decision isn’t what he wants, it’s one he’d gladly make in order to ensure Kazuki and Miri get to live. This will be, from Rei’s standpoint, his final and most open act of love for Kazuki and Miri.

#buddy daddies #rei #kazuki #reikaz #anime #theories #Miri #found family #targeted #they were roommates

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frasers-of-my-heart · 11 months

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I’ve got a new canon compliant one shot to share today! I wanted more for and from the Claire/Jenny scene in First Wife so I made it myself 😊 with some other added relationship dynamics as well ❤️

Wounds Left Untreated Cannot Heal

I had spent the day tending to Jamie after Laoghaire’s attack and hearing his side of how they had come together (and apart). I hadn’t forgiven him, but I understood at least to some degree why he had done what he had— the drive to be whole in the wake of losing everything was a feeling I knew all too well. Now, it was time to tend to Jenny. We sat in the kailyard, avoiding each other’s line of sight and waiting for the other to speak first. Jenny sending for Laoghaire to come and find us was still weighing on my heart. Did she care so little for me now? Had she been satisfied to shame and humiliate me? So, here we sat– hurt from the night before and from the last twenty years. I supposed I would have to go first, knowing the woman I’d once called sister…

“Jenny,” I started with a catch in my voice.

“He wasn’t whole when he came home from Culloden.” Jenny sounded cold and far away, but there was something reaching out toward the space between us. I stayed quiet and let her settle into what she was trying to share with me. “His body was there, but his soul… it was… wi’ you I suppose. Wherever that was. Thank God his leg had been slashed apart or he’d have run away from me and gone to join ye. As it was, I had the stronger arm and will of the twa of us. And I wielded it. I’m no healer like you, but I managed it fine enough. He still has the leg, does he no?”

“He does.” I answered matter of factly, having heard from Jamie a few days ago her exact means of keeping it. “You did well, Jenny.” I held back my prior judgment on her methodology.

“Fergus sat with him day and night. Asked what had happened to ye. But Jamie wouldna say a word. About Culloden, you, anything. He only laid there til it was time to force down the tea or broth I’d bring him. He didnae even cry.” Jenny continued to stare straight into the yard, not meeting my eyes. “Eventually, I set Fergus back to his chores. Told him only he could do this or that the right way and to go show Wee Jamie how he did it. I didna want him seeing the only parent he had left that way. Jamie had nothing to give him then.”

Jamie had clearly held back what he had shared with me over the past few days, just as I had. Even last night, when anger had knocked down the walls we’d carefully kept up to protect each other from the harder truths of our time apart, he had kept these details to himself. He was always better at that than me— controlling what he allowed to be revealed. “I didn’t want to leave them. Jamie, Fergus, you. Any of you.” I’m sure she heard me, but she wasn’t ready to be interrupted yet.

“As soon as he was able, he left the house for the cave. Fergus would go out to visit him sometimes or wait for him to come back to Lallybroch from a hunt. I didnae go to the cave m’self. I couldna bare to see it. See him. There. Livin’ like an animal in the woods, nary a voice left in him. The bairns would share stories from what Fergus told ‘em, about Red Jamie turned into the Dunbonnet. He was their hero. But my brother was gone. The Redcoats would come prodding about every couple o’ months, harassing the tenants and taking Ian wi’ ‘em. One day Fergus got it in his heid to harass them back. He led them through a false path, away from home and away from Jamie. They caught on and he teased ‘em, the damned fool. That’s when he lost his hand, ye ken.”

“Fergus told me he had lost it fighting them, but not the exact details.”

“Aye. Jamie couldnae do anythin’ to stop it. That was the first time in all those years that I saw him cry. He still hasna forgiven himself for it.”

“Of course not. Neither have I.” I said the words before I really knew what I was saying. Was I admitting that I didn’t forgive myself either? That I didn’t forgive Jamie for Fergus? For sending me and Brianna away? There was so much that had happened twenty years ago; and in the time since, for all of us. I had had some of it out with Jamie already, but I hadn’t really had the chance to sit with it all quite yet and I couldn’t deny the bitterness that lingered.

“Nor have I.” Jenny replied and the same questions remained of her sentiment as I was asking myself. “That’s when he decided he’d have me turn him in. Said that prison would be no worse than the one he was already in and that we’d all be safer, better off. When he walked into the yard, I could finally see him again. My bráthair. He’d been gone for so long, and he’d come back just long enough to leave me again. They dragged him out to the wagon and I didna ken if or when I’d see him again. I yelled after him that I’d never forgive him. Part of me was putting on the show he said I should, but I also meant every word.”

I sat still, waiting for Jenny to look at me. She finally did and I saw the tears building up in her eyes. She was trying to hold them back, but even she had a limit to the strength of the dam she could put up. And it was cracking. I met her gaze and they started to fall.

“I’m angry too, Jenny. I didn’t want to go. He made me…” How could I finish that thought? I couldn’t tell Jenny everything. Jamie made it clear he didn’t think she could handle the truth. But I needed to make things right between us. As right as they could be,at least. She had bared her anger and truth to me and I owed her the same, however I could manage it. Jamie and I had promised each other we could have secrets, but not lies. Even if I hadn’t made the same vow to Jenny, I felt I owed it to her in some form as well. “He made me tell him goodbye. He didn’t intend to make it back from the battlefield, but he wouldn’t let me follow him. I would have died with him there. But you know your brother.”

“Aye, I do.”

“I couldn’t come back here and endanger your family either. So, he sent me away. And there wasn’t a day that I didn’t think about him and love him in these past twenty years. I missed all of you, terribly. And there was hardly a day that I wasn’t angry at him either. I still am. But I knew he did it to give me a life, one I hadn’t particularly wanted, but I figured I owed it to him to try…” Of course, I couldn’t tell her about Bree. There’d be no way to explain it without the full truth. But having Bree made it easier for me to forgive Jamie, at least for sending me back through the stones. I lived each day of those first months for the promise I had made him to go on, then for her once she had arrived, until one day I found I could finally go on for myself too. I stopped seeing him in every little thing she did and she became her own person, whom I loved just for her. But sometimes, like when I caught her smiling in her sleep just like he did, the grief would sneak back in and hold on tighter until I thought I might burst, but I was grateful even for that. Feeling the grief meant he was still with me. Now, though, Jamie and I were where we never thought we’d be until our times on Earth were done— back with each other. And there were casualties. Bree was the first and foremost thought for me when I decided to come back to Jamie. But Jenny and Ian’s family, Fergus, and (even as much as I hated to admit it) Laoghaire and her children were among those too.

“So,” Jenny started again, “we’re both mad at Jamie then.” I saw the corner of her mouth turn up the slightest bit and the cat-like lids of her Fraser eyes pulled together, creasing at the sides.

“And each other...” I smirked back. “But we’ve made it through both those things before.” I reached for her hand and she didn’t pull it away.

“I had a vision of ye once, ye ken. On the day Jamie and Laoghaire got married. Ye were standing right there on the altar betwixt them. I thought you’d come to haunt me for it… I asked yer forgiveness then. I just wanted him to have a life again. A family. To be alive.”

“I understand, Jenny. I had to make a life for myself too and it wasn’t easy. I can’t take back these twenty years, none of us can. But I came back as soon as I knew where he was. I’m here now and I’m not going anywhere. He’s my husband and you are all my family.”

“You were a sister to me.” She looked briefly at me and then away again.

“I loved you too, Jenny. Still do.” We sat there for a time in a silence that wasn’t necessarily comfortable, but that held a gentler ease, until Jenny stood, brushed her skirts, and declared “alright, then.” I followed suit and we both went inside. She went to the kitchen and I went to see Jamie where I’d left him on the chaise by the hearth.

Jamie lifted his head and flinched a bit as he adjusted himself to see me. “Ye both made it through alive then, Sassenach?”

“Yes, we did. We found some common ground.”

“Did ye then?”

I went to the table to fill his tea and pour myself a whisky. I glanced over my shoulder at him as I did, “Being angry at you.”

“Och, suppose I had that coming. Still, glad I could help,” he smirked at me.

“She told me things you’d left out these past few days. About what it was like when you came back to Lallybroch after Culloden.”

“I dinna like to think of that time, let alone speak of it. I told ye the gist of it well enough.”

“Your sister painted a more vivid picture.” I sat down beside him, felt his forehead, and ran my hand down the side of his cheek to his chin and stroked his stubble with my thumb. “I’m sorry, Jamie.”

“As am I, Sassenach—“

“No more lies. No more secrets. Not between us, not anymore. We’ve both lived a half life, or several of them,” I smiled softly at my husband who I had heard called by many names since I’d come back, “and if we expect to be what we’ve always been, then we have to trust each other with every part of those lives.”

“As ye say, mo nighean donn. Do ye forgive me then?”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, shall we? But, I’m working on it.” I kissed him gently. “Your sister may need a bit more convincing, though.”

“Aye, weel that goes both ways, but I’ll worry about that in a bit…” He lifted his good arm and ran his fingers through the curls starting to fall down around my ear and I closed my eyes and leaned into his touch. I’d never known another man who could be both so fierce and tender at the same time. Only Jamie.

“Jamie, I need to ask you something.” He nodded for me to continue. “Jenny told me how hard it was for Fergus, after…” I paused and swallowed—every time I had had to say the word Culloden, I could feel the bile rise in my throat. Jamie could see it plainly on my face and made it clear I didn’t need to say it now. “Do you think he can ever forgive me? For leaving him behind? For not being here for either of you?” I started to cry and Jamie wrapped his arm around me. I settled into my place in the crook of his neck and let my tears fall on his shoulder.

“Dinna fash, Sassenach,” he stroked soothingly up and down my back. “Ne’er in twenty years has he spoken an unkind word about ye and he willna now.”

“That was before. He thought I’d died, Jamie! Now, he thinks I just left! Everyone does.” I could feel the heat creeping up all around my face as every emotion I felt mixed together and revealed themselves.

“Shh…” he continued his gentle ministrations. “I left him too, mo ghraidh, and worse.”

“Jenny told me what happened to his hand.”

“Aye. Do ye hate me for it?”

I pulled back to look straight into his azure eyes so that he’d know I meant what I was saying— “Of course not.” I’d resolved my feelings on that part at least. “You may all be dead if you’d tried to stop them.” I kissed him in an ardent demonstration of my appreciation that he and Fergus were still here.

“I couldna be there for him and then the only way I could was by leaving. He doesna seem to hate me for it and he willna hate ye either. Fergus kens yer heart, Claire, even if he doesna ken the whole story.”

“I hope you’re right.” We bent our foreheads towards one another until we met in the middle, taking comfort in one another’s touch and gaze. He took my hand and held it to his chest between us as I brushed my nose against his and thought about how familiar he still felt to me. He was still my Jamie and I was still his. Whatever else may come, that truth remained blessedly unchanged.

#jamie fraser #outlander #claire fraser #jamie x claire #fergus fraser #jenny murray #my fic

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wetcatspellcaster · 5 months

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For the DVD meme chp 10: (sorry if this is more than 500 words!)

“Tell me how I get you to love me,” he demanded.

“Oh, Astarion…”

Rosalie blushed all the way to the tips of her ears, eyes falling to her lap again. Mortification and eagerness to give him the answer he wanted warred within her, until she blurted:

“I already love you. That’s never been the problem, has it? If I could stop myself, maybe we’d both be more normal about this. But I’ll always love you. I always have and always will, so much so that it hurts.”

Silence reigned in the dining room, after that pronouncement.

When it stretched out too long, Rosalie peeked up through her lashes at him. She’d been worried he’d be angry, but what she instead caught a glimpse of was the Vampire Ascendent, lost for words.

“...Tell me,” he said, finally. “Rosalie, how much do you love me?”

Some part of Rose rebelled, but it was like thrashing under a heavy blanket. She’d been given an order. There was only so long she could hold out, when the order didn’t do her any harm.

“You’re still all I think about, all the time,” she admitted, cheeks burning as her body reacted to the admission, even as her mind faded to pleasing white static. “I have this life, and sometimes all I can see is all the ways you’re not in it. I mourn you, and how much I failed you, and I see you in front of me, and I still want you, as if that’s what I deserve. I love you so much, right now, that it’s like a weight in my chest. I love you so much that the person in front of me is enough to quell the ache, and that’s why I didn’t trust myself to come back. Sometimes, on some days, all the parts that are horrible seemed like they might be worth it, and on other days they faded away entirely. I didn’t mind if it was awful, I just wanted to be near you again. I love you so much that even though I know you’d treat me horribly and get bored of me and probably one day hate me, sometimes I think that’s how it’s supposed to be. At least then, you wouldn’t be alone.”

Thank you for playing the game with me, lovely anon! x

Ahhh. Open and honest communication. The one thing a fic writer dreams of having, so that the two avoidant idiots they're trying to make kiss actually talk about their feelings.

Such a shame I had to achieve it here via vampiric charm, eh?

Obviously, this sucks for Rosalie - it's forcing her to confront some stuff that she's not wanted to face about herself (namely that, maybe you weren't making out with that man in his office to plant items on him, just maybe something else was going on), but it's also enforced vulnerability, that isn't offered by choice. So she's honestly fiercely angry, and humiliated, and this is a moment where she's trying desperately to fight the charm but can't.

Every word is true. I do think Rosalie is still very much in love with him - we see from the first chapter, that she has indeed built this quite lavish, career driven life, and it's all about Astarion, and how to stop him, and how eventually she'll have to kill him. I imagine it's plagued her every waking moment for years, honestly.

I do also stand by the idea that there have been times when she was tempted to go live that Ascended life - the only thing that stopped her each time isn't really Ascended!Astarion's personality (heinous though it is, let's be honest, she has proven already she can adapt and still find things to love) but the fact that he wants to make her a vampire as well, which she doesn't want and has never wanted.

I imagine she's gotten very, very lonely at times, and there's only one person she's wanted in those moments. I also imagine there's been some times when, like Wyll and Karlach, she's imagined him as lonely, or made a narrative about how they've all abandoned him, and felt such intense guilt that she wants to make it right.

As for Astarion's reaction... lol. He's not really ever thought she loved him since she left - because why would she leave, if that was the case? In Chapters 5-7, he sought of entertained that she might still be hot for him, and thus susceptible to some version of love (exactly like Act 1 in the game lmao).... and then she Power Word Killed him. The earlier part of this chapter, where he says that the main offensive thing is that she cut him off mid-speech is a TOTAL lie - he's actually just panicking that she doesn't love him at all. So hearing that truth, that this is what love looks like, even as she's fighting him every step of the way... big deal for him.

Almost like love takes place between equals, and doesn't look like power and control, versus subjugation. Or something.

DVD commentary ask

#wip: pieces still stuck in your teeth #asks #anons #ask games #dvd commentary ask #bro really thought the woman who recognised him at Int 1 didn't actually love him. i'm just saying. they're both low wis legends.

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bitchesgetriches · 2 years

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At my old school, they served lunch at one long table, and every grade had assigned seats. Even if no one liked you, you still sat with everyone.

But at my new school, there were dozens of small round tables. Students informally pulled chairs up wherever they pleased. Each table seemed to be dominated by a different clique. They all knew exactly where to find their people.

As I stood frozen in the doorway, I felt a fatalistic sureness: I’d go through the lunch line alone and exit it alone. Bullying trained me to fear the punishment that came from social presumption; I couldn’t possibly ask to sit at someone’s table.

I got into line pinching back tears, feeling like I was marching toward doom.

Then I felt someone tap their lunch tray against my back. Assuming it was an accidental jostle, I kept my eyes forward. But then it happened again. Tap tap.

I turned to see… how do I describe her?

Do you remember The Craft? Yeah—like that. Big The Craft energy. A thirteen-year-old girl who seemed, to my eyes, impossibly mature. Black lipstick. Dangling pentagram earrings. Long, long hair dyed deep scarlet. Impossibly tall, at least seven feet. A pale, beautiful face wearing an expression that terrified me: cold, indifferent teenaged edgelord coolness.

I honestly have no idea if that’s actually what this girl looked like, or if my eyes were just so unaccustomed to seeing anyone like her. Was her lipstick really black? Maybe it just seemed that way because it was my first encounter with a fashion-forward 90s matte brown lip. Obviously she couldn’t have actually been seven feet tall. She was just the sort of person who seemed like she should be.

“Do you have any friends that go here? Do you have someone to sit with?”

My heart started to pound. “Not really, no.”

“Mm.” She nodded, looking not at me but into a middle distance that cool people can gaze into upon command. “Well, you can come and sit with me if you want.”

So I followed her like a puppy. I thought we’d make for an empty table… but she beelined for a crowded one at the back. As we approached, everyone at the table turned and erupted with a delighted shout. “ELIZA!” A dozen people jumped up to hug her, high-five her, ask how her summer was. I hung back, overwhelmed, until Eliza pulled me forward.

“Guys, this is Lauren. She’s new, so be nice to her.”

A few days later, a girl named Erin approached me.

She was a nice, polite midwestern girl, and she ran with a modestly popular crowd. After some chit-chat, she lowered her voice. “Are you hanging out with Eliza?”

I brightened. “Yes! She’s soooo nice.”

Erin sighed and shook her head. “Be really careful around her. I don’t hang out with her personally, but I’ve heard all sorts of things.”

She leaned back and raised her voice again. “You can come and sit at my table today,” she said with a smile. There was no small amount of pity in her eyes. “I’ll introduce you to the right kind of people.”

I know what Erin meant when she said she could introduce me to “the right kind of people.” White midwestern Christians, straightlaced and well-behaved, attempting to pass for upper-class by way of Abercrombie shirts. The kind of people I had always tried to impress, hoping that a little bit of their acceptedness would rub off on me.

Eliza, on the other hand, was everything I was warned (explicitly and implicitly) I shouldn’t want in a friend. Everything about her loudly announced her individuality and disinterest in conformity. She was shamelessly, alarmingly different from everybody else.

But when I was at my most vulnerable, that first day in the lunch line, “the right kind” of students had all looked right through me. Not necessarily in a mean way—they were just too busy with their own lives to stop and introduce themselves to a stranger. No one had any way of knowing that the quiet girl standing in the lunch line was locked in a silent crisis, feeling like she was losing both her hope and her sense of self.

Eliza was the only one who looked at me instead of through me. Unlike Erin, she’d offered me empathy and extended her friendship easily, without conditions or prompting. It was a small, capricious act of kindness, but it forever changed my life for the better. She showed me with perfect clarity that there is no correlation between propriety and a true act of kindness. It was the permission I needed to stop stuffing myself inside the cage of other people’s expectations.

It also made me aware of the ways in which I judged people. I was an uptight asshole, by nurture if not nature. I spent the rest of that year learning to unclench myself.

Here’s what I hope you, dear readers, will take away from my story about a tiny act of kindness.

Changing someone’s life is a tall order. People are most ready to change when they’re at their most vulnerable. But people at their most vulnerable don’t usually announce “HELLO. I AM EXTREMELY VULNERABLE. HOW ‘BOUT YOU?” The right act of kindness, or cruelty, or indifference in one of these moments can cause an unpredictable, life-altering cascade of events.

You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be yourself.

You don’t have to be kind and brave and righteous all the time. Do an act of kindness when you have the inclination, opportunity, and energy for it. You don’t have to be happy to spread happiness, or feel brave to act with bravery. Sharing your power may feel meaningless when you’re the second-least powerful person in the room—but it matters so much to the person you share it with, the one and only person who has even less. Be generous, but don’t give yourself away. You don’t have to. When the moment is right, change will come with the tiniest of nudges.

You may never know what your actions mean to others. Like me, it may take years of introspection for the recipient to realize the momentousness of a fateful moment. It’s not unrealistic to think that you may have been somebody’s Eliza a hundred times over, completely changing their life for the better after some brief and inconsequential interaction. You may never know about it.

Eliza’s tiny act of kindness helped me directly. But it also helped so many more people indirectly. And I kinda hope that in the end, the person Eliza helped the most… was Eliza.

Readers, tell me about your Elizas. Has a chance encounter ever changed the course of your life for the better?

- A Simple Yet Life-changing Act of Kindness: Be Somebody’s Eliza

#random act of kindness

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starqueensthings · 1 year

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So I’ve been really struggling with the unexpected events of the season two finale, and I know a lot of us have been. We’ve all been grieving in different ways, but I wanted to share one of the coping mechanisms I used to help me get through the first couple days. I wrote these snippets from the perspective of Wrecker, Hunter, and Echo, as a sort of prayer or message to Tech. All three are based on the concept of heaven, or a peaceful afterlife, so if that’s not your thing, please carry on. And while I’m not overly religious, the concept of peace after death is something I find cathartic. Please enjoy, and hopefully this helps you like it has been helping me.

TW: implied death of a brother, angst, regret, self-blame, deep love for a brother.

Tech, if you can hear me

Part One: Wrecker

Part Two: Hunter (Regret)

“Tech, if you can hear me…

How did we get here? How did it come to this point? How are we down to only three?

We lost Crosshair first, and I really struggled with it in the beginning… I couldn’t believe he had chosen the Imperial path over us, inhibitor chip or not. But he made a decision, and I had to learn to respect it. At least, that’s what you told me. You made it make sense. You and he always did seem to understand each other on a deeper level.

Now, I’ve lost you too… and I still can’t wrap my head around it. None of us can. Everything around me tells me that you’re still with us. I can still smell the smoke from your soldering pen lingering in the air on the ship. I can still sense you in the pilots chair. I can almost hear you trying to explain the logic of Cid’s actions to Echo (who’s angrier than I’ve ever seen). But the reality is… all of it is a trick of the senses. You’re not here. We did lose you, and in the worst way.

I made a promise to myself that none of us would ever have to utter the words “plan-99”. That I would make sure, as our leader, that we would never be in a position where we’d need to use those words, or make that heavy of a decision. But so much changed too quickly. I was so busy trying to find a happier life for Omega, and trying to keep us off the radar of anyone that could hurt us, that I didn’t see my grip on our squad starting to slip. Imagine that, a guy with enhanced senses, so blind to everything around him.

A big part of me wants to apologize for letting you down… and the same part of me wonders if maybe I’m not fit to be a leader outside of war. It’s such uncharted territory. Our combat tactics aren’t effective anymore… our success rate seems like something so far in the past. These days, there’s so much that I don’t understand. How am I going to navigate it without you at my shoulder?

‘Times change, targets change.’ That’s what Guerrera said to us on Onderon, do you remember? Damn, was he right. I didn’t see it then. But I see it now. And when we saw him on Eriadu, he graced us with another dose of radical realism. ‘Sacrifices have to be made for the greater good.’

I’ve wondered every minute if it was his words that planted the seed in your head. You always did pick up on little anecdotes that the rest of us missed.

In fact, there’s a lot you contributed to this unit that went unnoticed, and it eats me alive now more than ever. I would trade my vibroblade… hell, even my bandana for one of your info dumps right now. Two minutes about anything. Please. Your silence is louder than anything.

This squad isn’t the same without you. Life isn’t the same without you. But if you can hear me, take this as a promise. We will be reunited, in this life or the next. We’re going to get Omega, we’re going to get Crosshair, and I will make sure, if it’s the last thing I do as the leader of this squad, that your sacrifice will not be for nothing. We will find peace, and we will see each other again, brother.

Hunter.”

*I would just like to clarify that, as a viewer, I place zero blame on Hunter for the events that unfolded. I harvest no ill feelings towards him, but I feel like he would innately want to shoulder the weight of the blame so that’s how I wrote this.

#the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb season 2 #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch season 2 #bad batch Tech #bad batch Hunter

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ellekhen · 1 month

Text

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 38 - To Dream Alone

Chapter Summary: Gale sits with Church as he consumes another tadpole. The tiefling's training with Tavi doesn't quite go as planned, and Church finds himself making a decision when faced with a literal wish come true.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 177K+ words; Chapters 39/54

Excerpt below:

Tavi looks preoccupied for a moment, before looking reproachfully back at him.

“All I want is for our world to be safe,” he says wearily. “For you to be safe. I thought that seeing this face would make you happy. I thought encouraging you to indulge in Astarion’s company would give you enough of something to live for. But I’ve seen your mind — you’re still the same fool, intent on being a martyr.”

“I don’t… live for people, Tav,” Church scoffs.

“No, but you do try to die for them,” Tavi says pointedly. “The whole point of these powers is for you to survive at the very least long enough to defeat the Absolute. So no, I will not give you one more means to destroy yourself.”

They both stand stock-still — facing each other in tense, reproachful silence.

“It’s not just for the sake of being a martyr,” Church says quietly. “Every terrible thing that has happened or is going to happen will be worth it if I can ensure the others come out of this intact. I want to protect my allies. My friends. Tav…” his voice shakes. “I wasn’t there to protect you. And I can’t let that happen again. Not to…”

“…Astarion?” Tav finishes for him flatly.

“Well, he’s… among my friends,” Church flounders. “So of course.”

“Hells, when will you admit that it’s more than that?” Tav asks exasperatedly.

The tiefling closes his eyes for a long moment, before sighing.

“Tav… I know that I really do care about him,” he admits, choked. “Like I haven’t cared about anyone else since… you. But I don’t think he feels the same way. I think I’m just a means to an end for him, but…”

“Maybe you just like to be used, petal!” Auntie Ethel had cackled spitefully.

Church looks defeatedly at his friend.

“I don’t think I’m meant to be with anyone, Tav. I’m condemned. I’ll either be consumed by shadows in a few days or, best case scenario, in sixty-some years I’ll be like Withers in the ruins — a caretaker for Mother’s temple until I die.”

He huffs frustratedly. “And I don’t know why I even bothered letting myself get attached to someone again, given that I know what’s to come…”

“You wanted to be known,” Tavi says gently.

Church eyes him, frowning at the similarity of his phrasing to Astarion’s that first night they spent together.

“You wanted to be known,” Tavi repeats gently. “You wanted to be seen and heard. Understood. Remembered. And Church… you are known.” He hesitates before gently brushing his hand against the tiefling’s cheek. “You are loved.”

His hand drifts slowly to the back of Church’s neck, and the tiefling’s breath hitches as he stares up at his old friend.

“I know everything about you,” Tavi murmurs to him. “Your hopes. Your fears. The things you’ve dreamt for a future you once never dared to imagine…” his mouth quirks up into a small, wistful smile. “…but you still imagined it, didn't you?”

“…yes,” Church breathes.

“So, what did you imagine?” Tavi asks him gently. “For a scared blacksmith’s boy, marching off to be a paladin for the sake of his father’s dream?”

Church closes his eyes, reaching up to press his friend’s hand to his face.

“I dreamed you wrote to me,” he chuckles ruefully. “Every month, like you promised. You came back to visit the village every summer, and it would be just like things were before. We’d run up to the top of the bell tower to watch the sunset. We’d tease Lydia and Mairead and prod them into sorting out their feelings faster.

“Your father would warm up to me, but…” Church scoffs, “...perhaps that’s the most improbable fantasy of all. Still, I’d have dinner with you both on occasion. He’d stop leaving the tavern as soon as I walked in, at least.

“I’d still set out from the village not too long after you, though,” he rambles. “I’d follow you to Neverwinter. I don’t think I’d try to be a paladin but maybe I’d join an adventurers’ guild there. I’d see you nearly every day we were both in town. Maybe we’d even work together. Either way, I could just… spontaneously meet you for drinks. Food. Maybe even dancing…”

He sighs, stepping closer to Tavi.

“…maybe eventually more, if that’s what we still wanted. Or maybe we’d have found someone else instead, but we’d still be friends. I’m certain of it.

“But…” he chuckles sheepishly. “I used to imagine that you’d be my… first. Or by some miracle I’d be yours, even though you had a couple years of the big city life on me. I imagined it would have been just as awkward as our first kiss, but still in that way just as perfect, you know?

“And then no matter how things turned out over the years, whether we drifted apart or stuck together, we truly would know each other. We wouldn’t have had to make up for years of growth over a stack of letters. We’d have already… had this.”

Church chokes on a sob as he curls his fingers against Tavi’s chest.

“They wouldn’t have taken this from us before we even got to try. I could have had… years. I could have stayed away from her and the shadows entirely and had a lifetime. I…”

His voice breaks off into a frustrated growl as his fingers clench into Tavi’s shirt.

“…you wouldn’t have had to feel so alone,” Tavi nods in understanding.

“Yeah,” Church says emptily, looking up into those infernal, honey-colored eyes. “…and neither would have you.”

Read from the beginning!

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aesterium · 2 years

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The first time Scott realized Pearl was taking this game seriously was when they’re green and she barricaded herself in the walls of his house.

It’s almost laughable, the coincidence; he remembers the way that Cleo stared at him, horrified, and he remembers the grain of relief he could see in her expression that at least Martyn had just built a horrendous house to try and get her back, not whatever Pearl must have done to muscle her way into Scott’s life. He tried to explain to Cleo that it was a slip of tongue that led to whatever strange scene she had walked into, a strange joke, even, but that was hard to get out as Pearl cackled from behind the hurried attempt at a wall she threw up behind her as she fled to a corner.

Up until then, Scott thought Pearl had gone– well, mental, frankly. He had all of the empirical evidence for it: the tower she built that loomed over the whole server, the obsessive way she spoke of a simple dog, even how she had methodically transformed herself into a spectre of the red self she had worn in a world prior, down to a red stain she rubbed into her palms religiously every night. Something had bugged him about that assumption, though, and even when he waved it away, a small niggling feeling at the back of his skull persisted.

That is, until now, when he’s staring at Pearl through a hole she had hacked through oak so she could watch the household drama that was him and Cleo, and he sees that she’s dropped some sort of act.

The high-pitched cackling and sinister curl of a smile was gone, replaced for a second by someone steely-eyed and calculating. Even though her eyes still glinted green (just like his), she narrowed her eyes slightly at the two of them, giving both cursory glances.

When they’re red, Scott will realize that, in that momentary lapse, she had already pinpointed the exact place she would later attack Cleo: the seams where her skin is (was) sewn together, a visible weak point that Cleo showed off rather than hiding behind armor. When they’re red and Pearl finds Scott on a familiar hill, he will see the blood on her hands and recall the last few messages in his communicator and see the cold determination hidden behind true mental fragmentation and realize that the most terrifying part of Pearl is that she had been far saner than anyone wanted to believe she was.

However, that’s then. This is now, and they’re green, and Pearl is cackling again, even as she tears the wall down (she does not slash into his walls, even by accident. no matter where they are, Pearl has always first and foremost been a builder, and builders do not hurt each others’ work) and scampers into the night.

“Your ex is a piece of work,” Cleo spits out.

“Why do you think she’s my ex?” he responds.

—

The first time Scott realizes that this was no longer a game for Pearl is when they’re freshly red and she stonily tells him she’s leaving him to join the larger group rather than seeking out Martyn and Cleo again.

“This is going to be the final day,” Scott tries to argue with her. “Who cares if they’re yellow? They won’t be for long.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.” The feeling that had been chewing on Scott all week grows slightly. “It’s safer, though. If we’re grouped together, that’s twice the damage we’d take.”

We’d be fighting each other then, he wants to shout at her. We’d be fighting each other, and isn’t that worse?

Scott remembers how Pearl had easily turned and held the blade of an axe to him at the mention of attacking Tilly (“Tilly’s my soulmate. You hurt her, I kill you.” “You’d die too, then!” “Good! I’d match her on yellow!”). He remembers how she turned the axe on Cleo and struck at her in earnest, mere minutes after revitalizing her own alliance with Martyn. When Cleo turned back to Scott, spitting vitriol, he saw the slash on her chest, neatly parallel to the seam that ran down it.

It’s when they’re sitting on the crest of a hill, staring at each other with no words left to exchange, that Scott wonders what the Watchers that Martyn once spoke so reverently (so fearfully) of would think of them. Scott, who would rather see the world broken than abide by cruel rules, and Pearl, his fated, who found two seeds of anarchy that sparkle in an abandoned chest, who decided that all the world could burn as long as she and her loved ones survive.

He wonders errantly if he counts as a loved one to her.

He hears the ghosts of the others whispering to him, and he knows she must also hear them. There can only be one. No armor, no weapons. Blood on the grass, blood in your mouths, feel the hurt you are inflicting on one another. It makes him feel ill, and in that nausea that tiny foreign feeling that he realizes in a delayed epiphany must be his link to Pearl twists in sympathetic disgust. They look at each other, the two game-breakers, and they stare in horror.

He thinks the Watchers must hate this denouement to their spectacle.

(a pearl is a gem formed from the introduction of grit in an oyster, she told him once. a pearl is something irritating, unwanted, typically discarded, that is taken and gently transformed through years of work into something far more valuable. imagine, she says, leaning back, her hands framing a star in the night sky, a tiny bit of sand washing down the ocean, not knowing that it would be covered in layers and layers of nacre.)

(nice metaphor, he said.)

(she snorted at that. i think i’d be rightfully annoyed if i was that bit of sand, she said. i’m not named after a pearl, though. technically, i’m just named for the moon.)

(and a moon reflects the glory of something far greater that burns eternally.)

Scott lets the spark fall from his hands, his triumph burning in the scream of the explosions beneath him.

#double life smp #double life spoilers #double life pearl #double life scott #dl!pearl #dl!scott #double life fic #not sure if i'm going to post this on ao3 yet. it's just a first draft #technically was meant to be a writing warm-up but here we are #i have no idea how canon compliant it is <3

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galwithalibrarycard · 1 year

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Tagged by @sonseulsoleil (thanks Charlie! Can’t wait to read more of your Heartstopper fics and see what you write for LOTR!) and by @monstrous-femme (I was gonna tag you in this, but you beat me to it!)

< Share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics, then tag ten people! If you’ve written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway. <

(From most to least recently posted on my AO3, so these are circa 2022 and 2021.)

1. plausible deniability (Beadick, Lolilo)

Beatrice Duke does not sneak into other people's empty flats, and certainly not to make out with her ex-boyfriend. She doesn't even have an ex-boyfriend! That is, not anymore.

What she does have is Ben, and that feels like a miracle, after they’d all but fallen apart under months of missed texts and truncated video calls and so many hours between them. As it turns out, though, even long-distance had proven less painful than actively staying away from each other has been.

2. diamonds (Satine/Nini, Moulin Rouge the Musical, rated M)

Nini is beautiful, and sensuous, and makes Satine’s blood boil. She’s the only person at the Rouge who isn’t intimidated by the mystique of the Sparkling Diamond. The only one brave enough to smack her on the ass on her way offstage or criticize her to her face when Satine drops a note or flubs a dance step, rare though that is. She challenges her.

3. a single thread of gold (Malina, Shadow & Bone, Modern AU)

She walks into the restaurant and there he is, at the table in the corner with his hands in his pockets and his long legs crossed lazily. Mal has his gaze trained on the couple in the center of the room, a blond boy in a too-fancy suit and a dark-haired girl in a blue cocktail dress. Mal and Alina are supposed to be watching for a signal, in case their friend Zoya wants them to bail her out of the blind date they’d set her up on.

4. what happens in group chat (Meg Winter & Beadick, Lolilo, post-canon texting fic)

Meg Winter’s Phone

Group Chat with: Bea babe, Bendy-dick

Meg: hey are you guys coming to my Oscars party next month? Tryna plan ahead

Bea babe: you’re having a party?!

Meg: duh, I’m an entertainment journalist I have to celebrate the Oscars Bea babe: nice, we’ll save the date then

Meg: speaking of save the dates…

Bea babe: shut up

5. with pure and piercing certainty (Malina, Shadow and Bone, winter fete canon divergence)

The shadow general has cold, cold eyes. As Kirigan sneers at him, those eyes fill Mal with a mortal fear, because this man has had Alina in his power for months. A man with eyes like that- he could have done anything to her, to make her serve him, to keep her from writing, all these months. There will be no waiting for an escort or a summons. Mal needs to find Alina now.

6. you keep me up at night (Offspring (TV), Nina x Zara, rated E)

Nina Proudman’s mouth goes dry. She’s lying in her bed, and in front of her is Zara Perkich, clad only in a lacy black g-string and a positively dirty smirk.

“Like what you see?” she asks, knowing the answer by the dilation of Nina’s pupils and her sudden inability to produce words.

7. on the doorstep (Beadick, Lolilo, Bea is in on the rules for matchmaking reasons)

“It’s 9:45, Benedick, you’re being ridiculous!” Beatrice snaps, her fingers curled around the doorframe so he can’t shut her out. It’s only been a day, and she’s already done with this tent business.

“I’m sorry, it’s the rules-” Ben starts, going pink with embarrassment.

8. in every universe (Beadick, NMTD/Lolilo)

i. Game of Thrones

“We’d be so dead in this universe,” Ben points out as the GoT credits roll. “We’d still find each other first, of course, and you’d try to seize the throne at some point for sure.”

9. Short Shorts and Knee-Highs (Beadick, NMTD/Lolilo, post-canon)

Beatrice finds her boyfriend lounging on the little loveseat in their hotel room, his head propped up on one couch arm. Ben is channel surfing with the tv volume off, clearly lost in the kind of enjoyable boredom you only experience on holiday. His body is too long for the shitty little hotel couch, legs dangling over the edge of the far armrest. He looks up and smiles as she walks in.

10. A Shower of Sparks (Malina, Shadow and Bone)

From the moment she lays eyes on Mal in the woods, Alina feels that she can breathe again.

Being in the Little Palace was like stuffing herself into a smaller and smaller box every day, despite the good friends she’d made there and the rush of using her powers. She shoves aside the shame of having been fooled and toyed with; there’s no time for that now. Now she’s free, under the open sky, with her favorite person in the world by her side again. With her powers released and her hand in Mal’s, she feels better than she has in a long time, maybe ever.

I tag: @nbshrubberry @miz-chase and anyone else who sees this, writes fic, and feels like sharing their work! :)

#galwithalibrarycard fic tag #tag games #tag memes #i did also recently post some backdated stuff to ao3 that had gotten lost on my tumblr #but that's not recent writing so i didn't mention those fics here

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