#‘Sorry I scared you when I asked where I could find the burglar”’

[meteors-lotr]

I think Thorin should be glad he died, because if he survived you know Bilbo is gonna drag is ass all around middle earth to make him apologize to basically everyone they met on that journey for a variety of different things, and I don’t think his pride could have handled that

[bruisedkisss]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || 𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 ➶

 summary: you spend the night with ellie after accidentally getting locked out of your home

18+ smut warnings: making out, mutual pinning, language, sub ellie idc, r gives ellie a hickey, fingering (e receiving), oral (e receiving), overstimulation, tit groping

word count: 2.6k

It’s been a long day.

You and a couple of friends had volunteered to help clean up the alleyways on the far side of Jackson— the alleyways people don’t usually walk by. You were supposed to go alone, you used cleaning as some sort of way to reduce your anxiety- something to clear your head. 

However, when you were heading out to your what you called your daily manic cleaning episodes, sweeping alleyways that were anything less than clean. Your friends saw you on your walk over there— almost sneaking up on you – and decided to tag along, saying phrases such as, 

“It’ll be good for our community.”

“Group bonding.”

“Karma points, right?”

Really they felt bad for you. You could tell they didn’t want you to be lonely– but that was exactly what you wanted.

Now here you are— a quarter after midnight on your house porch. Locked outside your house. Trembling from the frigid air– your hands wrapped around your arms are barely warming you. All you want to do is take a hot shower and snuggle in bed, maybe sleep in for one time.

Was it always this cold at night? Shit- you don't know, all you know is that you’re locked outside your house with nothing but a street lamp lighting up your porch.

You could have sworn you had had your key on you. Fuck– maybe you dropped it on your walk back. 

You’re never finding it in this dark and there’s no way any of the town’s locksmiths are awake.

Fuck it.

You start franticly tugging the doorknob and your shitty door hinges allow your door to look like it might open– but it’s getting you absolutely nowhere. It starts squeaking, you’re making so much noise– but you don’t care.

It’s too cold to care.

You’re about a minute in looking like you’re about to burglarize your own home until you hear a voice call your name. You turn around almost immediately.

“Ellie??” You noticed the voice right away– you can't help but feel excited “Holy fuck you scared me!” you shiver from the cold air– seeing your breath as you exhale. “Oh fuck sorry...” Ellie curses, “I was just getting back from patrol, and well I um– heard noise coming from your house and was just checking to see if you were okay” she stammered.

Oh well, you feel embarrassed now. Just when you thought things couldn’t get worse, the girl you like catches you locked outside your house in the middle of the night.

Ellie was your neighbor. You met her a while back when you first moved here. Away from the horrors outside Jackson. She was so pretty— from the way she carried herself, she was so charming without even trying. You would always try to get her attention, finding ways to have a conversation no matter how brief.

With her living right next to you... those conversations happened almost every day.

You know, the regular neighborly acts.

It usually went from you asking her if she had any spare movie DVDs she could lend you (and vice versa), to you wishing her luck whenever she went on patrol. You noticed Ellie could never look you fully in the eyes.

You would also hang out every now when you saw her at events held in Jackson. Mostly with a group of other people. It still counts, right? 

You could never tell if Ellie liked you back. She probably didn’t even know you liked girls.

“Oh.” you chuckle. “I just got back from volunteer hours and got locked out.” your hand gestures to your door.

“I can see that.” Ellie laughs as she walks up the steps to your front porch. Ellie approaches where you stand you can’t help but feel your cheeks heating up.

You hate that about her. All she does is exist you can’t help but be all over her.

She not-so-subtly looks you up and down– noticing your stiff frame. “You must be so cold.” Ellie grins.

“Freezing.” 

“Well um-” she starts, you already know what she’s going to say, trying to hide the way the corners of your mouth twitch up.  “You can come over and bunk on my couch for the night,” she uttered.

“There’s this DVD I found while out on patrol a few days ago and,” she tilts her head slightly, “I thought you would like it so I was saving it for you… I just couldn’t find a good time to give it to you,” Ellie’s so close to you. You can smell firewood and a hint of metallic whiff. Maybe from blood.

 “If you want we could watch it together,” she mutters.  If it was anyone else, you would have declined and just suffered in the cold– you wouldn’t want to bother people because you were dumb enough to get locked out of your own house. But this wasn’t just anyone else.

It’s Ellie– plus she’s asking you to spend the night. You weren’t going to waste an opportunity.

“Alright… since you’re offering” you whisper in her ear. “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“Well let’s hurry.”  she lends you her hand, urging you to grab it. You feel just how rough her palms are. “I swear if I’m out here for another minute my ass is gonna fall off.” you laugh as you both make your way along the pathway.

After you both arrive at her house, you and Ellie take turns showering. She insisted you shower first since she knew you were already having a shitty day. As well as lending you pajama shorts and an oversized shirt to borrow. While it’s Ellie’s turn to shower, you’re seated on her bed as you observe your surroundings. Her house is pretty tidy for someone as frantic as she can be. Layered with a cozy brown and gray shade– pretty tiny which makes sense since it’s only her here. In front of her bed sits her wardrobe with her TV on top. Along with it are a bunch of film DVDs from the eighties, nineties, to the early two thousands, next to a few comic books. 

Just when you decided to lie down while you wait. You hear the bathroom door open. Ellie comes out wearing plaid sweatpants and a plain black t-shirt. Her short auburn hair is wet and her eyes seem to have more light in them than they did right after she got off patrol. “Comfortable?” she remarks.

“Now that you’re here,” you say with a grin on. You’re flirting with her now– you’re on her bed and flirting with her. “So are we watching this movie or not.”

“Yeah yeah,” she says rolling her eye. Walking over to the disc player by her TV. You see the case in her hand. Sixteen candles. Looks like it was filmed in the eighties, you remember her mentioning she preferred older films.

Ellie carefully takes the disc out of the case and inserts it into the player. Plopping herself on the bed, making an effort to smooth out the bedsheets. Something tells you that you won’t be sleeping on that couch tonight.

 As the movie goes on she shifts herself closer to your body. You can smell her body wash from the shower, and you pretend like you don’t notice the glances she gives you every now and then. You both haven’t spoken since the movie started- besides the few remarks whenever the movie got interesting. 

You raise your arms so you can sit up on her bed. “You said you found this movie on patrol and thought I would like it right?” you lay down on your side, facing her now. “Why’s that?” 

“Oh uh, you know.” her frame mirrors yours as she moves on her side, propping her arm so her head is resting on her hand. “It’s romantic, a comedy and you're a pretty funny person and naturally romantic from what I can tell.”

“I am?” you say scrunching your face. She laughs at your visible confusion. She’s sitting up now– focusing all her attention on you. If it was even on the movie, to begin with. “Yeah?? Have you heard your jokes? It's like you’re a human joke book except less cheesy, remember that one time when-.” 

“No I meant the romantic part,” you cut her off. Sitting up crisscrossed as you lean towards her frame. Your hands resting on your lap. Ellie looks up at you as she does the same, carefully thinking about what she’s going to say next. 

“You have your moments,” she leans forward– her hands grab the ones on your lap. Her palms are sweating but you don’t mind. Her cheeks start to grow flush and that’s when you realize your effect on her.

 “I’m not sure if you do it on purpose,” she whispers “In the morning when you look at me with,” she pauses, looking over to her right as she tries to avoid your gaze. “I dunno.. those eyes as you tell me to be safe on patrol, or when you touch my shoulder when you tell me how good the movie I recommended to you was.”

You’re shocked, nevertheless. You softly smile as Ellie begins to ramble. “It happens every time. But I can’t help but hate myself because I didn’t flirt back when I knew how much better my life would be if I had you.”  

When she sees your widen eyes and a grin forming, a look of regret starts to plaster her face. “It’s stupid I’m sorry, I guess that’s just what I want to believe, that you were flirting with me because you wanted me, not just as a friend but-” her sentence is cut short as you press your lips on hers. Ellie’s lips feel warm and soft in this manner and you both lean further into the kiss. Your hands let go of hers– grabbing the sides of her face as her tender hands land on your waist. 

Ellie’s plush lips move against yours in a breathless motion and you feel your heart pumping faster. As your grip on her face tightens, your hands quickly heat up her cheeks. Or is she just blushing— you can’t tell at the moment. Ellie’s whole face and body searingly yet gently lean into you, and the struggle to sit up straight creeps up on you.

The soft kiss quickly becomes more wet and erotic as you moan into it, giving her tongue a way to slip through your lips. “Lay back.” you moan against her lips. She brings you with her when she does, pulling your hips to straddle her waist. Your mouth is on hers again in an instant as you slowly grind against her, Ellie’s hands flow with the rhythm of your moving waist. Encouraging your movements. 

Your lips start traveling down, giving her jaw a few pecks before you start kissing the side of her neck. “Oh fuck,” Ellie gasped between moans when you start sucking the front of her neck, backing up and panting at the sight of a mark forming.

Ellie chases your lips with hers when you begin to undo the strings of her sweatpants. Her hands cup the side of your face as she maneuvers out of her pants along with her shirt– revealing her braless chest. The only thing attached to her body are gray panties with a wet patch on display.

The feeling of her tongue getting lost along yours as if you both weren’t thinking at the moment. Ellie knew she wouldn’t forget this anytime soon and will definitely remember the touch of your hands as they fell on her boobs.

“Mhm fuck,” Ellie whines as your hands make contact with the flesh of her tits, massaging them, her tongue tracing your lips, softly biting your bottom lip before letting it go with one last kiss.

“Take your shirt off,” Ellie whines as she feels up on your stomach and breast through your shirt. “Please, it’s not fair I’m the only one practically naked.” 

“Alright, since you asked so nicely,” hands are placed on the hem of your shirt. Ellie stares in awe as the girl straddling her hips unclips her bra. Her hands are already on the move to grab your breast until she sees your body move further down the bed as your head passes her belly button. This way, your head is between her thighs.

She sees your seductive face looking up at her, asking for permission. Ellie gladly gives you it– lifting her hips as you take off her underwear. Ellie’s soaked as your middle and ring finger rub along her entrance, slipping in so easily. Ellie begins to whimper out your name when your fingers penetrate her needy cunt.

“You like that?” you asked, slowly curling your digits inside of her, turned on at the sight of her biting her lip. You continuously move your fingers in and out of Ellie’s wet cunt as your other hand pushes down on her stomach when she tries arching her back. She couldn't help but navigate her palm on the back of your hand, interlocking with your fingers.

“-fuckkkk” she drags out, “that feels so fucking good, fuck- keep going baby.” Ellie moans even louder now as she feels the liquid from her drenched cunt drip onto the mattress. The more your fingers thrust in and out, the wetter and more desperate she got. Ellie began moving along the fingers gilding inside her pussy when you took your restricting hand away from her stomach. It wasn’t long till Ellie felt the excitement in her lower stomach grows hotter before cumming all over your finger.

“I can make it feel better,” your voice lowered as your mouth made its way to her clit, you sucked hard, giving Ellie a sting of overstimulation. 

You resume thrusting your finger in her, curling them into her sweet spot or sucking firmly on her clit if she got too quiet. “Mm fuck I’m close babe don’t stop,” she pants out, head tilting back as her orgasm takes over.

“That’s it, Ellie,” you respond against her clit, keeping a steady pace until you felt your fingers become damp once again. “There you go babe” you stare at Ellie’s face, noticing how pink she’s gotten from what just happened. It made you feel so satisfied you could get a girl like Ellie to blush so deeply.

Ellie tilts her head down so she’s staring at you. There’s nothing less than lust in her eyes when she looks at you and down at the mess she caused. Her eyes follow your frame when you lean down from the bed. You reach over to grab your discarded shirt on the ground to wipe her down. Ellie whimpers at the feeling of the cloth touching her core.

You break the silence as you lift up a blanket to cover the both of you up, “It’s very late now Els– and we both have to wake up early tomorrow so we should-”

“Hold on a second,” You’re cut off when Ellie suddenly grabs your waist and shifts on top of you, caressing your cheek as she does. “I don’t think it’s fair you gave me the best two orgasms of my life while you haven’t even been touched yet.”

“Ellie I-” you stammer, feeling her hand grope your bare breast, and they hastily move down to your hips. Ellie removes both your shorts and underwear at the same time, revealing everything she wanted to see.

You look over at her small television as the movie credits come along, glancing over at the digital clock next to it that reads 3:02 AM.

It looks like you’ll have to rewatch it with her another day.

a/n: svudjfrsdhufe first fic on my new blog what. I was a little doozy on sleeping pills while writing this and I'm not sure if ellie’s ooc or not 😭. Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

[xbadgerbearx]

chapter 5: familiar

word count: 2.5k

Sonata in Darkness: [4] ... [6]

When Selina was done talking to Batman, you returned from the bathroom, took the contacts back and pocketed them. Selina’s face was hard to read.

“How do you know about this ‘bat signal?’”

You didn’t know how to respond for a second. “He showed me.”

“When.”

“…After I got done scouting the recycling plant.”

Selina let out a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Are you hiding things from me?”

“What? No! Selina, I didn’t mean to—“

“To what? Make me worry? Not tell me the truth?”

“Okay,” you started. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you everything and for making you worry. To be honest, I was worried that you would have been mad about Batman. You don’t really seem to like him.”

“There’s hardly anything about him to like,” she huffed as a small smile crept onto her face. “Anyways, I know you didn’t really want to go, but now I guess you have to take me.”

“Why?”

“He wouldn’t tell me exactly where to meet him. All he said was, ‘The bat signal’ and that you knew how to get there.”

“I was barely there, he just told me to drop him off at the building it was in.”

“Well, that’s more knowledge than me, so I guess you’re coming.”

It scared you a little to see him. Batman almost died saving you. Nervously, you both got dressed in your suits again and shared a motorcycle to make it easier. Finding the elevator took longer than you thought, but seeing Batman’s silhouette along the tower’s edge was a pretty good indication that you were in the right spot. 

“Cat burglars pulling another score?” He was a little guarded.

“What?” Selina asked as you both pulled off your bike helmets. You stayed quiet and settled yourself a ways away from Batman. This was Selina’s situation; she was the one that wanted Batman’s help. 

The man lowered his voice and looked at you with a surprising softness. “Wasn’t sure I’d see you again.” You gave him an uneasy smile.

“I, uh, wasn’t sure you were alive,” you admitted. “I was worried about you…Scared, even.” Batman’s chest felt warm; ‘you worried about him?’

Selina was pacing back and forth, frustrated. “How could they do that to her? That piece of shit cop, Kenzie. Her body was in his car. I’m gonna find him and I’m gonna make him pay. You gonna help me?” 

“Help you?”

“Yeah. I thought you were ‘Vengeance.’”

“There’s no need.”

“What?” Selina looked pissed. “What do you mean there’s no need for vengeance? He killed—“

“—Because she’s not dead,” Batman revealed. You and Selina were stunned. “My sensors picked up a faint pulse on her. When I chased after Penguin, I had a… police friend tail Kenzie’s car. She’s in emergency care, somewhere safe and hidden.”

You couldn’t believe it. She was okay! Thankfully, Selina voiced your thoughts aloud. “Why didn’t you tell us?” Teary-eyed, she tried calming herself down.

“You didn’t think I tried? You’re not exactly the easiest to get in contact with.” You approached Batman and reached for his hand, but something within Batman quickly snapped and he snatched his hand away; his whole demeanor changed. It was as if he remembered something he was upset about. There was a beat of silence as Batman turned to you and got directly in your face, invading your space. “…was it worth it?”

“Excuse me?”

“Compromising yourself for money?” You didn’t know how to respond, but how dare he judge you for your actions. You needed that money and it sure as hell was gonna come from Oz one way or another. Selina joined you in glaring at him. “What’d you have to do to set up that score? How close did you have to get to Penguin? To Falcone—“

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” Selina barged, but Batman ignored her. He was slowly taking steps toward you, making you back away cautiously. 

“—there is some kind of relationship, right? Back in the club. Why would his behavior be like that to you? Why else would he bring you along to Mitchell’s funeral?” He was getting angry, and your anger morphed into fear. He stopped walking when your heels grazed the edge of the building—you had to hold onto his shoulder to keep from falling back but his composure didn’t change. “Did you do something for Falcone to owe you?” He was intimidating; he was scaring you.

Selina had enough. “He owes me!”

“Owes you?” Batman backed away from you and approached Selina. You shakily released a breath of air that you didn’t know you were holding.

“Yeah, and a lot more!”

“Oh really,” he smirked. “Why’s that?”

“You know what? I can’t even talk to you.” Selina turned for the elevator but Batman grabbed her arm.

“No! I want to know why a guy like Falcone would owe you anything—“

Selina shouted, “Because he’s my father!” You took your place beside Selina, making sure to avoid Batman’s eye contact. Selina calmed down. “My mother worked at the 44 Below…just like Anni,” she met your eyes. “…and just like her. She used to take me there when I was a little girl.”

“…to the club?” Batman’s demeanor had changed; he was softer.

“Yeah,” she continued. “I hid out in the dressing room while she worked. Used to see him there. He scared the shit outta me,” she whispered the last part. “I could never understand why he looked at me the way he did. Then one night, my mother told me who he was…” The man glanced at you before studying Selina. “When I was seven, my mother was murdered…strangled. They never found out who—probably some creep from the club. Anyway, social services came to take me away and he didn’t say a thing. Couldn’t even look at me.” She looked away briefly before meeting Batman’s eyes. “He owes me that money.”

Taking Selina’s hand into yours, you squeezed it affectionately. She squeezed back.

Batman was silent for a while, studying the both of you. “…I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” she said. “You assume the worst in people—-but it’s not me you need to apologize to.” She squeezed your hand again before dropping it and taking a step back. You avoided Batman’s gaze.

“I’m… sorry. For everything.” Your eyes flickered to his before looking away again. “I keep assuming that—“

“‘’s alright,” you interrupted. You didn’t want to have this conversation. Not in front of Selina. “It’s like you both said, you ‘assume.’” You took a step closer to the man, not daring to go any closer after earlier. Batman closed the distance for you. “Who are you under there?” Your hand ventured to his mask, just barely hovering over his face. His hand took yours and pressed it against his cheek.

“Who am I?” His lip twitched up briefly, ghosting a smile. “I don’t even know your name.”

“I guess we both have some secrets,” you chuckled. “You hideously scarred behind that mask?”

“‘I guess we both have some secrets,’” he echoed softly. He smiled at you before you smiled back. Selina rejoined the conversation and your hand dropped.

“If we don’t stand up for people like Anni, no one will. All anyone cares about in this place are those… white, privileged assholes—the mayor, the commissioner, the D.A.—and now Thomas and Bruce Wayne. Far as I’m concerned, that psycho’s right to go after those creeps. I think you’d be on his side.”

Batman’s tone changed. Solemnly, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘Thomas and Bruce Wayne?’”

“What, you live in a cave?”

“The Riddler’s latest,” you informed. “It’s all about the Waynes.”

“Listen,” Selina interjected. “If I can find that dick bag Kenzie, will you help me? Please?”

Batman made no moves. Sliding your hands up his armor chest, you looked at him through your lashes. “Come on, Vengeance…please,” you whispered.

The man seemed to have an internal struggle and lost whatever battle he was waging. “…Just don’t make any moves without me, understand? This is all more dangerous than you know—“

Your hands slid from his chest to his face, bringing him down to meet you for a long kiss. He closed his eyes and subconsciously deepened it, moving his hand to grip your waist. His lips moved to follow yours as you broke it and backed away, but he caught himself. “Don’t worry, baby,” you grabbed Selina’s hand and made your way into the elevator. “We can handle ourselves.”

He stayed staring at the elevator for a very long time after you left.

The ride down the elevator was silent as you spent the ride reflecting over what happened the past few minutes. “I don’t know how, but you have that man wrapped around your finger,” Selina mused. It was an intriguing thought, but something else was bugging you…

How does he know that Falcone brought you to the mayor's funeral?

———————————————————————————————— 

Bruce Wayne was a complete wreck after watching the Riddler’s latest announcement. His father was a murderer? Why would Thomas Wayne ever go to Falcone? It didn’t make any sense; Bruce decided to go straight to the source. 

The ride to the club didn’t help soothe him, if anything it made him feel worse. He felt—and looked—absolutely pathetic. He was soaking wet from the rain. 

“Do you know who I am?” Bruce asked one of the twin bodyguards at the door.

“You’re Bruce Wayne,” he said in disbelief. 

“I wanna see Carmine Falcone.”

The door shut on his face and stayed closed for a while. Bruce had a slight shake to him; he didn’t know if it was from the cold or his unstable emotions. 

The door opened to reveal both twins. “See?” The other twin scoffed, but he seemed impressed. The pair guided Bruce to the elevator that would take him to where Falcone currently was. 

When the elevator opened up, soft jazz music could be heard while the sound of billiard balls clattering together over a game of pool. The lights were dim, giving the illusion of a relaxing ambience. He picked up on some of the conversation as he made his way into the room.

“Briscoe, do you know how much this sweater cost?”

“No, boss.”

“$1,183. You know why communism failed, right?”

“No, boss.”

“Austerity.” The men laughed but there was a quiet, feminine giggle among them. Bruce saw you sitting on the side of the pool table, dolled up next to Falcone, holding a tray of drinks and cigars. He sloppily brushed the hair in front of his face to the side, trying to hastily improve his appearance. He didn’t think you’d be here.  Everyone in the room stared at the intruder, the soothing atmosphere diminishing slightly. 

“Hey, Johnny Slick,” Oswald greeted, trying to size him up. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Give us a moment here, fellas,” Carmine ordered. You looked at Falcone and Bruce, giving them both a smile.

“Come on,” Oz ordered the men as he lent you a hand so you could slide off the table. “See ya, Champ,” Oz said. You brushed your hand against Bruce’s shoulder as you walked past; his eyes followed you intently until you left the room. 

“Have a seat,” Carmine said. “I thought I might hear from you. This, uh, Riddler sonuvabitch is really stirring things up, huh?” He hit a billiard ball. 

“Is it true?”

“What? That reporter business? What do you wanna know here, kid?”

“Did you kill him? For my father?” 

“Look, your father was in trouble. This reporter had some dirt. Some very…personal stuff about your mother—her family history. He didn’t want any of that coming out, not before the election. Your father tried to pay the guy, but he wasn’t goin’ for it. So he came to me,” he admitted. “I never seen him like that. He said, ‘Carmine, I want you to put the fear of God in this guy.’ And when fear isn’t enough…” Carmine trailed off.

Bruce had a strange look to him; he was very unnerved—disturbed—frightened? He didn’t know, but there was a certain disconnect to him.

Carmine continued, “Your father wanted me to handle it, so I did. I handled it.” Bruce couldn’t get any words out, he felt something in his throat. “I know,” Carmine said with faux sympathy. “You thought your father was a Boy Scout. But you’d be surprised what even a good man like him is capable of in the right situation. Do me a favor, don’t lose any sleep over it. This reporter was on Maroni’s payroll—he got what was comin’ to him.”

Bruce’s throat bobbed as he choked out, “Maroni?”

“Oh yeah, he could never stand that your father and I had history. And after what happened with that reporter, he was worried that your father would be in my pocket. Forever.” Carmine stopped playing pool and approached Bruce. “He would have done anything to keep him from becoming mayor. You understand?”

Bruce lip twitched. “Are you saying…Salvator Maroni got my father killed?”

“Do I know it for a fact?” Falcone shrugged. “I’m just saying, it sure looked that way to me.” He decided to egg Bruce on, truly loving how undone the man in front of him was becoming. “This is what you wanted, huh? This little conversation here? It’s been a long time coming.” Carmine rested a hand on his shoulder. Whether it was for comfort or mockery, Bruce didn’t know. “I mean, you ain’t a kid no more. Now come on.” Carmine led Bruce to the elevator. “Unless you want anything else, I suggest you go home. Try not to let this get in your head.” Bruce wordlessly followed his order. 

When the elevator opened up, all the men that were previously with Falcone were waiting by the door. The guys all had snide faces and laughed as they brushed past him, going back onto the elevator to see Carmine. You were the only one that stayed behind. He stared at you, waiting.

“I’m..sorry,” you told him. “I saw the news. I can’t imagine how you feel.” Bruce gave a slight nod, not exactly sure on how to respond. “I heard that the Riddler targeted you. Wayne tower was smoking for quite some time—you’re lucky.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Lucky.” He looked at you as if he was a lost boy. Choking out a dry laugh and brushing his hair back, he said, “God, you must think I’m such a mess.”

“Hey,” you grabbed ahold of his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “I don’t know what Carmine said, but don’t let him get inside your head. Trust me, I’d know.” Bruce squeezed your hand back. “If you need anything, and I mean it, don’t hesitate to reach out. I know we haven’t known each other long—“ Bruce’s lips burned at the thought of your searing kiss, ”—but I care about you.” He tilted his head inquisitively, curious. “You remind me of someone I know,” you admitted, your face feeling a little warm. You wrote your number on a notepad, like he did for you back at the church, and gave it to him.

“Thank you,” he said after a while. You gave him a parting smile before you passed him, walking away from the elevator and into the club.

Bruce had much to do when he got back to Wayne Tower. 

[casspurrjoybell-17]

 Hart and Hunter - Chapter 10 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

Dane Hunter

Briefly, I describe Detective Derek Erickson and my, mutual dislike and the two most recent incidents.

"Wow. What a dick," she concludes when I finish.

"And what kind of dick name is 'Derek Erickson' anyway?"

"Figure he can't help his name," I say.

"The rest is another matter."

"You know where he lives?"

"Not off-hand. Why?"

She leans on my arm as we walk.

"We should go to his house as Wolves... teach him a lesson."

I stop in my tracks, taken aback.

"Why would you even suggest that?"

"I don't mean we'd hurt him," she says quickly, frowning at me with wide eyes.

"I just meant we should scare him a little."

I shake my head and start walking again.

"That isn't how we do things, Grids."

She jogs to keep up with me.

"Shit, I was just joking," she says, beginning to sulk and sounding a little out of breath.

"Don't take everything so serious."

I hold my silence until we reach the car.

As we load our bags in the back, I clear my throat.

"Look, I know some Packs do things differently but Mom and Dad never used the Wolf to harm or frighten and neither will I and don't say stuff like that around Julian... even as a joke."

"Jeez, Dane," she huffs.

"He's not a baby. He's..."

"He was Hunted, Ingrid," I snap.

"By wolves who meant to kill him. I still see that fear in his eyes, sometimes, when he looks at me as a wolf. Even if he knows I never would, he knows what I could do,and that's enough. So don't talk about scaring people... even as a joke."

"Fine," she says, suitably chagrined.

"I'm sorry."

Sighing, I release the tension that's been building up in my shoulders since 'Pauline' realized who she was talking to.

"Don't worry about it and it's not like I'm any better... I threatened Erickson to his face when he dropped a hint he knows about you. Guess you musta made some impression on his sister."

Ingrid huffs again and settles back in her seat with her arms crossed.

"She's alright. She's just..."

"The sort who likes 'diversity' as long as it makes her look good?" I suggest and she nods.

"She offered me some of her hand-me-down clothes. I can afford my own damn clothes, thanks."

I grunt and suddenly, the hair appointment and the shopping spree make more sense.

"Well," I say, looking over at her.

"Even though I'd never do it and I don't condone even joking about such a thing, I'll admit I've fantasized about scaring the shit out of Erickson myself, once or twice."

She giggles, spirits restored.

At the same time, my cell-phone buzzes and I see Noah's name on the screen.

I answer it.

"Noah. You got something for me, bro?"

"Dane... those runes you sent me. Where did you find them again?"

"Written on the walls of a couple of stores that got burglarized. Are they Fae, like Julian thought?"

"Definitely," Noah pauses and I wait, giving him a chance to get his thoughts and words in order.

Brilliant linguist though he may be, he has an ironic tendency to stutter when he's nervous.

"Do you remember how Fae runes have multiple layers of meaning?" he asks.

"Not really."

To be honest, I never paid that much attention.

"Well, they do. Depending on the context, the same rune can indicate a sound or a syllable, a whole word or a name or an entire range of concepts. Connotation and denotation and so on."

"Uh huh."

It's easier to pretend I know what he's talking about than to invite more explanation.

"Anyway, the runes you sent me could mean a bunch of different things but I narrowed it down to a few I thought made the most sense. The second one... the one you said they found in the bike-shop... means 'justice' or 'done' and can also mean 'death' or 'fate.' It's also a Fae family name... ha' Lárán."

"Which means?"

"Son of Lárán, I'd guess," Noah says.

"So, did the thief or murderer, sign his crime? Or is it just coincidence?"

"I don't know but I'd say the meaning is intentional."

"And the first rune?"

Noah hesitates and I wait as patiently as I can, imagining him beginning to pace or fiddle with something as he does when nervous.

"That one was harder. The meaning of the runes can change depending on how they're written... right side up, upside down or paired with other runes. As best as I can tell, it means 'warning' or 'danger' and..."

"And what?"

"And it's also the rune for a stag," he pauses, as if this should mean something important to me but I draw a blank.

"A stag. So?"

"A specific kind of stag," Noah continues.

"One that's old enough to be hunted."

Something Julian once told me comes back to me and I go stiff.

"A hart?"

"The word's not the same, of course but that would be the most accurate translation."

"Shit. So, is it a warning or a threat?"

"That, I can't say but either way, it would seem to be meant for Julian."

I rub my hand over my mouth.

"Anything else?"

"No, that's all I could discern. But send me anything else you find," his voice warms with academic enthusiasm as he speaks and I can't help smiling as I imagine him pushing his glasses up his nose and taking notes.

"This is actually quite fascinating. The runes are an older form, so my interpretations are somewhat subjective, of course but..."

"Thanks, Noah. We'll be in touch," I say, cutting him before he gets too far into lecture mode and end the call.

"What did he say?" Ingrid asks, as I put the car in reverse and back out of the parking spot.

"He figures it might not be coincidence Julian found the first rune. It has the same meaning as his last name and was probably meant for him."

"What about the second one?"

"That could be a name, too, though I haven't heard it before.. 'ha' Lárán' or something."

"Halloran? Isn't that the guy Jules is with?"

I admit my car's not the quietest ride but Ingrid's wolf's ears should be able to compensate for the noise at her age.

"No, not 'Halloran.' It's..." I trail off as the sounds align and then swear.

The way Julian had stared at the guy had made no sense, almost as if he'd recognized him, somehow.

"Shit. Hold on to your lunch," I say.

"We're about to break some speed limits."

[rnebbie]

I’m Just A Kid (Request)

Deadpool x teen!reader, Wade Wilson x teen!reader

Request: could you do like a deadpool x teen reader where she has powers and is trying to be a superhero and he finds her after a fight that didn't go too well and just kind of. takes her as some sort of protege. thx in advance

Requested by: anonymous

Warnings: none I don’t think!! (Lmk if I’m incorrect)

(A/n) hey y’all heres a fic brought to u by covid… anyway this is so long idk what happened but I really just do not like it at all! But anyway as I was writing this I was thinking of y/n as a Peter Parker type character and maybe their dynamic with wade is like Peter and Tony :) also I did not proof read this massive fic so if there’s stuff I did wrong that’s why and don’t hesitate to let me know loooll also lmk if u want to be added to my tag list love u guuuyysss

You went from being just an average high schooler to someone capable of doing things you saw on the news. And you didn’t know how to control it.

It was your little secret with yourself. You didn’t let anyone else know because you didn’t know what you’d say to them, and you wouldn’t know how to prove it to them. That would be embarrassing, and a part of you still wanted to live your normal life.

But you couldn’t just live with these powers and pretend like they weren’t there. You did that during the day at school. But when you were alone and you could be yourself, you had to help people.

A part of you was already a hero before you got these powers. Always looking out for others and rooting for the underdog. This was just what you were used to doing and your recently received powers didn’t change your view on life or the value of it, they just changed your ability to help people.

So every day after you were finished with homework and you were free until dinner, you went out and helped the people of your city. Crime rates were high enough and the police in your city is corrupt. So you figured you could help out…

Usually, it was just scaring burglars away from small businesses, or helping an old woman carry her bags back to her car, or finding a lost dog with a collar and turning it in, or occasionally walking near a lone woman to make sure she got back to her car safe without anyone preying on her.

But tonight after you were finished patrolling the city, you decided to stop at your favorite sandwich shop and get something for dinner. You pull off your ski mask with eye holes cut out, your fingerless gloves, your zip-up hoodie, and boots that you bought in 7th grade with ‘I know I’ll have a use for these someday’ in mind. You shove them in your backpack and throw them in the alley next to the sandwich shop.

You walk in and greet the owner who knows you by name. “Hey, y/n.” He smiles at you. You see one man with scars all over his face in the shop at a table in the far corner typing away at something on his computer, but he looks up for a moment when you walk in. You avoid eye contact like the antisocial person you are.

“Hi, how are you doing?” You ask, reaching into your back pocket for cash, as he’s already started making your usual order that you haven’t changed since you were 11.

“Slow day. Glad to see you. How was your day?” He asks.

You sigh and shake your head. “Simple. Had a math test. I aced it.” You smile, and reach into your front pockets to check for your cash, where is it?

“Hey! Good job, y/n. I’m proud of you, kid.” He says. You smile at him in return.

Suddenly you realize your cash must’ve fallen out of your pocket while you were on patrol. Someone roughly pushed you on the ground after you broke up a fight between two people outside of a grocery store. That was probably when.

“Goddamn it.” You mutter and rub your eyes. Now that you think about it, your back hurts from the fall. And you were just really hungry but now you can’t get dinner. “I’m sorry, sir. But I must’ve lost my cash somewhere. I can't pay, so I can't eat. You can put it in your fridge and I’ll buy it next time I’m here if it’s easier for you.” You ramble. You feel terrible, especially because of how often this happens now that you patrol. And how much money you’ve lost that you could’ve used.

The shop owner sighs, “don’t worry about it, you can buy it next time you’re here. You know I’d give it to you but I’ve already given you a few free sandwiches this month and the supplies are starting to not add up to the budget. Sorry, kid.”

You nod. You’re not upset that he won’t give it to you, you’re just embarrassed.

The man in the corner suddenly appears behind you. You get a better look at the scars on his face and try not to wince, but you do step back and tremble slightly at his height and the fact that this random man just appeared out of nowhere.

“How much is it? $6? I’ll pay for it.” He says. You shake your head quickly, “oh, oh no that’s fine. I don’t need it, I'm not even hungry, it's okay.” You assure him. You’re not the type of person to let a random man pay for your food, even if he offers or you’re starving.

“No, I insist. Everyone deserves to eat.” The owner wraps the sandwich in parchment paper and the man hands cash to the owner and grabs the sandwich from his hands and hands it to you.

You blink and slowly reach to take it from his hands, “thank you, Mr,”

“Wilson. Wade Wilson. Call me Wade, don’t call me Mr. Wilson. I’m not a teacher.” He rambles. You stare up at him confused but nod when you’re sure he’s done.

“Thank you.” You say again. He nods and walks back to his table. You smile at the owner before walking out of the door to grab your backpack from the alleyway next to the shop and walk home.

You unwrap your sandwich and start to eat it while walking home. The sun has set and it’s rather dark, the only source of light is that of the light illuminating from the lamp posts.

As you go to take a bite from your sandwich, someone from behind you shoves you forward and you nearly fall flat on the pavement in front of you. But they grab your shirt from behind and yank you up. You turn around to look at them and notice him as the person who you stopped from fighting someone else outside of the grocery store earlier. He did push you, after all. You wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been following you for the rest of the day, waiting for the right moment to attack you.

He grabs you by the collar of your shirt and you feel like you’re being bullied, like the streets around you might as well be lockers in your high school hallway. “Stupid kid, I hit that person outside the store cause they hit me first. I never lose a fight. Ever. And you fucked up my tally!” He says. He goes to punch you, but your instinct is to duck, and because of that, he misses and punches the air. You come back up and hit him in the face, “there are two sides to every story.” You say, before opening your backpack to put your mask on, just in case anyone walks by, you wouldn’t want your identity to be revealed.

He tries to fight you for a minute or two, confused as to why a teenager can fight as well as you can. Your goal isn’t to fight or beat people up, it’s to help those in need. But you figure it’s needed as of now, and you defend yourself.

Unexpectedly, as you prepare for a hit to the face, the man knees you in the stomach and knocks the wind out of you. You cough and fall to the ground. “That’s fucked.” You say, Trying to catch your breath.

“You’re fucked.” The man says and kicks your side. At this point, you’re too tired. You’ve already been fighting him for like two minutes and the man knocked you on the ground earlier. You already went through school and did all your homework in your comfy bed before coming out and doing so much work. Not to mention you went to bed late last night because of homework and woke up for school at 6:00. You’re not built for this, so you consider just letting this man kick you and beat you up till he’s satisfied so you can at least lay on the ground and not have to fight back.

As you’re letting him kick you over and over again, Wade from the sandwich shop suddenly appears behind the man as he appeared behind you earlier. Except he looks ready to fight. And he does. He fucks your assaulter up.

You take a few deep breaths as Wade is punching the guy like a madman and stand up, stumbling a little at the toll this guy took on your body. But you’ll be fine.

You watch wade simply beat this guy up and figure it’s going nowhere. While watching the two of them go at it in all your exhaustion you yawn and ball your fists. Out of your hands, you cause a plasma blast to shoot towards the man’s face, nearly blinding him. He’s passed out, Though.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” you drop your hero gig, and your natural human instincts of empathy kick in. You run towards him to make sure you didn’t blind him.

You bend down to the man Wade was just beating up, but Wade stands above you. You don’t know what his expression is or what he’s thinking cause you’re too worried you just killed this man. But then you hear his voice come from above you, “Bro you just lasered that guy in the eye, how did you do that?” He asks.

“I don’t know! I didn’t know I could!” You ramble on, scared he’s gonna turn you in to the police.

“Who are you?” He asks, you look up at him.

You wait for some heroic sentence to come out of your mouth, but at the end of the day, you’re still just you. “Uhh, y/n?”

He scoffs. “You’re just a kid…” he says as you pull your ski mask off, you stand up, ignoring the man unconscious on the ground.

“I’m a teenager, actually. Please don’t tell the cops or the sandwich shop owner. I have a good bond with him.” You beg him with wide eyes.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but we better get out of here before he wakes up and remembers.” Wade says, grabbing your hand to lead you away.

“No! I’m sorry. But I have to go home…” you say as he tries to pull you away from the opposite direction of home.

“Wha- you have to go home? What is so much more important at your home than the task at hand right now?” He asks with an angry but joking tone.

You’re silent for a second, your face heats up because you’re not lying and it’s a little embarrassing as you just tried to prove that you’re not just a kid, “I have school in the morning.” You say truthfully.

Wade stares at you like you just said something utterly shocking, and he looks very amused. “Even after I bought you your dinner?” He says, slightly smiling. But you felt guilty about that and don’t find it funny.

You scoff, “I’ll pay you back every penny of the $6, asshole.” you look at your watch and realize it’s 30 minutes till your bedtime, and your mom's gonna flip out.

“Dude I have to go home. If you want to talk about it so you don’t turn me in to the police, great. I’ll give you my number.” You grab your backpack off your shoulders to tear a piece of notebook out and write your number and hand it to him. He hasn’t said anything.

“Don’t call before 8:00 or after 9:00. And don’t call in the morning either, if you want to speak to me. I don’t have a cellphone, it’s the landline. And my mom doesn’t know so if she answers just hang up. Or else I’ll get grounded.”

He bursts into laughter and you narrow your eyes, finding it kinda rude. “Bye.” You say and turn around to run back to your house. He doesn’t follow you.

-

The next day around 3:00 while your mom is still at work and you're standing in the kitchen of your apartment looking for something to eat, the phone rings. “Y/l/n residence, this is y/n speaking, how may I help you?” You say after you pick up the phone.

On the other line, you hear laughter. “You answer the phone like that?” The voice says, which you recognize as wade. You’ve honestly forgotten about last night since you once again aced a test today.

“Oh my god. What? What do you want?” You say, annoyed because it’s like he laughs at everything you do. It’s like he’s trying to prove that you’re just a dumb kid, but he’s calling you for some reason, so it doesn’t make sense to you.

“Woah, be careful what you say, I’m the only reason you’re not in juvy right now.” He answers. You roll your eyes even though you know he can’t see.

“I’m a little busy at the moment, what do you need?” You say, as you put a cup of noodles in the microwave and press the start button.

You can tell he tries not to laugh, “Yeah, sounds like it. I need your help in all of your superpower glory.” He goes on about this bad guy who he needs help defeating, even though you wonder why there’s not a better recruit to help him over a teenager.

“Me? Why me? I don’t even know what I can do. The thing you saw last night, with the lasers and stuff, that���s the first time I’ve done that and I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.” You say honestly, sitting on the counter.

“This city doesn’t have an overwhelming amount of superheroes to choose from. You deal with what you get, and I could really use your help. You know, just crack a few skulls, stop a few guys…” he trails off.

“What!? I can’t just kill people, wade!” You furrow your brows angrily out of instinct. You know he can’t see but you wish he could. You’re good at acting angry, it’s probably the hormones.

“I didn���t ask you to kill them! I’m just asking you to… you know, fuck them up like you usually do.” He quickly says, but you think it’s just out of defiance and he just wants your help whatever that may take.

“Wade, I’m not as powerful as you saw last night. I’m worried about that guy, what if I really hurt him?” You say sadly, your eyes water up and you’re glad he’s not there in person to see because that would be embarrassing. But you take the privilege of you being home alone and let yourself feel whatever emotions are necessary.

Wade sighs, probably upset that this phone call seems to have turned into a therapy session, “You know what vigilantes do?” He asks.

You scoff, “Wade, I’m not a vigilante.” You say.

“I’m not saying you're a vigilante, damn, let me finish!” He angrily says over the phone. You widen your eyes, “fine.”

He starts again, “Vigilantes do what needs to be done to bad people for the sake of good people. If you had to kill one bad person to save 100, would you?” He asks.

You shake your head and take a few seconds to answer. “I don’t kill people. That’s wrong, I’m not… I’m not a cop. I’m not a murderer, and I’m sure as hell not a vigilante. I’m just a kid.” You clarify sadly.

Wade scoffs, “A badass kid with superhero powers, but okay. I’ll let you go.” He says and you can hear him getting ready to hang up, but you can’t just leave him hanging.

“Wait, wade,” you close your eyes and hope you’re not making the wrong decision.

“I’m listening,” he says.

“I'll need your help learning how to fight.” You say.

-

For the past few weeks, you’ve been training with wade. You’ve learned how to fight better, and you’ve even beat him in half your training matches. But he assures you it’s only because he ‘let you win’.

You’ve learned more of what your powers are and what you’re capable of, but you’re still not entirely sure since you just keep finding more and more things you can do. But you’ve learned enough about yourself to navigate your powers and to win in a fight to pretty much anyone. That’s why Wade has stopped fighting you one on one, even if he tries to convince you it’s because it’s ‘too easy for him’.

He’s introduced you to more people you two would be fighting with when you fight with this big bad boss guy. You’re much more powerful than everyone else, but you’re not one to boast.

When the day of the fight comes, it’s getting closer to the fight. And as you're walking to the place you’re going to supposedly be battling, you confide in wade.

“You know, I’ve never done this before. This isn’t me. I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. Maybe I should sit this one out.” You say as the two of you are setting up booby traps.

“What? Y/n you’re the more powerful one here, except for me of course. We need you.” He says, looking over at you.

“Well, I just hope I don’t mess the entire battle up. What if I ruin it for everyone else? Not everyone is like, immortal or whatever you are.” You say, your mind drifting to all the worst possibilities you can imagine.

“You’ve been practicing. I wouldn’t ask you to help if I thought you were gonna mess it up, I wouldn’t send a kid on a suicide mission. This’ll be easy for you.” He says.

You smile and nod, choosing to believe him.

The fight is so easy, while fighting something awakens in you that’s even more powerful than what you’ve seen before. You fight with ease.

But you take a minute too long and when you go to attack the enemy, they attack you first and you go tumbling to the ground. You don’t know how long it is but Wade fights right by your unconscious body and after a little while he defeats who he was going for and he bends down to focus on you.

“Y/n! Are you okay? Can you hear me?” He asks, you open your eyes and regain consciousness.

“I’m fine, I’m okay… my ribs really hurt, wade…” you say quietly.

“I know, I know. I called an ambulance and they're on the way.” He says, helping you sit up.

“Okay. Alright,” you say, holding your ribs.

“You took a hard fall, but you did it. You beat them. I couldn’t have done it without you, y/n. You did great. Thank you.” He says, you smile slightly, feeling proud of yourself and your team, especially Wade for helping you so much.

“Yeah yeah, well I learn from the best,” You smile. “Are you okay?” You ask him.

Wade chuckles, “yeah, I can’t die, remember?”

You both laugh and soon the ambulance comes to pick you up. Minor injuries, you’re fine.

-

A few days after the fight when you’re nearly recovering you two meet in the park to go over everything that happened. Wade thanks you and you thank him and you guys plan to spend more time together so he can continue to train you.

“Thank you for helping me figure everything out. I’m glad I got to fight with you. It was exhilarating.” You say.

“I’m glad you fought with me, too. I would’ve lost if it wasn’t for you.” He says.

“Well, at least you wouldn’t have died. How are your ribs, by the way? You jokingly ask him, and he chuckles.

“My mom keeps asking where I’m going, I told her I started taking violin lessons again,” You start, but the thought makes Wade start to chuckle. “Don’t,” You say, and scowl at him.

“Don’t tell my mom. She’ll freak out if she finds out I'm some sort of superhero.” You ask him. He nods.

“I won’t. But hey, you’ve gotta teach me some violin facts if that’s the cover we’re using. You can't just let that information go to waste.” He jokes and gets up to leave the park.

You laugh lightly and also stand up to part ways. “Yeah, you train me, and in return, I’ll teach you a few songs on the violin.” You tell him.

When he starts to walk away you forget you brought something for him and call after him, “wait, wade!” You say and run after him.

He turns around, “what’s up?” He looks down at you and you reach into your pocket.

You hand him some crumpled dollar bills. “Here’s my $6 for the sandwich, by the way.”

-

Taglist: @ohworm-writes @spidyyparker (lmk if u wanna be added :)

[midearthwritings]

Be Mine

A flower, for he must know your heart belongs to him.

Words Count : 2,138

Pairing : Dwalin x Hobbit!Reader

Warning : None

Author's Note : A little Valentine's day special because I'm soft for Dwalin and hobbit reader. Sorry not sorry (at all).

And because I'm feeling extra nice, here is an article that will tell you all about Valentine's Day's origins, back to its pagan roots.

Cradled in your hands, the fragile flower was lying comfortably, waiting for you to finally make your move. Its red petals were big and bright, free of any damage the weather or wild animals could have caused. They were staring back at you, reassuringly. You could almost hear them whisper soothing words. Carefully, you brought it to your face and inhaled the lovely smell, black pistils tickling your nose. It wasn't as beautiful as the ones you grew, back home. And if you had been in the Shire, you would have gathered a big bouquet. But you were not in the Shire, you were on the road, probably walking to your ultimate death. And there wasn't any garden, only wilderness. So this single wild tulip would have to do.

Before, this day had meant nothing. It had been an excuse for those who where merely interested in you to gift you with bouquets. And each time, they had been met with rejection. Until now, the only love you had ever felt had been for your friends and your garden. Back in the comfort of your Hobbit hole, only the Sun rising each morning had been able to make your heartbeat quicken.

Now, it was different. The feelings had taken you by surprise, and for long you had refused to acknowledge them. But when you were traveling with the one your heart so desired, and had to see him at every moment given, it was hard to stay in denial.

The flower was still there, reminder that you were to gift it to him.

But how?

You turned around, looking at him from your spot. Even doing something as simple as packing his belongings, he looked so very intimidating. Centuries separated the two of you. He had seen war, disasters. He knew of sorrow and death. As for you, well, a piece of pottery you really liked fell to the floor, once, it had made you sad. Compared to him, you were just a simple Hobbit from the Shire that everybody would forget about after they passed.

You sighed and your eyes dropped back on the tulip. Gently, you brushed the pad of your thumb against a petal. It was soft under your touch. Like an infant's skin.

"What is it that ye have there?"

Startled, you jumped—quite harshly—, sending the flower to the ground. With an annoyed squeal, you picked it up and blew on it a little to get rid of any dust or dirt that had found its place on the poor vegetal. You stood up, facing the dwarf.

From afar, he had been intimidating, but here, right in front of you it was worse. His tall frame, taller than the others, swallowed you up whole. His insistent gaze was piercing right through your soul and you felt your blood rushing to your face.

Perhaps, now was your only chance. The company would have to depart soon and you wouldn't stop until night. The pounding in your chest was echoing in your entire body.

With one last glance at the delicate little thing, you held your hands out to him.

"It is, ah, it is a flower." You stuttered, looking anywhere but at him. " It is a flower for, for you."

Maybe you had spoken louder than you intended to, because you were surrounded with silence. To make it even worse, you knew all eyes were on you, as if you were some sort of strange creature no one had ever seen before. Actually, you were, given the fact that most of them had never met a Hobbit before. But that was not the point now, was it?

Brush of rough fingers against yours made you look back up and you watched, embarrassed, as the soldier took the flower away from your grip. His eyes were glued to the tiny looking plant in his hand, and his eyebrow rose up slowly.

"A flower?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours again. "For me?"

Another shy squeal escaped your lips, and you nodded rapidly.

"What d'ye want me to do with it?"

The words were like a punch right in the stomach. It had taken you time to pick the prettiest out of the lot. You had chosen it with care and love. Did he not like it? If the feelings were not returned, why would he take it? To publicly humiliate you, or something like that?

Defeated, your shrugged your shoulders and brought your hand to your lips. A bad habit of yours when you were feeling down, and today was no exception. You began to chew on your thumb before having your hand batted away.

"Don't do that. Ye'll make yerself bleed."

You muttered a quiet apology. Dwalin shook his head and placed the flower in one of his pockets, on his chest. He patted the place and you frowned. Now this was unusual. In the Shire, if one didn't return another's feeling, they wouldn't take the gift. They would politely reject the offer and move on. And hadn't the dwarf just rejected you?

"Pack yer things, Halfling, we're leavin soon."

And with that, he walked away, leaving you alone and confused.

That day, the weather was on the company's good side. The Sun was clement, so was the wind. You were walking in the front, alongside of Thorin's nephews, unaware that you were being watched. You hadn't been the only one left tormented with the events of the morning. All the way in the back of the line, Dwalin was lost in his thoughts, the flower still secured in his pocket. His mind was filled with questions, such as why you would gift him with a thing as useless as this one. At the broken look on your face when he had asked, he hadn't been able to find the strength to refuse. And so, the soldier was now traveling with a flower stuck in his clothing.

Carefully, he approached the only one who he thought would be able to help him out.

"Burglar."

The same way you had this morning, Bilbo jumped, startled by Dwalin's deep voice. His hand found its way up to his chest, resting in the place of his heart.

"Master Dwalin, you have to stop creeping behind people like that. One of this days, someone's heart will stop beating."

Sensitive Hobbits. So easily scared. The dwarf was still wondering why the wizard had brought the both of you along. A poor excuse of a burglar and you. But he was in no place to question the decision. And so, he got along with it.

Carefully, to avoid damaging it, he grabbed the flower and showed it to the Hobbit. The latter frowned and held his hands up.

"Ah..." He began, his cheeks reddening. "I am very flattered but, ah well, how to say that? The feeling is not returned."

The burglar's nonsense made Dwalin shake his head. It was terrifying the quantity of absurdities Hobbits mouths could produce.

"What are ye sayin burglar? Yer little friend up there..." He explained, pointing at you. "Yer little friend up there gave me this. Why?"

Bilbo's eyes followed the direction of the Dwarf's fingers and his eyes met yours. He watched as you quickly looked away. A smile grew on his lips, illuminating his face. Now, this was very interesting. A merry event, indeed. A strange choice, he thought. But well, it was not his place to say anything. In all those years of friendship, he had had to watch you refuse gift after gift, bouquets after bouquets. Love wasn't made for you, you only loved your friends. Or so you had said. He snickered, rather loudly.

His face radiating with a joy that made the dwarf uncomfortable, he explained :

"Well, Master Dwalin, it is a tulip. Oh, those we grow in the Shire are so much prettier. But I find this one to be very beautiful, very well chosen. I must say a bouquet of this specie would look very lovely and I would-"

"Will ye tell me why or not?"

Bilbo nodded at the soldier's interruption of his rambling.

"Once a year, Hobbits give flowers to those dear to them. It is a day to honour the ones we have wed, or confess our feelings. And tulips, Master Dwalin, in the language of flowers, mean the first confession of love."

Intriguing creatures. But not an unexpected gesture, coming from them. Dwalin looked down at the small plant. It didn't look the same. It was softer, like you. Its scent reached the Dwarf's nose. He hadn't been there for long but he could remember the essence that had floated in your home. And it smelled like it, like your home. It reminded him of you in every way, no matter which angle he looked at it. Now, he could see.

"I need yer help some more, burglar."

The night wasn't particularly scary to you. It was something peaceful, even. And night was often the time of grand parties amongst Hobbits. Yet, far from everything you knew, it wasn't comforting either. Silently, you sat on your bedroll, far from the fire.

You sighed. Sometimes, you felt very lonely. You missed your friends dearly. Oh yes, you were happy that Bilbo was there with you. It made things a bit easier to go through. But it was not the same.

The tulip was still haunting your thoughts. Bright, beautiful and proud, living its best life in your beloved's garment. It had been mocking you all day long, the vivid color reminding you of the answer you were not given. Or rather the upsetting one he had served you. Childishly, you kicked at the ground and crossed your arms on your chest. It was unfair.

You froze, when a big hand was laid on top of your head.

"Ye seem mad, Halfling."

At the familiar voice, you relaxed. Although there was still tension in your shoulders. It seemed Fate wasn't done with you and wanted to torture you a little more.

You shook your head, chasing the hand away.

"That, I am not. Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed."

His laughter, loud and deep, pulled a little smile out of you. You stayed still as he sat down to your side.

"This is very well said. Yer startin to think like a real warrior."

At his compliment, your heart swell, and your body threatened to burst out with pride. In the corner of your eye, you could see the red glint of the petals, and the feeling died down. You wanted to rip it out of here, throw it on the ground and step on it the same way it had stepped on your love. But at the same time, you wished it would live timelessly for the dwarf to keep and cherish.

You sighed, for the hundredth time, when a folded piece of fabric came into your sight, making you flinch a little. Curious, you inspected it. It was simple, and you were certain it had been ripped from a clothing. The bumps told you there was something inside.

You looked up at your friend.

"What is it?"

"Take it. For ye." He replied, pushing it closer to you.

Hesitantly, you obeyed. With a swift of his hand, he ordered you to take a look inside.

Slowly, you unfolded it, revealing what it contained. The small branche decorated with dozens of tiny purple flowers caught your eyes first. It was radiant, and you couldn't believe he had managed to find some in the little time that had been given to him. You smiled, bringing it up to your face to inhale the sweet perfume.

Putting it back down, you noticed there was something else. A tiny piece of steel with a hole in it. It was engraved, the patterns really clear and neatly made.

"Yer burglar friend said Hobbits court each others with flowers." He explained, pointing at the plant. "Us, dwarves, we court with clasps we braid into our partner's hair."

Your head shot up. There was no hint of mockery on his face. You had offered him your heart, and he was now offering you his.

"Master Dwalin I-"

"Now, will ye deny me?"

You shook your head. That, you would not do. For sure. If it was no jokes, and it didn't look like one, you would not be as foolish as to deny a thing you had hoped for.

Delicately, you picked the small piece of hair ornament and handed it to your soldier, a soft smile tugging at your lips.

"Will you braid my hair, then?"

And so he did, working his strong fingers through your mane gently, while you cradled his other gift close to your heart.

Lilac, for the first feeling of love.

[football-rambles]

History - Jack Grealish

Based on One Direction - History. For the One Direction Series, which can be found here.

Disclaimer: This is all fictional purposes. Italics are flashbacks! Also swearing.

You couldn’t understand it. You understood that Jack was moving to a different club and a different city, but you weren’t expecting him to break up with you. Sure, it would have been trying times in your relationship while you ironed things each end but breaking up wasn’t part of the plan in your hand.                              

Sure, it had been a difficult few month, transfer rumours for Jack started before even the euros started and then when he was away for the euros that was hard, not seeing him for weeks only a distance. But you thought you both were going strong. How you were so wrong.

“We can’t do this anymore; I can’t do this anymore.” Jack spoke as he started to pack his suitcase ready to move up to the flat both of you chose once he signed his contract.

“What do you mean?” You asked, unsure where this was heading as you were helping him pack another suitcase.

“Us…I can’t do this anymore.” Jack spoke without making eye contact at you.

You didn’t know where this came from, your mind then started to go back to all the once what you thought was daft rumours could they be true.

“Is there someone else?” You snapped, trying not to let the tears that was currently threatening to fall. “I thought we was doing okay.” Your voice breaks.

“No. I promise you there’s no one else, I just think…it’s not going to work. I’m going to be mostly up in Manchester, you’ll be here. I just think we should end it before we get over our heads” He continued.

You laughed, at his comment and shaking your head. You had been together since school and now he wants to call it quits. Shaking your head, throwing the clothes you had folded neatly. “Do you know what. Fuck you, Jack!” You stormed out of the bedroom, to the bathroom down the hall where the tears fell quicker than you could catch.

Jack did try and speak to you through the door, but you replied some blue words telling him to enjoy his new life in Manchester and hope it was worth it. He gave up.

Weeks had passed, you we’re supposed to be moving up with Jack as a surprise. But you had quit your job for nothing and there was nothing you could do to reverse the life you were planning to leave behind.

You met up with his mother one day, she wanted to speak with you to try and find out what was going on. You didn’t want to bad mouth her son to her but you couldn’t help it.

“Y/N, sweetheart. How are you doing?” Karen spoke as she pulled you in for a hug.

“You know getting there.” You give a small smile as you sit down.

“Jack didn’t tell me much, but he was concerned on how he left things.” She spoke, which made you chuckle and shake your head.

“What happened?” She asked sympathetic.

“I don’t know…I thought we was going well. I was looking forward to going to Manchester to join him, but it was just out of nowhere he broke up with me.” You spoke.

“I gave up a lot for him already and about to give up my life to support him and this what happens.” You carried on your rant.

Karen listened and gave a small sigh. “Well…He didn’t tell me the exact reason. But let me tell you he is miserable.” She says softly.

“Good. He broke my heart after nine years I’m not exactly dancing around the room.” You spoke and sighed “I’m sorry Karen it’s not fair for you to listen to this.” You say, feeling sorry that you were ranting about her son.

“Don’t apologise, you’re much as part of our family despite what is happening with the two of you. And trust me. Give it a few weeks once he settles, he will realise what he’s done.” She gives a small smile as she held your hand soothingly.

You had dealt with a lot of things during the relationship, when he ended up being banned by driving, all the rumours that sometimes led to fights that would go on for hours, even days at times but you eventually worked out everything and carried on normal. How he could just give up on us you would never understand.

Weeks later, you were flicking through the channels as you ended up on the sports channel. The game was on, you missed going to the actual matches, something that baffled Jack that you enjoyed football regardless of who was playing you loved the sport. It was one of the best traits he loved.

You saw Jack coming off the bench, the first time you saw him since he left the house. You avoided everything with his name on social media. You took a step back after Instagram fans got whiff that the two of you were no longer. You sighed as you decided to change the channel and eventually turned off the tv.

You decided to get an early night, wanting to snuggle down reading a book that you found kept your mind off your thoughts. It didn’t work because you were still reading at 01:00am in the morning, you flicked the page when you heard your front door open and closed.

You didn’t know what it was, and you were sure you locked everything before you went up to bed. As you got out of the bed and put your main light on, picking up an ornament carrying it out to the hall.

“Hello?” You called out. Nothing

“Who’s there?” You asked as you moved, slowly heading down the stairs, you were now scared of who it was, as you got down to the bottom of the stairs to see that Jack was standing there.

“It’s only me” He said holding his hands up.

“What the hell!” You yelled as you placed the ornament down, knowing it wasn’t a burglar. “What are you doing here?” You spat out.

“I needed to speak to you.” Jack spoke, something about him was different, like he wasn’t happy.

“At 1am in the morning! Couldn’t it wait till a reasonable hour? Or maybe a phone call would have been better?” You snap.

“You wouldn’t have answered.” Jack spoke back.

“So, you thought you frighten a girl to death by breaking into the house.” You say shaking your head, as Jack held up a key.

“What do you want Jack?” You sigh.

“To tell you I’m the biggest idiot on the planet right now, and to say I’m sorry.” He starts as you nodded in agreement with his statement.

“I realised, that all this with the transfer and everything doesn’t mean anything.” He paused “It does but all of this isn’t worth it without you. Life has been miserable without you. I didn’t realise how much you were there, after the matches, waiting for me at home. We have so much history that I realised I don’t want to throw it away” Jack continued.

You looked at him, as you crossed your arms over your chest. “Keep going.” You speak, liking what he was saying.

“What I’m saying without you here, life is just a lie. We can make it; I know we can.” He spoke.

You stared at him and let out a small sigh “You can’t just expect things to be the same. I was ready to move my whole life for you Jack.” You speak.

“I know, and I promise we’ll make it work. You can come from work at the weekends and whenever you can. I could come back on when we have a little time.” Jack started to reel a list of scenarios.

“I quit my job” You speak, as Jack looked at you confused too why. “I quit my job because I was going to move up to Manchester.” You speak. “So, I guess, I am free to come up anytime.” You shrug.

“You can get a job up there, honestly you’ll be great in Manchester.” Jack nodded.

“Maybe, but right now I just need to sleep on it. I give you a call tomorrow” You say, feeling rather tired than you did. “Did you want to take the spare room for tonight?” You asked, not ready to let him come to bed with you just yet until you were fully sure what you wanted to do.

“I can’t I’ve got to get back. I have training in the middle and Pep will kill me.” Jack spoke. “Did you want your key back?” He asked, holding it up. as you shake your head.

“Keep it.” You give a small smile. “Goodnight Jack.” You say softly, as you walked up the stairs heading towards the bed that you, as you climbed into bed, thinking about all this history you had with Jack that maybe it wasn’t time to give up with him just yet.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Whatever A Spider Can

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Toms confidence is shaken when Harrison kills a spider for you

Masterlist

“AHHH!”

Your scream rang through the house as you hopped up on the kitchen table.

“What’s wrong?” Tom ran into the room with his fists up in a karate stance.

“Spider!” You pointed frantically to the spider that was crawling across the kitchen tiles. There were various spatulas and whisks on the floor that you had thrown at the spider in an attempt to kill it. When that didn’t work, up on the table you went.

“tHeRe’s A sPiDer?” Tom squeaked and backed up against the wall.

“Yes! Kill it!” You held your fists up to your face and shook nervously.

“What do you want me to do? Sacrifice myself?” He asked in exasperation.

“Well I’m not killing it!” You shouted back.

“Neither am I!” He exclaimed, flinching when it moved again.

“You’re Spider-Man. It’s your job.” You whined at him.

“That’s exactly why I can’t kill it. That’s treason!” He stamped his foot to stand his ground.

“It’s just a spider!” You protested. “He won’t be mad.”

“HE’S MY BLOOD.” Tom bellowed with a stamp of his foot.

“Ah! It moved its FUCKING MOVING KILL IT NOW!” Your screaming escalated as the spider moved towards you.

“I’m not going near it.” Tom scooted behind the table and flung his body over the couch. He peered at you over the top of the couch to see if you were okay.

“It’s gonna get me. Oh my God, it’s licking its lips.” You gulped and backed up even further on the table before shooting and angry look at Tom. “You’re just gonna leave me? To die?”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He said apologetically. “I’ll always remember you.”

You were about to scold him some more when Harrison walked into the kitchen.

“Harrison, thank God.” You breathed in relief. “I need you.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He smirked and leaned on the table to give you his attention.

“Can you kill that spider?” You pointed to it and bounced up and down on your toes.

“This one?” He asked and easily stepped on the spider. “All done.”

You broke into a smile as relief washed over you.

“You just saved my life.” You said graciously as you held your clasped hands over your heart. You walked to the end of the table where he was and made grabby hands at him.

“I got you, girly.” Harrison laughed and scooped you up bridal style and carried you off the table. Tom watched as he carefully set you down on the ground, clenching the blanket tightly when you threw your arms around him. Everything about the scene was bothering him. From the way Harrison’s arms held your body close to his to the way you wrapped your arms around his neck, something didn’t sit right with him.

“Thanks for saving me.” You smiled in appreciation and squeezed his arm. Tom perked up from the couch and stared at you two interacting.

And he didn’t like it.

~

“Are you ready for bed?” You leaned against the doorframe of the home gym and yawned.

“Almost.” Tom grunted as he pumped his weights. “Just 100 more reps.”

“100?” You scrunched your face in confusion. “What are you training for? Sozin’s comet?”

“I can’t laugh at your pop culture references right now, baby.” He shook his head as he pumped harder. “Daddy’s gotta train.”

“Daddy better never refer to himself as daddy again.” You said sternly. You watched his face closely for any sign of something bothering him. It wasn’t like him to train so late at night, and definitely not this heavily.

“Feel the burn. Then feel it some more.” He grunted as he pumped the weights. “Baby, do you think you can crack some eggs into a glass so I can drink it?”

“Calm down, Rocky.” You laughed nervously as you watched the sweat roll down his forehead. “What’s going on with you?”

“I’m just working out so I can be big and strong. You need a big strong man to protect you.” He said matter of factly and you squinted your eyes.

“No, I can’t say I do.” You gave him a tight smile. He stopped pumping for a moment to look at you.

“Sorry, not like that. I know you can protect yourself.” He said sincerely. “I mean from things like burglars and pirates and spiders.”

“Well I do deal with those on a daily basis.” You said sarcastically. “And you’re already big and strong.”

“But I need to be bigger and stronger.” He punctuated his words by aggressively pumping the weight.

“Why?” You questioned.

“To protect you.” He said like it was obvious. You were growing frustrated and just wanted to go to sleep.

“From what?” You whined. “Really, Tom, what’s going on?”

He got off the bench and got on the mat to do push-ups.

“I can protect you from anything.” He said as he added in claps.

“I know you can, baby.” You assured him. “Who says you can’t?”

“The spider in the kitchen today.” He put one arm behind his back to push himself even more.

“He said that?” You played along.

“Yes. And then he called me a little bitch boy.” Tom said sheepishly.

“Ah, I see.” It finally clicked. “Is this because Harrison killed the spider?”

Tom rolled on his back and started to do crunches.

“I just want you to know that you can count on me to protect you from things that scare you. I didn’t do that today. Harrison did.” He said one word every time he crunched up.

“Just because Harrison killed the spider doenst mean you’re any less of a man.” You told him with a kinder tone now that you knew his feelings were hurt.

“But you needed me and I didn’t help you.” He said as his crunches got more aggressive.

“It was just a spider, Tom. It wasn’t actually going to kill me.” You pointed out.

“It could have.” He insisted. “I think it had a knife.”

“Well I’m safe now.” You held your arms out so he could see that you were perfectly fine. “Isn’t that enough?”

“It’s my job to keep you safe.” He stated. “Not Harrison’s.”

“How about this?” You knelt down beside him and put a hand on his back to stop his movements. “Next time there’s a knife wielding spider in the house, you can have dibs on killing it.”

“You mean it?” He smiled softly.

“I do.” You cupped his chin and kissed him. “Can we please go to bed now?”

“Okay. And let that be a warning to any spiders listening.” He said loudly as he looked at the corners of the room.

“Ooo. I think you really scared them.” You teased him before leading him to bed.

~

Three days later, Toms chance at redemption presented itself.

“Ah! Spider!” You shrieked when you saw a spinous black spider crawled across the living room wall.

“I GOT IT!” Tom ran into the room as quickly as he could.

“Tom! You can’t kill it with a pair of scissors!” You tried to hold him back when you saw the weapon in his hand.

“Not with that attitude.” He said as he tried to throw the scissors at the wall. You held him back and loudly bickered as you tried to stop him.

“What is all the noise -ARE THOSE MY CRAFTING SCISSORS?” Tuwaine yelled as he entered the room to see what all the noise was about. He immediately went to Tom and tried to wrestle the scissors out of his hands.

“I have to kill the spider! I have to avenge my lady!” Tom protested as he held on tightly to the scissors.

“White boy, you better chill.” Tuwaine warned, grasping onto the scissors and pulling ad hard as he could. You backed away, knowing there was no way this could end well.

“As soon as this quarantine ends, I am leaving you all and never coming back.” You mumbled as Harry walked into the room. He stood next to you and folded his arms as he watched the scene in front of him.

“What’s all this?” He asked you.

“Toms trying to kill a spider with Tuwaine’s scissors.” You said simply.

“His crafting scissors?” Hardy gasped at Tom’s audacity. “He’s completely lost it.”

“I tried to tell him.” You shrugged as the boys continued to fight. Harrison heard the commotion from upstairs and went to see what was wrong.

“What’s with all the yel-“

“GET OUT.” Tom bellowed as he pointed the scissors at Harrison like a sword. Harrison held up his hands to surrender and backed out of the room.

“What do we do? Do we just let them kill each other?” Harry whispered to you.

“I think I know how it solve this.” You nodded at Harry and walked over to the bickering boys. You squeezed in between them and slammed your hand on the spider, watching it anticlimactically fall to the floor. Tom and Tuwaine fell silent as they watched the spider corpse fall.

“You just killed the spider.” Tom said as he stared blankly at the spider on the ground.

“I know.”

“With your bare hand.” Tuwaine laughed.

“I know.”

“Why?” Tom looked around you in betrayal. “And how?”

“Because I don’t need anyone to protect me.” You stated. “Also because Tuwaine was two seconds away from stabbing Tom with his crafting scissors.”

“And you would’ve been lucky if I had.” Tuwaine dramatically snatched the scissors for Tom, snipped them twice, and left the room.

“You said I had dibs.” Tom whined and flopped down on the couch.

“That was before this became a crazy pride thing. Killing a spider does not determine your manliness.” You reminded him as you took a seat next to him. He stared at the floor as you gently rubbed comforting circles on his back.

“You two are such a weird couple.” Harry mumbled.

“But I needed the spider to redeem myself.” He told you.

“No you don’t!” You protested as you took his face between your hands. “If you’re not a man before you kill the spider then you won’t be a man after.”

“But I want to be the kind of man that can kill spiders for you.” He pouted.

“The only type of man you need to be is my man.” You smiled sweetly at him and stroked his face.

“No one else finds this conversation ridiculous?” Harry looked back at Tuwaine, who was cleaning his scissors in the kitchen.

“I’m sorry, baby. It just shook my confidence.” Tom sighed and looked down. “Every time the anniversary of the lip sync battle comes around, I get a whole slew of hate comments questioning my masculinity. I usually ignore it, but after Harrison killed the spider when I couldn’t, I felt like they were right.” He admitted and you install felt bad for teasing him.

“Being able to put on fishnets and dance your ass off to make the most iconic lip sync battle of all time is the most masculine thing you can do.” You assured him. “Think of all the little boys who love to dance who can do it proudly now because they saw Spider-Man doing it.”

Tom perked up and smiled at you.

“I didn’t think of that.” He realized.

“That’s because I have to do the thinking for the both of us, baby.” You patted his cheek and hoped he didn’t realize that was an insult.

“What a plot twist.” Harrison commented as he cake beside Harry. “I didn’t expect there to be a deeper meaning.”

“I just thought he was a pussy.” Harry shrugged and mumbled under his breath.

“Right? Who can’t kill a spider?” Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Not me. I’d kill it in a second.” Harry stated with a confident nod.

“Thanks for getting my confidence back.” Tom thanked you. “I love you.”

“I love you more.” You pulled him into a hug and rested your head on his shoulder.

“What did we just watch?” Harrison shook his head.

“Couldn’t tell you.” Harry sighed. Tuwaine joined the boys in watching you and Tom until he noticed something moving on the wall.

“Hold on mates, there’s a spider right above you.”

“WHAT THE FU-“ Harry and Harrison completely spazzed out and ran in opposite directions as Tuwaine stood there laughing.

“And that’s for messing with my scissors.”

Tag List 🏷

@maybemona @foreverxholland​ @damnyoudameron @lavender-writer @captainmandeestudent17 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101 @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human @celestial-skylines @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​ @spideygirl2003​ @the-crazy-fanfictionist @maryjanee23​ @spacebitch2 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @jillanaholland​ @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766 @flixndchill @sovereignparker​ @wendaiii​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @hes-amarillo @quaksonhehe @kelieah​ @silteplaittais-toi​ @kickingn-ames​ @purefluff @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174 @lou-la-lou @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @ohnothezombies​ @spideyanakin @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @gninwodacrie​ @quacksonfics​ @marshxx

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Fic: Pepsi Raspberry

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you

Warnings: There's a fight and Reader's ex left her with some issues, but nothing super traumatic. Frankie is super cute (and a little needy). I just threw this together on a slow day at work, apologies in advance for errors.

Summary: You fight with Frankie. That's it that's the plot.

A/N: This was honestly supposed to be a piece about feminism and female independence in a relationship but I can't be trusted around Frankie, he totally bippity-boppity-booped me into forgivance. Dickhead. Also I struggled for two and a half hours with the title and that's why it's shit. I hate titles.

Words: 2,416

A loud noise wakes you up, your heart missing a beat. For a moment, you're completely still in bed, scared out of your mind. That was definitely the sound of the front door opening and closing, and someone crashing into a chair. You're as stiff as a board, your first thought being that this is it, this is how you'll die, by the hand of a home invader who's probably going to assault you first and then kill you, or maybe kidnap you and do god knows what to you…

You hear cursing and as you recognize the voice you also realize that if someone wanted to break in, they'd probably at least try to be stealthy about it.

"Frankie?" You mean for it to be a call but it's just a breathless whimper. You wet your lips, finding your mouth too dry.

Heavy, staggering footsteps bring the unknown visitor to the bedroom door and you reach out to turn on your bedside lamp. Blinking blearily towards the soft light is indeed Frankie, a sheepish smile on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" Your fright-induced stiffness leaving your body, you sit up in bed and glare at your boyfriend who was supposed to sleep at his own place tonight after his night out with the boys. His eyes are unfocused and his face shiny, and it's clearly been a good night. You glance at the nightstand, where the red light diodes of the clock tell you that the time is barely three am.

“Sorry, baby. Did I wake ya? There was… there was a chair in the entry. Did you move a chair? There never was a chair there before. Stubbed my toe.”

He limps over to the bed, trying to look as sober as possible while unbuttoning his shirt – “trying” being the operative word, as he’s clearly lost control of his fine motoric skills. He ends up pulling the flannel over his head, but it gets stuck, and he topples over his side of the bed. You draw back a little, wrinkling your nose. He smells of stale beer and cigarettes and moreover: he was supposed to go home. You had both agreed that you'd spend Saturday night apart for once, him catching up with his friends, you with yours, and he'd go home where he could spend Sunday nursing his hangover while you got some cleaning done in your apartment.

“What you are doing here?” you demand again, anger replacing fear. “Can I send you to the shower or will you drown?”

“I’m not a good swimmer,” Frankie acknowledges ruefully as he clumsily rolls over in bed and attempts the next step of getting undressed: undoing his fly and getting his tight jeans off. “Here, baby, gimme a hand, you’re so good at this…” “You deal with it yourself,” you say sternly, in no mood to help. The whole idea of spending one night apart was to get a good night’s sleep – something you rarely get in the same bed as Frankie as both of you are usually too voracious for each other to think about sleep – and for you not to have to worry about a hung-over boyfriend the following morning. On top of that, you’re furious with him for scaring the shit out of you by stumbling in at three in the morning. You almost regret giving him a key but then again: if he didn’t have one it could have been even worse, he could have gone full on Stanley Kowalski outside your window.

“Ah, baby, c’mon… Don’t be like that. Help an old man out.”

Frankie tilts his head up and looks at you with imploring eyes, upside down from you. Half of him is hanging outside the bed and the rest is slipping off, and he looks like he might fall asleep any second. You might as well help him before he goes limp and ends up on the floor.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter and crawl over to his side of the bed before climbing out. As you bend over to pick up his legs and lift them onto the mattress, Frankie manages to slap your ass.

“Baby. Hey, baby. Let’s have sex.”

“Not gonna happen.”

You unzip his jeans and yank them down carelessly, pulling Frankie down the bed in the process.

“Whoa, wild thing,” he murmurs thickly, his eyes falling shut. “Careful of the joystick, you don’ wanna damage that or you won’ be able to fly anymore…”

You don’t bother with an answer, he’s not going to remember it anyway. You help him off with the t-shirt as well and when you’re about to tuck him in, he grabs you by your wrist with a move much quicker than you had thought him capable of in his state. He pulls you down over him, the other hand squeezing your ass.

“Sex,” he mumbles. “Love you, baby, and I wanna be in you fo’eva.”

You try to avoid the smelly, wet kisses that he keeps pressing to your neck and shoulder. While you can appreciate him being horny for you in any situation, you’re still mad about him being here at all.

“You need sleep and I want it,” you tell him as you squirm out of his hold. Returning to your side of bed, you ignore the puppy eyes look he gives you as you turn off the lights.

“Not sleepy,” Frankie protests weakly before he’s out cold. He starts to snore loudly and you sigh in exasperation.

You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.

You barely sleep for the remainder of the night and when you finally give up and get out of bed, you're in a pissy mood. Not even two cups of coffee and the fancy bread rolls you bought at the bakery yesterday to treat yourself this Sunday morning make you feel better. You down a painkiller to combat the beginnings of the headache you feel creeping up on you before starting on your chore list. The clearing of the closets in the hall is the first task and you get to it, trying to find some satisfaction in the fact that you're getting your things in order.

As the hours pass by, you do your best to work around the tasks on your list that would generate noise, such as vacuuming. You may be pissed at Frankie but you're decent enough to let him sleep for a little while longer. However, you finally face the fact that if you're to get everything done in time for you to actually enjoy the rest of your day off and open that novel you've been dying to read, you're going to have to start the vacuum cleaer. If Frankie wanted to sleep until three pm he should have gone home.

When you turn off the vacuum cleaner, you hear Frankie groan in the bedroom.

“Babe?”

You're not really in the mood to talk to him but you go check on him, just in case he needs help to get to the bathroom. Nursing his hangover is the last thing you want to do today but you also don't want to clean up vomit.

He looks like a wreck with his hair standing out in every direction where it's not plastered to his skull, puffy eyes, and pale face.

“Morning.” Your tone is short but he doesn't seem to notice. He grunts and rubs his forehead with one hand, the other reaching out of bed towards you.

“C'mere. I wanna cuddle.”

“You smell,” you shake your head. “Get up already, I want to change the sheets.”

He groans again and retracts his arm, draping it over his forehead.

“One more minute. Or hour. It's so early and my head is killing me.”

“Not my problem, Frankie.”

Frowning, he looks at you, clearly bothered by the sunlight washing the room in light. You don't offer any explanations.

“Is there coffee?” he asks eventually.

“No.”

“Can you make some?”

“Make it yourself.”

He blinks at you, surprised.

“What's wrong, baby?”

You go to the other side of the bed, grab the pillow and start to take off the pillowcase.

“Just get out of bed. I have shit to do.”

Frankie sits up slowly, his head clearly bothering him when he moves from a horizontal recline to a vertical seat. He takes a moment, eyes closed and hand on his bare, soft stomach, before looking up at you.

“What's up with you?”

There's a hint of accusation in his voice and that does it for you. You slam down the pillow onto the bed and cross your arms in front of your chest as you glare at him.

“You scared the shit out of me last night, Frankie! I thought I was being burglared!”

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he mumbles, his apology meaning nothing to you because you can clearly see that he doesn't understand the terror you felt last night.

“We agreed that we'd spend the night apart, what the hell did you come here for and ruin my sleep and my morning?” you demand, raising your voice a little despite yourself. Frankie hates yelling. “Did you think I'd take care of you, tip-toe around you all day, serve you coffee in bed and junk food on the couch while you get to feel sorry for drinking too much?”

“What, no, what are you – “ Frankie seems utterly confused, the state of him most likely partly to blame. “Can you please keep your voice down?”

You pull at the duvet, stuck partly underneath him. “Move.”

“Jesus...” he mutters as he slowly gets out of bed. He stands still for a moment as if to recalibrate as he adjusts his boxers, before sluggishly dragging himself to the bathroom. You strip the bed and as soon as Frankie's out of the bathroom and heading into the kitchen, you take the sheets to the washing-machine and start it. And just because you're feeling like a bitch, you throw Frankie's clothes out of the bedroom, letting them land on the floor, before vacuuming.

When you're stowing away the vacuum cleaner into the cleaning closet, Frankie confronts you. He's now dressed but that doesn't help his half-dead appearance.

“Why are you being like this?” He's still struggling to understand you. It's typical Frankie: he always tries to talk about things, bring clarity into every issue.

“Like what? What am I like?"” You're being a brat, you know, but you have no desire to be an adult right now. Frankie really doesn't seem to understand: the frown seems permanently etched into his face and he looks so different from his usual soft, easy-going self.

“Mean. You're being mean!” The last word comes out harshly and you can tell Frankie's losing his customary cool.

“So when I have plans to spend a day apart from you and be my own person, I'm being mean?” you spit. He looks at you like you're suddenly speaking in a foreign language.

“What are you even talking��about?” The exasperation is plain to see, and it somehow makes you even angrier.

“This isn't your mama's bed and breakfast that you can just check into whenever you feel like it, Frankie!”

“Fuck,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can't deal with this right now.” He pulls out his phone. “I'm getting an Uber.”

“Good!” you quip. “Fuck off home, like you should've done at three in the fucking morning!”

Without waiting for a reply, you stomp into the bedroom and slam the door. A few seconds later, you hear the front door slam as well.

[+++]

Sorry I showed up unannounced in the middle of the night. I just missed you. Didn’t want to go home and sleep without you. Call me, okay? I Love you.

You stare at the text message and feel bad, no, not bad: really fucking awful. It took you a few hours to calm down; hours that you spent playing angry music while finishing your list of chores. Afterwards, you didn’t feel that satisfying sense of accomplishment you usually experience after a good cleaning. Your head still hurt, so you went to your newly made bed which smelled fresh and nice even with the spread on top. You slept until late afternoon and woke up by the beep signaling the text.

You’re conflicted. The fact that he missed you is so sweet but there’s something about the statement that annoys you. He’s a grown-ass man, for chrissakes, and he should be able to be without his girlfriend for one single fucking night. And then guilting you into calling him with I-love-you’s and his fragile feelings? Fuck that noise.

And still. You know what Frankie’s like: physical, devoted, kind. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever been with. Not like your last boyfriend, who would pull shit like this all the time: show up at your place at all hours of the day (or night) whenever he wanted something from you. Sex. Comfort. Sympathy. Who would text and call you all the time when you were out with friends because he couldn’t find his way to the fridge without your help.

Reluctantly, you hit the speed dial button to Frankie, and he picks up almost immediately, saying your name with barely contained urgency.

“Hi,” you say quietly.

“Hi. You okay?” Such a Frankie thing to do, make sure you’re okay after a fight where, technically, he’s the injured party.

“Not really. You?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“You mean the hangover or this morning?”

You hear the smile in his voice. “Both, but I meant the hangover.”

You exhale in an amused little sniff.

“I’m sorry, Frankie. Do you… wanna come over?”

“I’d love to. Have you eaten?”

“No.”

“Neither have I. I’ll pick something up. Burgers from that place you like?”

Your stomach rumbles at the mention of burgers but you’re more concerned with the sudden tears that rise in your eyes. Oh, Frankie.

“That would be great,” you manage, wiping at your eyes. Get a fucking grip!

“Parmesan fries?” he queries, but all he gets from you is a sob. “Baby?”

“I love you,” you sniffle. “You’re the best.”

“Aww, babe. I love you, too.”

You draw a deep breath to calm down, a little embarrassed at your emotional outburst. It’s not like you, but it’s been a weird day.

“You still there?” he asks.

“Sure.”

“Pepsi Raspberry for you?”

You start crying.

[nickcarr-scoutstories]

It’s 9:30pm. I’m watching TV. My phone rings. A number I don’t recognize. I’m about to let it go to voicemail, but at this hour, I’m curious. I answer. “Hello?” I say.

“Well, congratulations! You cased the joint!” says the elderly voice on the other end. Angry and sarcastic, it sounds a lot like Estelle Getty catching a cat burglar in her kitchen.

I pause. A long pause. “I’m sorry. What?” I say.

“Oh, I know what you were up to,” she says. “Well, you did it. You’ve got pictures of everything. Congraaaatulations. You cased the joint.”

I sit up, trying to figure out why I’m suddenly involved in a conversation from a 1930s pulp noir.

I think I’ve heard this phrase before, but I want to be sure. I grab my laptop and look it up. “Case the joint.” As per Wikipedia, “to thoroughly observe or examine a place, in order to familiarize oneself with its workings in preparation for criminal activity, often robbery.”

Then I realize the voice sounds familiar. In fact, it sounds a lot like the elderly woman whose house I scouted earlier in the day.

“Maude?” I ask with surprise.

“You know who it is,” she says bitterly.

And then I put the pieces together and I know exactly what’s going on.

Most of the time, when I “cold scout” houses (i.e. go door-to-door hoping to find a house open to the idea of filming), I just leave a flyer with all the pertinent information about both the show and myself, and let the homeowner call me back at their own convenience after they’ve had some time to think it over.

But once in a while, there’s an emergency situation and you have to work a lot faster. This is the situation now. We had a midcentury home drop out of filming at the very last minute, and we are scrambling to find a replacement by the permit deadline.

In these situations, I’ll typically knock on the door and talk to the homeowner directly in the hopes that I can scout on the spot. Some homeowners will ask for time to think about it. Others will welcome you right in.

Maude had done just this. She had ushered me right in to her exquisitely period living room, and even offered me tea. She talked about how long she’d lived in the home, how she’d raised three children here, and how she was excited at the idea of having some excitement again.

I scout a lot of homes in which an older person lives alone, and this is common. What should be a five minute scouting appointment will often extend to fifteen or twenty minutes as I hear stories about family, work, illness, death, grandchildren, past loves, and so on. I’ve come to realize that for many, I’m a rare interruption in a life where each new day tends to be a carbon copy of the previous, and I very much value the stories and histories life these homeowners opt to share with me.

When I left Maude’s home earlier in the day, the scout had gone wonderfully, and she couldn’t have been more excited at the prospect of having filming. But there is a very different woman on the phone. And I think I know what happened.

After I leave, she calls someone. Say, one of her children. She gushes about how a movie location scout just showed up at her door, and how her home might be featured in a big TV show, and that she might even get paid thousands of dollars for it.  

And then, that person reads her the riot act. “How could you be so stupid, Maude!” they yell at her, making her feel like an old fool. “There’s no TV show! He’s a crook! He was taking a pictures of everything so he could come back later and steel it all! He was casing the joint!”

Maybe Maude says no, that the scout showed his credentials. “They were fake! You really think someone out of the blue is going to knock at your door and pay you thousands of dollars to film a TV show? They were casing the joint!”

And Maude hangs up from the conversation, feeling foolish and scared and hurt and angry.

I hate that this has happened, knowing that her fake tough-guy attitude is actually her doing her best to deter me from carrying out the terrible plans she imagines I have cooked up.

“Maude, it’s me! It’s Nick, the location scout. Everything I told you is real! In fact, it was the director’s top choice!” This is true. There’s a very strong likelihood we will film at her home, with a fee approaching $10,000 for just a couple days.

But she refuses to believe me. I beg her to do a Google search for my name, or call my union, or call our production office, but none of it makes a dent. She just keeps saying, “yeah, right,” very sarcastically.

Finally, I realize there’s nothing I can say that will convince her. I tell her not to worry, that she won’t hear from us again, and that I’ll delete the pictures. “You better,” she says, and hangs up the phone.

I learn a very important lesson from this encounter. Now, when I’m cold-scouting and a homeowner invites me in on the spot, I stop them in their tracks. I tell them that first, it’s very important to me that they are sure I am who I say I am. I give a list of ways to verify my identity, and I encourage them to check before letting a total stranger in their homes. Most thank me later, saying I’d opened their eyes to just how easily they could have made a very bad decision if I were actually a criminal.

I’ve never had an interaction like my encounter with Maude since. And I also realized it explained a lingering mystery from my earlier years of scouting.

Back in New York, we were always under the gun to find locations as quickly as possible, and I became an expert at talking my way into homes to scout on the spot. But midway through, as I was taking pictures, I’d consistently notice the conversation suddenly take a noticeably awkward and uncomfortable turn. I could never put my finger on why that was.

Now I realize: it’s the moment the homeowner suddenly realized they had let a total stranger in their home, and that he just might be casing the joint.

--

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More stories: nickcarr.com

[elles-writing]

Dragon Heart - IV.

Taglist: @guardianofrivendell @anjhope1 @legolasoftherings @kumqu4t @grunid @elvish-sky @artsywaterlily @alexloveskili

If you want to be added to tag list, send me a message or comment please.

Warnings/triggers: -

She looked over at Bilbo, who was stirring, and decided it would be a good idea to prepare him a cup of warm tea with some honey and milk. Y/N remembered Bilbo loved this as a child.

So, her next steps took her to the hobbit's kitchen.

Before she stepped inside, Y/N noticed one - perhaps from the older ones - dwarf, who prepared a steaming cup of tea already.

The dwarf didn't seemed to trust her - of course - but his eyes little softened, because she knew Gandalf and Bilbo.

"What tea is that?" Y/N asked instead, genuiely interested.

"Charmomile, for Master Baggins." Y/N hummed and the dwarf quickly left the little hobbit kitchen. You looked around, more concentrated this time. Then, you looked over the hall, pantry, and living room, where was Bilbo, Gandalf and some of the dwarves.

Baggins', now Bilbo's house, has never been un-practical. Maybe for Y/N by it's size, but other than that, there was everything one would need for life.

When Bilbo catched her eyes, Y/N could clearly see he was uncomfortable, upset and absolutely, absolutely done with the subject.

The dwarves.

But most importantly...

Gandalf.

You shrugged, and decided to leave him his burglar-not-burglar game. Bilbo would not be patient forever, but he was mannered and clever enough to know what to do. You were sure the hobbit would feel his Took side with desire for an adventure again.

And take his chance to escape Sackville-Baginses.

As you walked around, you noticed some of the pictures. They seemed to be new - or at least you didn't remembered them.

You walked closer, and stepped on something. You looked down, and noticed it was a dagger. You've never seen the design before, but assumed it must be one of the dwarves'. You picked it up and studied it, when you overheard a voice next to you.

"Careful with this, it's been just sharpened." You turned to see a blonde, blue-eyed dwarf, with braided moustache. He seemed to have the same twinkle in his eyes as Kili.

"I can handle sharp things," Y/N said and looked back at the knife.

"It's nice. Not too light, but not as heavy either." Y/N was thinking aloud. She completely forgot the dwarf next to her, as she studied the dagger.

"You know Master Baggins," He suddenly said. Y/N turned to him.

What the-did he just-

"I do," You nodded, and placed the dagger to his hand.

What the-no, he just didn't-

"You don't look like you are related," he continued.

"That's because we aren't." You ended the topic. Instead, it was your time to ask.

"Who are you?"

"Fili, at your service m'lady," he gently took your hand and kissed the back of your hand, his eyes not leaving yours.

"Y/N, at yours...Fili," You said.

"Oh, Y/N, can I-can I talk to you, for a second?" Bilbo came and you gladly walked aside with him, while Fili send you a wink.

"Bilbo, to answer some of your questions - no, I didn't knew-"

"I'm not talking about the, the dwarves," Bilbo looked over the room with frown on his face.

"Then what is it, my little friend?" You said quietly in attempt to brighten up the situation. Bilbo was almost adorable with frowned pouty face, hands folded on his chest, patting the floor with his foot...only if you could stand straight in his house. Your back thought the size of his house was not adorable at all.

"Well, um...did Gandalf told you to bring them along?" You looked at him with scrunched face, and rolled your eyes.

"I wouldn't be coming if I knew there were dwarves involved. So, if anything, I share your unpopular opinion." And ruffled his hair. He jumped up.

"I'm not a little hobbit anymore, you don't have to do this," Bilbo said through gritted teeth, and you grinned.

"Well, you still are kind of little," You teased him futher, until a dwarf with sharp blue eyes, long, dark hair, and the biggest grumpy and pouty face you've ever seen (not even Bilbo could do that, when he was angy little hobbit).

That dwarf shot you a glare, and also to Bilbo, who was taken aside by him and Gandalf, again.

You felt sorry for Bilbo.

When he was free, you overheard him muttering something about 'surely not going', 'not going anywhere', 'wizards', and so on. You decided to go to sleep, because all of the dwarves were asleep already, and you needed to be up early.

You woken up quickly. The first thing you've heard was the snoring. You scrunched your face, and quickly packed your things. Then, you walked out of Bag End, and decided to wait for them there.

The sunrise was nice time, especially to prepare your horse for the day.

"Shh," you cooed her quietly. It was beautiful mare, tall, and very, very clever.

"It will be okay. We will find dad, and we will go away, to live far away...everything is going to be just fine," You muttered.

"You ready?" Kili stood next to you with a grin on his face. You jumped up a little.

"I am." You said, and noticed Kili's expression as he looked at your horse. You let out a laugh.

"You've never seen a horse before?" Kili walked back a little.

"Not really," he said and you noticed his blushed cheeks.

"Kili!" You both looked over to Fili, standing between two ponies, who called him.

-

"Do you think Bilbo will come?" Kili asked you.

"That hobbit won't show up," Balin said. He was on his pony next to Kili, so he thought he talked to him.

"It's no surprise. Why would Master Baggins leave his home," Thorin (as was the grumpy dwarf named) said.

"I wouldn't understimate hobbits, and especially not Master Baggins," Gandalf said as he smoked his pipe.

"I am sure he is going to come," He said.

And that's when the bet started.

-

It wasn't even five minutes after you left Shire, when you overheard Bilbo's voice in the distance.

"Waaait!"

You looked over to Gandalf, who was hiding a laugh.

"You planned this?" You quietly asked and motioned to the hobbit, who was breathing heavily.

"Well, perhaps," he said, and you scoffed a little and shook your head, as the dwarves seated Bilbo on his pony.

-

The day was beautiful. It was actually quite warm, just warm so you could put down your cloak.

As the evening was approaching, and the sun was setting into palette of gold and velvet, and the sky was getting darker, Thorin decided it was time to set up camp. After a quick argument with Gandalf, the wizard left to seek company of himself. So, there was nothing easier, than to just finding the best place to place your bedroll.

You, Fili and Kili were on first watch. You laid down on your bedroll, and watched the stars. It was cloudless night, plus the crackling sound of fire, and smell of fresh night air was relaxing.

Bilbo was just coming back from his pony, when a sound in distance made him freeze.

"W-what was that?" He pointed to the distance, while looking at Kili.

"Orcs," he said in low, deep voice. You sat up. Bilbo had a part of Took in himself, but he was not that much of a Took.

"There is going to be plenty of those," Fili said, and, obviously, Kili continued.

"They come at night, no screams, just lots of blood," He looked at Bilbo, and the shadows in his face, along with his deep and low voice made it come out horribly scary. Him and Fili started chuckling, but you sighed.

"The way you two snore would make them run for hills, so I wouldn't be that worried," You said, and noticed Bilbo to relax by the corner of your eye.

Kili looked over at you. You pulled out book from your pack. He quickly recognized it, even in the darkness of the night. It was that book you flipped through back in Bag End.

You sat comfortably down, and looked over the illustrations on the pages, and softly touched them.

"What is the book you are reading about, lassie?" Balin asked. You didn't looked up.

"It's a book with tales and stories my...father wrote down," you answered.

"He used to read them to me," you shrugged.

"Would you read some of them-ow, what was that for?!" Kili whisper-yelled at his brother, who chuckled.

"You're a child, Kee," He muttered to himself, and Kili pouted. But Fili was curious as well, which Kili didn't needed to know.

"Well...this one," You flipped a few pages futher.

"This one is called Strange thief and the stars," Y/N comfortably sat and started reading.

"There was once a man. He wasn't very known by name, but by his eyes. His eyes, deep and dark, with sparkles, reminding of stars. Nobody has ever seen eyes like this before, and people were whispering he has stars themselves in his eyes," You slid the tips of your fingers over the drawing, remembering the precision your father has made into repairing them.

"Many women tried to grab his attention, but anytime they didn't sucsceeded, the sparks in their eyes were less visible, but in his as well. And that is why men has decided to call him 'the thief of stars', or a 'strange thief of stars'. He was wandering through the lands, until he found what, as he realized, was looking for,"

"What happened next?" Bilbo asked.

"That girl didn't want to talk to him. She was very kind and caring, but not naive. One day, however, she found a dragon. Big dragon, who seemed scary, but saved her from orcs. The beast's eyes reminded her of someone, yet she didn't knew of whom." You realized everyone was quiet, listening to you, as you spoken.

"The next day, she met the man. He runned into her, in a rush, in a fear - and asked her "Did you see the dragon too?". The young maiden nodded, and helped him to get to safety, as he was very nervous and scared. Since that day, they became closer and closer. One day, when a few years passed, her father - an old, wise and kind man - said, his daughter will marry someone, who gives her something very special. The young man came the next day in their house they lived in. He said," you flipped the page.

" 'I do not have much to offer - gold, silver, or gems - but I do have this," he took out a notebook out of his coat, and offered it. The girl's father took the notebook, and opened it. It was full of drawings of flowers, animals and people - but mainly of one special maiden, when she was laughing, collecting flowers, brushing her hair, cooking, reading...When she came there, and looked throught the book, her father looked at her, and she nodded. So, he looked deeply into the young man's eyes, and said 'She chose you.' "

You finished the story, and Kili giggled at how interested his brother was.

"Now who's the child here,"

[uwuwriting]

Breaking in pt.2 w/ Aizawa, Shinsou and Bakugou

Request: Hi!! SoooOO I recently found your stuff and it's safe to say I am ✨obsessed✨ I LOVED the post you did of the BNHA reacting to someone breaking in with Hawks, Dabi and Todoroki. I was wondering if you could do another one with like Shinsou, Bakugou and Aizawa. I feel like Baku would throw mad HANDS. love your work stay stuff and have a good day x - anonymous

Okay I too love rescue fics and being kidnapped or held hostage is one of my favorite tropes. Throwing your kids in the mix is immaculat at least for me because I’m a die hard fan of domestic AUs. So of course I’m gonna write this trope again with these three idiots. I enjoyed writing the previous one so hehheehehehhe. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: some descriptions of violence, some crying but fluff/comfort in the end. 

Aizawa Shota II a son (Kaito)

-He was running late. 

-He hated running late.

-Today the class had extra training hours and it lasted longer than he expected, so much so that he had to call for someone to fill in his spot on patrol tonight. 

-In reality he really wanted to spend the night at home with you and your 2 year old son, canceling his patrol because the kids didn’t finish training was just an excuse. 

-He had shot you a text informing you that he would be home tonight but a little later than usual. 

-You had just picked up Kaito from his aunt when you got Aizawa’s message. 

-You were excited to spend some time with your husband. 

-Between your time teaching and his midnight patrols, the only moments you truly got to spend with him were in between the classes or when he came home for dinner and then immediately left. 

-You knew he felt bad leaving the two of you alone for so long and you knew he beat himself up for missing precious time with his son. 

-Opening your apartment door you were met with complete silence which was odd. 

-Usually your three cats, Mochi, Mocha and Coco would meet you at the door, mewing and purring at your feet, Kaito always wanting to be put down so he could pet them. 

-Now though none of them came and you immediately knew something was up. 

-Your spidey senses were tingling. 

-Setting your stuff down you held Kaito closer to you as you slowly walked around your living room and kitchen. 

-Nothing seemed amiss.

-Kaito let out a small whimper and shifted in your grip as something moved behind you.

-Just because you retired from being a hero doesn’t mean your skills have disappeared. 

-Oh no, as a new mom you were hyper aware of your surroundings and you easily dodged the blow that was aimed at your head. 

-Whipping around you came face to face with a hooded figure that seemed more like a burglar than a villain. 

-The dude's eyes quickly landed on Kaito and he let out a shaky breath. 

-They definitely weren’t villains.

-People were aware of Aizawa’s family and any villain who tried to get to him through you would have known about Kaito’s existence. 

- “Shit…. Yo she has a kid!” 

-Another one came pounding from the hallway, eyes quickly landing on the baby you had clutched to your chest. 

-Letting out an exasperated sigh the second intruder rolled his eyes, grabbing an umbrella from the hanger and slowly making his way towards you. 

-  “Just knock her out and tie her up, put the kid in a crib or something.” 

-You weren’t about to let them touch your son, they wouldn’t even be able to come remotely near him. 

-Activating your quirk, thrumming filled the air as you were prepared to fight them, to keep them away from the crying child in your arms and that’s when you saw him. 

-He is always so silent, his footsteps so gentle on the marble floor of your apartment that you have convinced yourself that he is indeed half cat at this point. 

-Aizawa was burning holes at the back of their heads, hair up as he activated his quirk, cancelling theirs. 

-You kissed Kaito as Shota let his capture tool fly across the room successfully trapping the two burglars. 

-In six strides you were next to him, checking for injuries on each other while simultaneously trying *and failing mostly* to calm your 2 year old down. 

-The police were called, naming this whole incident as a random burglary and not a scheduled attack, relieving both of you; you didn’t wanna move again. 

-That night Kaito slept in your room, cuddled on Aizawa’s chest as you were nestled under his arm. 

-Three fur balls were curled at the foot of your shared bed, purring away lulling you to sleep. 

-You found those three locked in your bathroom.

-Apparently Mocha had scratched the living hell out of one of the burglars and they had locked all of them in the bathroom for safe measure.

- “I’m sorry for this.”

- “Burglaries happen Shota, it wasn’t your fault. I’m glad you came when you did, fighting while holding Kaito would have been kinda difficult. I think I might be getting kinda rusty.”

-He stroked Kaito’s plush cheek before letting out a sigh. 

- “I have never seen him cry like that. When he sees me he always calms down but now-”

- “He was scared, Shota. He saw them before I did and the whole situation shook him up. But he’ll be fine, he’s got us.” 

-Giving you a kiss and then placing another one on his son’s forehead, he closed his eyes, arms tightening around the both of you a little. 

Shinsou Hitoshi II a daughter (Kei)

-Hitoshi had been to every single pharmacy in the area searching for Kei’s medication. 

-She had gotten sick and you had asked him to fetch some antibiotics your pediatrician had suggested you give her if her fever didn’t go down.

-Now, Hitoshi was getting desperate. 

-It was the flu season and almost all the pharmacies had emptied their shelves from this particular antibiotic. 

-He was ready to pull his hair out. 

-Apart from that, he also hated leaving you alone like this. 

-You both needed him at the moment and he wasn’t helping at all. 

-Kei was suffering from her fever while you were about 7 weeks pregnant and he was out here running around like a maniac. 

-In one last desperate attempt he entered another pharmacy and to his surprise they had what he was looking for and he was out the door in a flash, leaving the store without giving the clerk enough time to say a single ‘thank you, come again.’ 

-Sprinting home, he dashed into your apartment complex and up the stairs, fumbling for his keys as he neared your door only to find it already ajar. 

-Slowing down he looked at the open entryway; he was sure he closed it on the way out. 

-Why hadn’t you closed it? 

-Pushing it open he came face to face with a disheveled living room, Kei’s toys scattered everywhere while one of your armchairs was knocked over. 

-A small whimper suddenly pierced the air and Hitoshi would recognize his daughter’s cries from anywhere. 

-A deep voice told her to shut up which was answered by your angry voice threatening to beat the living shit out of them if they touched her. 

-With silent steps, Hitoshi tiptoed to your daughter’s room where he could hear the talking only to stop dead in his tracks when shuffling came from your bedroom. 

-Another figure emerged from your bedroom halting once they saw Shinsou. 

- “What th-”

- “Sleep.” 

-Without bothering to check if the intruder passed out, Hitoshi pushed open the door, his anger radiating all around him at the very thought that someone had touched his family. 

-The second person whipped around at the sound of the door opening, eyes wide as they met Hitoshi’s, fumbling to activate their quirk. 

-They made the fatal mistake of speaking though and soon they were unconscious just like their friend, laying on the pastel carpet of Kei’s room. 

-In one swift motion he had Kei in his arms and untied your wrists, rubbing the irritated skin and checking for injuries. 

-Kei wouldn’t calm down, her grip on his shirt turned to iron once the police dragged them out of your house. 

- “I wish I could beat their ass.” 

- “You know you can’t use your quirk right now kitten.” 

- “Yeah but they pissed me off.” 

-Your doctor had forbidden quirk use during the pregnancy and that’s why those two morons had managed to catch you. 

-The scowl on your face had become almost permanent and Shinsou couldn’t decide if he should find it cute or terrifying.

-Kei became attached to Hitoshi’s chest.  

-Hitoshi refused to let her go just like she refused to let him go, staying in his embrace for the rest of the day, any attempt to get her away from him resulting in tears. 

-You are kinda salty but some ice cream will fix that. 

Bakugou Katsuki II A son (Tatsuo)

- “Okay kids, you have a nice weekend and don’t forget to finish your family portraits for Monday. Tatsuo and I would love to see them.” 

-A multitude of goodbyes came through the screen as your kindergarten class, some of your students even opened their cameras to wave at you and your son who was sitting on your lap. 

-Tatsuo babbled back at them, little byes leaving his lips as he too waved back at your laptop. 

-Being in quarantine wasn’t that bad for a kindergarten teacher. 

-Your online classes weren’t difficult to manage and you got to spend more time with your two year old son. 

-The class loved seeing him and would ask if he was joining them each morning. 

-Closing your laptop, you hugged your mini Katsuki as you started heating up his milk. 

-You were humming, gently rocking him as you waited for the milk, giving him stray kisses here and there just to see his little nose scrunch up reminding you of Katsuki more and more everyday. 

-Checking your phone for any new messages, you let out a sigh at your husband’s message saying he was coming home; that was thirty minutes ago. 

-Hero work didn’t let up despite the quarantine. 

-Bakugou was as busy as ever, leaving first thing in the morning and most of the time returning home late in the afternoon sometimes staying out even after midnight. 

-Today though he had managed to get off earlier than usual, promising to cook for both of you tonight. 

-You knew he wanted to spend more time with Tatsuo and the fact that he was gone for the majority of the day was eating him up. 

-He was so worried that he was neglecting his son; he even convinced himself that Tatsuo would soon come to hate him. 

-Your son on the other hand was attached to Katsuki’s hip, always searching for his dad in the morning and beaming when Katsu came home. 

-He could never hate him. 

-The sound of the door opening snapped you out of your little Katsuki infused dream state. 

-Turning around you expected to see your husband in the living room, arms stretched out as he smiled at the two of you. 

-But you were met with three strangers; three hooded strangers holding a crowbar and two bags. 

-It was a staring contest for a solid five minutes before either of you moved. 

-One of them noticed Tatsuo and nudged his “coworker” who then informed the leader of the trio. 

- “Better not make a sound sweetheart, I’d hate hurting that pretty little face of yours.” 

-He took a step forward only for you to take a step back, until your back hit the cupboard. 

-He let out a chuckle and motioned for his rookies to search the place as he continued walking towards you. 

-Tastuo was gripping your shirt, eyes trained on the man, his brows downcast in anger. 

-Your phone lit up on the counter and in one swift move you grabbed it, pressing your emergency call button as the intruder rounded the counter. 

-You sprinted for the front door just as Katsuki picked up only to be grabbed by one of the other two and dragged back inside the house, Katsuki’s yells echoing through the phone. 

-Now you are aware that your husband is one of the top pro heroes. 

-You know that in order to rise to the top charts in this industry you need to have certain attributes like strength, tactical thinking ….speed. 

-You felt him more than saw him. 

-You were wrestling to get the hands of the intruder off of you when you felt the windows rattle. 

-And before you knew it, your husband had tackled the man holding you to the floor, knocking him unconscious with a single punch before pouncing on the other two. 

-Tatsuo was letting out small hiccups as tears rolled down his cheeks, his grip on your shirt never wavering but he refused to sob. 

-He had his father’s pride okay? Even at the age of two. 

-Katsuki had you both in his arms in a flash, calling the police before checking both of you over for injuries and what not. 

- “Did they hurt you? I swear I’ll kill them if they did.” 

-  “We are fine Katsu, just a little shaken.” 

-The moment Tatsuo was in Katsuki’s arms he began to cry, burying his face in his dad’s chest still holding on to your shirt. 

-It took an eternity to calm him down and even longer to put him to sleep, even though he was sleeping in your bed. 

-The next morning Katsuki was on the news for marching to the police station and beating the living hell out of the burglars. 

TAG TEAM AY:

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[beelspillowpet]

MC with ADHD

((As someone with ADHD as well, I felt inclined to do this!))

~

Lucifer

At first, doesn’t seem to notice it. Assumes you’re very nervous and express that through fidgeting.

It’s by the time he notices a cluster of symptoms does he begin to wonder if you have some sort of developmental short-comings.

Asks you in a roundabout way why you behave the way you do- trying not to offend but to understand. You may or may not tell him directly if it’s your ADHD or not.

After he realizes its your ADHD, he begins to accommodate you. He doesn’t want to make you feel like it’s all your fault. Will help control your impulses (and money spending) as well as keeping an eye out for signs of depression as well.

Mammon

Is probably the last person to notice it. Probably.

I mean, he’s the most chaotic brother in the family. He has impulsive issues just like you do, and the inability to keep focus on something from time to time is probably the only thing he notices, but doesn’t say anything.

It’s when you get so wrapped up in something that you forget to eat, or go to bed on time, does he begin to realize you may have a problem. You scared him while in the kitchen one night for a late midnight dinner. He thought you were a burglar.

He may ask Satan if he has any idea why you’re like that. Or he’ll just directly ask you. He may think he has ADHD too, who knows? Either way, nothing much changes between the two of you, and you both like that.

Leviathan

Like Mammon, he probably doesn’t realize it at first. He thinks you may be a hybrid of an Otaku and a Normie, or maybe you’re just an Otaku as well if you both enjoy anime.

After all, Otaku’s like Levi tend to get wrapped up in things like that. However, your attention span shifts easily, and it can be annoying when you both watch that Ruri-Chan movie that he really likes.

Being in his room sometimes is difficult, because of all the noises and lights and colors. It can trigger more symptoms, not to mention all the color-dyed foods and sugars you two eat.

Eventually he comes across an anime character that acts just like you, and decides to research them on forums. That’s where he finds out that it’s probably ADHD. After reading up on it, he decides to try and watch shorter animes, and quickly shift through games and other things to keep your hands busy while hanging out.

Satan

This book isn’t even that long, why are you not done reading it yet?

Could you be a slow reader? Well that would be fine. But the book is only about 100 pages long, and it’s been two weeks! Not to mention sometimes he catches you fidgeting with your hair and clothes. Thinks you’re just nervous.

Its when you finish the book and are absolutely in love with the story-telling and characters does he realize you may have some form of developmental issues. It’s been about a month since you finished the book but you still ramble on about them. Sometimes it’s about the same subjects as before.

Since then, he’s decided to help you in little ways that you (hopefully) don’t notice. He reads books to you, and when you start to feel unfocused, he shifts to talking about previous books you’ve enjoyed. When you want to get out of the house, he knows the PERFECT place to take you. There’s a cat cafe down the road!

Asmodeus

Darling, I thought you liked this shade of pink on your nails? Why do you want to change them already? Asmo doesn’t mind it much, he likes painting your nails anyways! Plus, he gets to hold your hand as a bonus~

Your mood swings an be a bit unsightly while around other people. At one point you’re having fun and then the next you’re exhausted and angry and want to go home. It’s only bee an hour but it felt like years to you.

On the walk home, you start rambling about some minor detail that ticked you off about someone, and it startles him. He listens intently, and you start going over details once, twice, and sees something is wrong. Maybe you’re just temperamental like Satan?

No, it’s the ADHD, you flat out tell him. He hasn’t really done much research on it, but when he gets home its the first thing he does. He starts thinking back on all your symptoms, and realizes that large crowds can be a trigger. He tones it back for your sake, he loves you and will support and fight for you!

Beelzebub

You are one hell of a picky eater. Like... you only eat certain stuff. Sometimes, when given the option of something new to eat, or the same old cheeseburger, you seem stuck on deciding what you want. Why is that? Not that he’s complaining- but still its off putting. He doesn’t question it regardless.

Picks up very quickly that your behavior is off. He sits back and thinks about it a lot, especially when you’re irritated and don’t know why. Did he offend you? He’s sorry, he’ll go get some snacks you like as an apology if it helps!

By the third time you’ve lost your D.D.D and ask him to help you look for it (only for it to be stuffed under your pillow after you’ve spent hours in bed that night reading or playing games to will yourself into exhaustion) does he ask directly.

When he realizes that it’s your ADHD (or you flat out tell him) he starts to be much more patient, especially when it comes to food. When you’re done cuddling and watching TV, he suggests you two go on walks. He doesn’t pressure you into coming to his games anymore, especially if crowds scare you. He adores the enthusiasm you have as you scream his name from the bleachers when you do, though.

Belphegor

Literally just doesn’t care. I mean, you are who you are. He can’t change that. But he can make you feel less of a burden because of it.

He probably asks you directly why you don’t sleep much. Especially around him. When you two talk about your dreams, yours always seem wild and chaotic, and you run through your sentences, excited to get to the BIG part of the story. Sometimes you forget important details just trying to get to that big part. Sometimes you over explain and retell the same details.

It’s those mood swings and depression that he catches from time to time that make him worry, however. He spends more time trying to help you get to sleep, thinking that maybe you need a nap to just recharge. He doesn’t mind your fidgeting, as he’s learned to sleep through it. Though your issue of staying up incredibly late does irritate him, he doesn’t push you too much on it.

He lightly teases you about some of your symptoms, though will apologize if he’s gone too far. You’re on your own when you lose your stuff, though. He’s not getting out of his nest to help you find your D.D.D this time!

[keiwritesstuff]

Hopeless

Ishikawa Yuki AU

Summary : When the pieces started to fall together, she knew she had no choice but to let him go.

Genre :  slice of life, angst

Notes :  long.  Self-indulgent. 3rd person POV. Not sure if I got the characterization  right. I wrote this all in one night. Not proofread, so there might be  misspelled words and grammatical errors. Based on a prompt. Best read on pc/laptop/browser (if you’re on your phone), since the layout changes when it’s read/opened on the phone tumblr app.

When did she start noticing it?

Was is sometime after their relationship reached the eighth month?

Or was it when he started showing strange signs or started doing things that were very much unlikely for him to do?

                                                         +++

Even before they started dating, when they were just friends, Yuki had always listened. Whether she’s venting, or just simply talking about how her day was; he would always, always listen.

And so, when she caught him staring into space that day, just as she was   talking about her thoughts on one of the matches she recently watched, she felt a little odd.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

He shook his head lightly. “I’m just a little bit exhausted. I stayed up watching the team’s past matches. For reference.”

She chuckled. That sounds just like him. Always finding opportunities to   improve. He never thought of anything or anyone lightly. He always believes that there is always something new to learn from everyone regardless of age and experience.

She gave him a little smile and brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. “You’ll do well. Your teammates got your back. You know that, right?”

He nodded.

And she brushed off the odd feeling. Yuki was just being…. Yuki.

_________________________________________________________

On  their date the following week, Yuki suggested that they go to their usual place for dinner; a restaurant with tatami rooms for private dining, surrounded by luxurious green landscaping to cater to the demands of the many wealthy patrons who frequent the restaurant. She’s not used to at all, since she grew up in an ordinary, middle-class family, but the food is heavenly, and the restaurant provides a safe space for the both of them to spend some time together.

Yuki was reading the menu, seeming unsure of what he would have that evening.  He was probably being cautious of his diet, she thought.

“I think I’ll have the usual.” she spoke first while Yuki was still scanning the menu. It’s the same food that she always had every time they went to the restaurant. Yuki was the one who suggested it when he first brought her to this restaurant, and she was teased a lot by him for not wanting to try anything else other than that particular menu, to the extent where he no longer needed to ask her what she would have whenever they go to this place for a meal.

She stifled a laughter when she remembered how Yuki used to tease her all   the time about it, how he used to attempt to steal her food and cutely asked her to finish the tomatoes in his plate, and how they often argued about the secret ingredients in the menu. This restaurant held all those memories.

She was happily smiling at the thought, until Yuki asked,

“Hold on… which one is it again?”

_________________________________________________________

Two weeks.

They didn’t see each other for two weeks after that last date. Yuki had a busy schedule, filled with practice, meetings, interviews and photoshoots. It wasn’t the first time they couldn’t see each other for a long period of time.

But it was the first time that Yuki couldn’t respond to a lot of her calls.

She was probably calling at the wrong time. His schedule usually ends at 10 p.m, but he must’ve had extended meetings with his manager after that. Or he just wanted to rest. After all, not all of her calls were left unanswered. He did answer some of it. And as she suspected, he was just exhausted. Of course he was. After all, he was the team’s ace.

She understood her position. She understood his as well. This is as normal as their relationship would allow. Who he is… does not allow them to  have what other couples have. They could not have that stroll at a park under the cherry blossom trees. They could not have those cheesy movie dates. They could not even go to the beach to watch the sun set, since there is a high risk of fans and paparazzi finding him.

Regardless, she was content. She loves him, and she would go above and beyond to  make sure his career is not jeopardized by their relationship in any   way, even if it means that she could not eat sundaes on broad daylight with Yuki.

                                                           +++

[Hey, how was your day? How was practice?]

She texted him.

[It was good.]

Came his reply.

[Did you have fun? Is Takahashi still messing with you since that day you accidentally ate his bread? Haha]

He responded,

[No, not really.]

Strange. It wasn’t like him to give that kind of replies. He usually would talk a  lot, even in his texts. He would vent about how his teammates kept teasing him for being so popular, or how much he wanted to eat greasy, deep-fried food.

This time, it was really strange.

[Hey.. are you alright?]

She hit ‘send’.

Two minutes later, a reply came.

[Yeah. Just dead tired. I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’m going to bed. Good night.]

_________________________________________________________

This went on for a week more. The short replies, the unanswered calls, the brief conversations. To say that she was not upset was clearly a lie, since things weren’t like that before. And it’s not like he didn’t respond to her calls and texts AT ALL. He did. It’s just that.. it has become somehow different.

Or was she the one who became strange? Has she become… clingy? Could it just be her mind playing tricks on her? Or perhaps… this is what to be expected when one is dating a famous athlete?

Then again, beggars can’t be choosers.

She should be more understanding of his job. She should be supportive. There are things that she herself has not understood yet about how the industry works and she’s sure that Yuki already has a lot on his plate. He isn’t just an athlete. He is an ambassador, a representative, and to an extent, an idol to many.

She shouldn’t ask too much of him.

_________________________________________________________

It  was on one Friday morning where she had to call in sick after waking up in  shock, immediately running to the toilet and vomiting. She knew right away that she caught a high fever.

Has she not been taking care of her health lately? Was she stressed at work?

Overthinking?

Regardless,  with shaking hands, and with the little consciousness she had left, she left a voice message for a close friend. She had promised him that she’d join him in a co-op expedition on Monster Hunter later that night.

“Hey, Yuji.. I can’t join you tonight.. high fever.. Need to rest. Sorry.. I’ll join you some other time, okay?”

With that, she hung up, mustered as much strength as she could, pulled up the covers and fell into an uneasy sleep.

                                                         +++

She was awoken by the sound of plates being handled. Her eyes shot open.

Burglar?

Terrified,  she turned around slowly, only to breathe out a sigh of relief when she  saw the person in her house. She had forgotten that she gave him the  spare keys to her house.

“Gosh..Yuki.. You scared me..”

“Oh, hey, you’re awake.” he replied, arranging something on the kitchen counter.

“W..what  time is it? How long have I been sleeping?” her hand roamed around for  her phone. She found it and checked the time. To her surprise, she was  out cold for a good seven hours and it’s already 3 in the evening. She  groaned. Her whole body still felt heavy, but that sleep was very much  needed.

“Are you alright?”

Yuki came to her and sat next to her on the bed.

On his lap, was a bowl of soup.

She stared at the bowl, and then.. at her boyfriend.

“Did you come here and….cook?”

“Yes..?  And.. I know you’re sick and all, but how come I only found out about it from Nishida? Why didn’t you call me?” he asked out of sheer curiosity while helping her to sit up straight. She remembered the phone call this morning.  “Oh.. I told him I couldn’t join our gaming session tonight.. he needed help taking down a boss. I didn’t have much strength to call anyone after that.”

“Taking down a boss..? Is it that important? You guys are ridiculous.” he teased.

She let out a weak chuckle. “Hey, Shara Ishvalda is not ridiculous. What’s ridiculous is you, suddenly showing up in my place after God knows how long we haven’t properly talked to each other.”

She meant is as a joke, but despite the fever flowing painfully in her veins and biting painfully at her joints, she could still notice the change in his expression. Oops. Did she say something wrong?

“I understand you’re busy. I shouldn’t ask too much of you.” she added, but  Yuki was silent. The expression on his face was unreadable.

Was  he upset?  What exactly happened to him lately? Is he exhausted?   Stressed? What is he hiding from her? Was something bothering him? Was it work?

Was it guilt?

Her thoughts were cut off when Yuki handed her a spoon. “I hope it tastes okay.” he spoke.

“Well... unfortunately, my tongue is currently deprived of its senses… and therefore, I deem your soup…”

She took a sip and imitated Gordon Ramsey’s face expression as best as she could,  “…mediocre in terms of its taste.”

Her attempt to lighten up the mood worked.

Yuki was laughing softly.

Ah, there he was. Her Yuki.

The person who had made her heart pound like a  drum, the man who  often put others before him, the man who made her realize just how much she could love someone. She hasn’t seen that smile for such a long time. She missed that smile.

She missed him.

All  she could do was stare at the man in front of her. With trembling fingers, she touched his cheek. “I missed this, Yuki. I missed you.” she said meekly. He took her hand in his own, but was silent for some time before saying,

“I’m here.”

“I know you’re busy. I know people expect a lot from you. I know you tend to carry the burden all on your own. I respect that. But-- I also  want you to know that if you need any help, all of us are here for you. Me, your teammates, your family.. I want you to always remember that  you---”

Yuki’s phone on the night stand vibrated, signalling an incoming call.

Yuki immediately answered the phone call and walked towards the kitchen, where she couldn’t hear him.

It  was a short phone call. After it ended, Yuki went back to sit next to her on the bed. But this time, she could no longer form any words.

As  much as she was surprised that she was interrupted mid-conversation,   she couldn’t stop the chills that ran down her spine. Immediately, that feverish burn in her veins was replaced by something much, much more agonizing, and she could feel blood rushing to her head, trying to make sense of what she had seen.

She saw the caller ID, and she knew who it was.

She knew that name. She noticed that Yuki probably didn’t realize that she had already seen it, considering how he was trying to act normal after that phone call, but somehow… just somehow…

Everything started to fall into place. Everything started to make sense.

_________________________________________________________

Of  all Yuki’s friends and teammates, only a few had personally known her.  She had grown close to Yuji after she and Yuki started dating (especially when he found out both of them loved games), and Takahashi texts her every now and then, spilling tea about the things her boyfriend do during training, and sometimes sent her pictures of young Yuki because he absolutely loved it when she teased Yuki about it.

Masa, though, is the only one who knew her way before she met Yuki. In fact, he was the reason they met in the first place. She and Masa coincidentally shared the same social circle, and their passion and interest in volleyball and manga made them friends.

When  Masa heard her voice over the phone in all seriousness, he knew   something had definitely happened. She was not the type who talks about what happens in her relationship to others. She had always tried to resolve any conflicts on her own first. It was her way of protecting herself and Yuki.

When she had finished talking, he became silent, mainly due to shock and disbelief. Several things were running through his mind. What was Yuki doing? Has that boy lost his mind?

“Or maybe I’m the one overthinking? I’m not sure what to think of anymore, Masa.” she spoke. She wanted to believe that she was indeed overthinking. That she saw wrong. That everything happened was either just a coincidence or just Yuki feeling exhausted because of work. She wanted to believe in Yuki.

But it was hard. It was hard when the pieces just somehow…fit together.

“Hey,  I’ll try and talk to him somehow and find out what’s going on. You should try to calm down and save your worries for later, okay?” he assured her.

They  had been friends for a long time. She knew she could count on him.   Plus, Yuki had always looked up to Masa. If there is anyone in the team who could get Yuki to talk about his feelings and thoughts in all honesty, it would definitely be Masa. She trusts him.

She trusts his judgment.

She wished she didn’t.

Because four days later, she received a phone call from Masa, confirming all her worst fears.

_________________________________________________________ 

Other than the restaurant, they have another secret spot where they could meet without the prying eyes of others.

It  was at a small, empty playground on the hills. During daytime, the place would be crowded with children and the elderly who found the place suitable for walks and light jogs. At night, the playground is completely silent due to its not-so-close distance from the nearest neighborhood, and because of it’s location on the hills, the playground is a lot colder and eerier at night.

It was ideal enough for Yuki and her. They would sit on the swings and talk about many things while looking at the view from the hills. On colder nights, they would stay in his car, eating snacks and enjoy each other’s company. She was happy enough to have him next to her, healthy and smiling. She couldn’t ask for more.

This  time, however, when she looked at him as he got out of his car and   walked towards her, she knew that she will no longer be able to even ask  for anything more.

“Hey,” she started.

“Hey,” he replied the same.

No hugs. No kisses.

It had really dawned on her that everything was ending right there and then.

Where do they start?

Where do things start to end?

Can it end quickly?

It’s starting to feel really, really painful.

She looked at him. Stared at him. His eyes, that see the best in everyone.  His nose, that he loves to scrunch. His lips.. that had showered her with soft kisses. His hands... that had given her warmth for so many times.

How did things turn out this way?

But  she knew she had to do it. It had to be done. What’s the use of a having a relationship if only one of them is committed to it?

“You know I’m breaking up with you, right?”

The words unexpectedly came out smoothly. She didn’t know she could be so… composed.

Inside, however, she felt as if every inch of her was slashed with a knife.

It seemed that he had already anticipated it. She could read the expression he wore on his face.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” she asked.

He paused for some time. And lightly nodded.

She  stared at the view. The city used to look so vibrant from where they were. Now, it just looks like random lights piling on top of each other.

It’s making her dizzy.

She turned around to face the other way.

Calm down. Calm down.

“I figured it out early on.” she added.

She heard Yuki taking a deep breath. He didn’t look at her.

Guilt.

He was about to say her name, but she was quick to stop him. “No. Don’t. Don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it. I don’t..need to hear it. I already know you’re sorry, Yuki.”

Don’t call my name. This is already hard . If you call my name, I’m not sure if I would be able to let you go.

“Instead  of saying you’re sorry… I just hope that you would treat her better.   Treat her nicely. Appreciate her. Respect her. Make things work, no matter what happens.”

Yuki stayed silent, and she continued,

“I realized that it is no use holding on to you, on this relationship, when it’s obvious that your heart is clearly with someone else.”

Breathe. It is for the best. Breathe.

“And  so, Ishikawa Yuki… I release you from this bond.” she spoke. Her lips formed a little smile, attempting to diffuse the heavy tension in the air. Yuki could only stare at her, wondering how could she stay cheerful despite  knowing what he had done. He was amazed at how calm and level-headed she  was at that moment despite the obvious pain in her voice.

“So..  you should go now. Tell her that we broke it off. Assure her, and yourself, that we ended things on good terms. And move on, Yuki. I will move on as well.”  she spoke again, giving him a light push on the shoulder.

Go. Please, just go.

“I… I can’t just leave you here.” he finally spoke.

“I won’t be here all night, silly. My car is right there, and  I have work tomorrow.” she chuckled.

Breathe. Breathe. Just… breathe.

Their eyes met for the last time, and with a strain in his voice, Yuki finally said, “Thank you. For everything.”

She forced a smile.

It  felt like an eternity. When will this end?

She smiled, almost bitterly.  “Go.” she insisted.

And he did. She watched his back as he walked away. She watched him as he got into his car. And she waved her hand lightly as he drove off.

Breathe.

However,  as soon as his car was out of sight, her knees buckled, and she knelt on the the ground. Biting her hand, she tried to stifle her cry as much as she could as she could no longer stop the tears streaming down her face.

It hurts. It hurts!

Help me. Anyone. Please. It hurts..

Please stop this pain.

How did things turn out this way? What did she do wrong? What exactly went wrong? What could’ve she done better?

Did she not love him enough?

Why couldn’t he give her his heart?

What did she do wrong?

What did she do wrong?

What did she---

“Hey.” a voice came from behind her and she looked up in shock.

“M…Masa?”

Masa read her tear-stained face as he knelt next to her. “He told me this   afternoon that he was meeting you here tonight. I told him to come clean about the whole thing.” he spoke as he took out a handkerchief and handed it to her.

“God, you’re a mess.”

“S…shut  up and let me grieve.” she managed to retort in between sobs. The tears haven’t stopped. How could they when she had held them back for so  long?

“Alright, alright.” Masa calmly spoke and sat next to her on the ground. She looked at him as if he was insane.

“C..Can’t a girl cry alone?” she stifled another cry.

“In  this place? Gosh, no. What if a couple comes here to have a good time and suddenly saw a girl crying on the ground? Good Lord, you’re going to scare the living daylights out of some poor souls. Have mercy on them, will you?”

She knew he didn’t mean it. She knew he meant well, judging from the hand on her shoulder that hasn’t left since he sat down.

She  clicked her tongue as a joke. Words have seemed to fail her by now. She  wasn’t sure what to do next. The love of her life has left her. What  will she do now? How will she move on? Can she move on to begin with?

The thought alone scared her, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably again.

“I..loved him, Masa.. but.. it wasn’t enough…”

She  felt him pull her closer and she felt his hand gently guiding her head to lean on his shoulder. “Here, I’ll lend you my shoulder. The first 30 minutes is   free. After that, you will be charged 500 yen per minute.”

She chuckled a little, but said nothing further. She let herself cry as much as she wanted to on his shoulder, the handkerchief was no longer of use at that point. His jacket was stained by her tears, but he made no noticeable expression of discomfort. He had been such a great friend despite his mean jokes, and she appreciated his presence next to her. She wasn’t sure what she could’ve done if Masa wasn’t there. Probably something really, really stupid and reckless.

                                                   +++

She woke up the next morning in a mess. She felt horrible, her eyes were still swollen, and her head felt unbelievably heavy.

Nevertheless, she woke up.

Just then, she received text messages. They’re from Nishida and Takahashi.

[Good  morning! I heard from Masa-san that you and Yuki-san broke up. No   worries! Let’s take down another boss tonight! I’ll let you curse as   much as you want!]

[Mornin’! Hey, look at this silly photo of Nishida.]

She  looked at the photo Takahashi sent. Yuji was getting hit by a ball while he was tying his shoelace. It was a bit blurry, but Yuji’s expression was definitely silly. She chuckled.

It turned out that Masa really didn’t waste any time to spread the news. Well, it’s better if  everyone knew. It would save her from many awkward moments in the future.

And then came another text. This time, it’s from Masa.

[Oi, good morning. How are you feeling?]

She chuckled. She felt a slight warmth from the text messages.

[I feel like shit]

[Of  course you do. I would be surprised if you suddenly said you’re fine, especially after what you put my jacket through last night. I found dried snot on it this morning.]

She unexpectedly laughed out loud.

[I’ll buy you another one. Sheesh.]

She managed to smile a little more.

She still wasn’t so sure how she was going to move on, but she will take the first step.

And she got up.

[unsaidmar]

Call.

a/n: hello peeps! this is a request! thank you for liking what i write, it means the world to me. love y'all. requests still open. 

wc: 1.5k hehe

warning: mentions of death, curse words, sad stuff.

pairing: spencer x bau! reader.

plot: For the first time, you’re not where he is. It drives you crazy. 

--------------

You considered yourself quite the resilient person. Emotions got to you but never incapacitated you. Danger was a given in the career path you had chosen and the prospect of it was something you were used to, but never like this. It was always your own life you were worried about, but the BAU had taken the grasp you had on your job and your reality and completely redifined it.

Being guarded with your emotions and affections was a defense mechanism you had developed thanks to your experience in law enforcement. People always got hurt and you had to move on from it, that’s just how it was. But the BAU was the one to break the mold.

Those people had been through a lot together, the good, the bad and the ugly. They had seen it all and done it all, and now you were a part of it. They took you in and accepted you like you hadn’t just joined the team and you let them. Soon enough, Rossi was walling you “kid” and kissing both your cheeks when he greeted you, Morgan was fist bumping you when you made stupid jokes and you were going out to dinner with Emily, JJ and Penelope. Not one of them hesitated to put their life on the line with or for you, and it shook your world.

All of a sudden it wasn’t just yourself you had to worry about, because every person walking into burning buildings and hostage situations with you was your family. You loved every one of them and losing them scared you a lot, enough to feel like your heart was beating out of your chest whenever they were in danger.

And still, you had to go and fall in love.

Spencer had woven himself into your life, your routine, your work life and eventually your heart. It felt like he was marking his territory before he knew he was doing it, something resembling a person moving into your home, but the things he left behind were more than a toothbrush or a book. He left his mark in little things you incorporated into your life and it slowly transformed the both of you into a collage of each other.

He started drinking soy milk when you convinced him it was not bad and that subjecting himself to the pain of being lactose intolerant and still consuming milk, wasn’t worth it. You stopped leaving your windows open at night when he freaked you out about stray cats taking residence in your couch and potential burglars getting in. And those absolutely inconsequential things were forever going to be a gift you had given each other, no matter what came out of your relationship, even if you went your separate ways. Which, you never did.

Three years into working at the BAU, and two into your relationship with Spencer, you got married. The both of you figured that the wait was not necessary because you knew very early on that that was it, you were it. Next thing you knew, your fourth wedding anniversary was coming up, and so were many other things.

After getting kidnapped and shot, you were never the same. You had come to terms with dying, you wanted it to happen so you didn’t have to deal with the inevitable trauma that came with surviving, but you weren’t that lucky. Everyone had been worried about you and the living ghost look you were sporting. It looked like you were re living the situation in your head every moment you were awake, and that was indeed the case. It haunted you when you were sleeping and it consumed you when you were awake, so Hotch made you take a break.

Stubbornness was your thing, so he took away your badge any other form of ID that could get you into the building, he didn’t answer your calls and only texted your work cellphone to ask you to stop asking him to reinstate you. Being alone with your thoughts was hell. Having your family out there risking their lives without you was even worse.

“Hey Spence, it’s me again… um... could you let me know if you’ve been getting my texts? It’s just that… you never not text me back and I’m getting worried. Is that too much? I’m probably being ridiculous. Anyways, call me back. Or text. Just let me know you’re okay. I love you.” You sighed and put your phone down for what felt like the twentieth time in the last half hour.

This had never been the case. You were never the worried spouse that had to rely on phone calls or texts to communicate or to even know your husband was alive. It made you empathize with Will, with Haley. It made you want to ask them for advice on not going crazy. Your mind was already going rouge.

I can’t be a widow. I can’t mourn the love of my life, how does anyone? What happens if I lose him? How foolish of me to have dismissed this when we got married. We’re FBI agents, for the love of God. We point guns and have them pointed back at us for a living. I’ll have to take my ring off. Do I keep it? I can’t look at it if he’s gone. Who picks out the dress for the funeral? If I have to do it, I’ll go insane. I can’t bury him; I can’t go watch them lower him to the ground. I will just cremate him and split his ashes so his mom has him too. His mom. That woman won’t be able to bear outliving her baby. God, please pick up the fucking phone.

You: Honey, please text me back!!! Have someone text me for you, idc.

You: Spence, charge your phone.

You: Why is Derek not texting me back either?

You: Are you angry at me?

You: I’d rather you tell me if you’re angry. Don’t ghost me when you’re on a case.

You: Spencer.

You: I’m calling Penny.

Three rings it took for Penelope to answer.

“Hi my sweet, beautiful, ____. How can I be of assistance to you at this indecent hour of the morning/night?” She chirped, her tone already relaxing you. She would be the first to know if something had gone wrong.

“Hi Penny, do you have any word on the team? I keep calling and texting Spencer and he hasn’t gotten back to me. It’s been like three hours.” You said, holding back the tears.

“Oh, sweet stuff. Last I heard, they were delivering the profile. They’re in Kansas and there was a tornado warning. The power is out. Maybe all of their phones ran out of battery.” She tried to reassure you, like always, already knowing what was happening in your head. “Is everything okay? Have you slept?”

“Not really. Spence stopped replying and I got anxious.”

“Don’t worry hun, bad news travel fast.”

“Yeah, yeah… you’re right. I should…”

Before you could finish your sentence, the door creaked open and you saw a defeated looking Spencer hang his jacket and take his shoes off trying to be quiet, assuming you were asleep. You felt the color come back to your face and you dropped the phone on the couch without even making sure you had ended the call.

“Oh, thank God.” You ran to him and aggressively hugged him. Much to your embarrassment, the tears you were trying so hard to hold back were now streaming down your face.

“Hey, hey…” He took in your appearance and instantly worried about you. “What happened? Is everything okay?”

“What the fuck happened to your phone? And everyone else’s for that matter!” You said, letting go of him and raising your voice without meaning to. Spencer knew you never yelled, so he was taken aback by your words.

“It died, ___, four hours ago, the power went out and the generator wasn’t working. Why are you screaming?” He rushed out.

“Because you never texted me back and I thought you were dead!” Your voice was a lot calmer now, much more frustrated and tired.

“Honey, I’m so sorry, everything happened so fast, I didn’t even think about my phone. I didn’t mean to make you angry; I promise.”

“I’m not angry, baby. At least not at you. I hate being here and not out there with you. I can’t sit around and wait for you to give me proof of life. it’s driving me insane and it has only happened once.” You groaned, choking back quiet sobs now. “I can’t lose you. I can’t be the last to find out.” You fell to the couch like your legs had stopped working.

Your husband was looking at you like he didn’t even think about that, like the realization had just hit him. You couldn’t blame him, neither of you were used to that dynamic of checking your phones because the one person you would want to update was always along for the ride.

“Baby, you’re not going to lose me. I’m so sorry, I promise I’ll care more about my phone. I didn’t mean to worry you.” He said, crouching to be eye to eye with you and taking your hands.

“No, no..I’m sorry. I’m being ridiculous, I went crazy. You shouldn’t have to do that…” You kissed his knuckles and slid down the couch to sit on the floor with him. All you wanted was to be near him. You put your arms around his neck and whispered. “I love you, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I was losing it. I’m not used to this feeling of not knowing where you are or if you’re okay, I felt helpless.”

“It’s okay hun, I get it, I love you too. We’re both new to this whole being-a part thing. If I’m honest, I don’t like it.” He pulled you to his lap so you were tangled up like a koala.

“I hate it. It 's the worst. I’m done with this break”

“Hotch is just looking out for you, he wanted to give you your space after the accident. You can talk to him and see how he feels about you coming back.” His reassuring words were already lightening the mood, and you were grateful he was fine. Once the adrenaline died down, the sleep you had been missing hit you like a ton of bricks. You stifled a yawn and planted a kiss on Spencer’s forehead.

“You’re tired. Let’s go to sleep.” He took notice of your droopy eyelids and went to stand up. “Have you been awake all this time?”

“Yeah, I couldn’t just go to bed.” You replied, removing yourself from his lap and taking his hand.

“Come on, let’s crash. I’m off tomorrow, we don’t have to wake up early.”

Oh, thank the lord.

“I’ll go to sleep, but I have one condition.” You said with your best attempt at a mischievous grin.

“What is it?” Spencer asked, knowing that tone and that face all too well.

“Get a stupid portable charger.”

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

EPILOGUE: A HOUSE DIVIDED

Word Count: 1451 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: T Content Warnings: swearing, references to violence (canon-typical), heavy angst  Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: Darkness Falls || Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has stuck by me, read, reblogged, commented, messaged. I don’t know where I’d be without all of you (probably still back at chapter 3). While this is the end of Light Fingers, it is not the end of the story. I just need to take a little time and approach canon with care.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A week of radio silence followed that night. As the days went by, you tried your best to return to your normal, to waiting tables and bantering with kitchen staff and trying to pretend you weren’t holding yourself together by a thread. 

Something immediately felt off as you entered the apartment one night after a double shift and dropped your keys by the door. Conjuring enough light to see and no more, you began creeping through the room. It didn't take long to see that all of Diego's things were gone - except Duncan, the dog snoozing blissfully on the couch. You weren’t surprised. After all, if he’d wanted to put things back together, or thought you could, he would have reached out before now. So instead he had quickly and quietly removed his presence from your apartment, and very likely walked out of your life without a word. The thought stung, that for all you had intertwined your lives, he was still able to remove himself in a day. 

The light on your answering machine was blinking, and numbly you hit the button and listened to Patch’s message. 

~

“Thank you for finally returning my call,” Eudora said exasperatedly, as she took a seat across from you in the little cafe the following Sunday.

“Sorry Dora,” you offered her a sheepish and regretful half-smile. “I haven’t really felt like seeing anyone lately. Besides, I didn’t want to put you in an awkward place. I know you and Diego were, are…”

“Close? The three of us all were. Why do you think I’ve been trying to reach you?”

You looked down, tracing the wood grains of the tabletop. “There’s no fixing this one, Dora. We’re...too far gone.”

“How? You two were good for each other. A blind man could see it.”

“Irreconcilable differences.”

“We both know that’s bullshit, Y/N.”

“I...made a choice. One Diego couldn’t agree with. We fought about it. And when he decided to walk out, I not only let him, I practically packed his bags. And in the end it turned out to be pointless anyway.”

Yesterday’s paper had contained an article about how the investigation into Reginald had been dropped for lack of foundation, and he’d been able to collect a substantial insurance payout for the warehouse, and the feds had offered an official statement of apology on top of everything else. You had scared a local alley cat with the tantrum that had followed reading that. Because of course, trying to take him down had cost you everything and he’d still won in the end. How else could it have gone?

“Why do I bother,” Eudora sighed with a frustrated gesture. “I should have known you’d be just as cryptic as he was.”

“It’s complicated, Dora, so it’s easier than trying to explain and sounding completely nuts. I wish I could tell you. But the details don’t really matter, just that I fucked up, big time, and I can’t undo it.”

She reached across the table to take one of your fidgeting hands in her own. “Y/N. Listen to me. I know you and I know Diego. It’s not too late for the two of you. I can tell how much you both still care.”

“It’s not about that,” you struggled to keep back your tears. “We just weren’t meant to be. Forcing it will only break things worse.”

You winced, the words sounding harsh and a little bit fake. But they were true, or at least that’s what you wanted to convince yourself of so that you could move on. 

“Besides, he came by when I was at work and took all his stuff. Doesn’t that pretty much scream final?”

“I’ve talked to him, Y/N. I’ve seen him. He’s really messed up. And I don't think he's eating much or sleeping at all if I'm being honest.”

“Why are you telling me this?” your voice trembled, heart breaking with every word. 

“You could find him, probably at the Lion,” she fixed you with a look and tilted her head to one side. “You could talk to him.”

You shook your head. “There's nothing left to say.” 

“You're really giving up that easily?”

You wanted to scream, or to somehow explain that it was anything but easy. But that it was the right thing to do. For Diego’s sake. He, and she, would understand someday, you had to believe that.

“Eudora, please.”

“Fine. If neither of you is going to fight for this, I guess I should just deliver you his message.”

Despite yourself, your heart leapt at the idea Diego actually had something left to say. And then it plummeted a moment later when you realized that whatever it was, he couldn’t say himself, he had to ask your mutual best friend to do it for him. 

“I’m sorry, that you’re stuck in the middle. You don’t...have to be our carrier pigeon. If you don’t want to,” you said sheepishly, shrugging slightly. 

“If I don’t, you wouldn’t communicate at all.”

“That might--”

“If you say it’s for the best, I will walk out,” Eudora snapped, making you reel back in shock. “I hate the cryptic non-answers, but at least it’s not full-on lying to me. So don’t start.” 

You swallowed down whatever you were going to say and sighed. “You said you had a message from Diego?”

“He asked me to give you these,” she laid a set of keys on the table. “Said the apartment was your home and he’d never dream of trying to take it in whatever divorce papers you end up filing. And that he picked up his things, which I know you saw. Anything he left behind, he said, is not important.”

You looked down at the keys, letting some of the tears you’d fought so hard against fall. 

‘He left me behind,’ you wanted to say. ‘He left us.’ But that wouldn’t be fair, or help anything, so you bit your tongue. 

“Y/N,” she sounded apologetic but you could tell she no more knew the words to say than you did. Instead after a moment, she carried on. “He also said that a gym is no place for a boxer, which I think was him trying to make a joke, and that at least if you keep Duncan, he’ll know there’s someone watching your back and making sure you come home.”

You couldn’t help your snort of disbelief or the bitter tone of your response. “As if I’m the one to worry about there, not him with his stupid vigilante crime-fighting bullshit. I only ever got involved in that because of him, for him.” Somehow, that was the thing that opened the floodgates and you began to cry in earnest. “Fuck, Dora. He’s going to get himself killed someday.”

She reached over to take your hand again, giving it a comforting squeeze. Silence reigned over you for a few minutes, while she let you cry it out and offered you quiet support. 

“He won’t,” she said, eventually. “We both know he’s careful, and insanely lucky. And…” she sighed, rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to leave him completely on his own. I’m in line for an early promotion, and then I’ll be able to have people looking out for him.”

You offered her a watery smile, almost laughing. “I don’t know what I’d do, or either of us would, without you.”

She shrugged. “Good thing you won’t ever find out.”

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally, as it always did, or nearly so. After a few stinted failures to start, you carried on as if it was any other coffee date. As you were paying your bills, the light caught the silver band still on your finger. You bit your lip, slowly sliding it off, its weight heavy in your palm despite how slim, how small it was.

“Eudora, can I ask one more favor?” you asked hesitantly.

“Of course, Y/N. What are friends for?” she said, offering you a smile.

You held the ring out to her. “Can you give this to Diego for me? And tell him that I’m sorry. And I still love him. No, actually, don’t tell him that. Just...that he should have this back, and I hope that maybe someday, I can be the person he saw who deserved it. Or something like that. I don’t know. It sounds stupid, doesn’t it?” You shook your head, swiping at more tears that were threatening to spill. 

She flashed you a sympathetic half-smile. “I’ll give him your message.” 

Your fingers shook as you passed the ring over to her, a heavy weight of true finality settling over you.