#I said I was going to step away and I really should

[just-your-average-shiz-student]

There’s probably a discussion to be had on how much Madame Morrible, respected as she may be, can effectively groom two young adults, but regardless, I am delighted by how the movie highlighted how manipulative she is from the moment Elphaba steps into Shiz.

I keep thinking back on that brief moment during What Is This Feeling when Glinda stops and Elphie is jumping from excitement (an openness of emotion she can scarcely express in front of other people) before Madame Morrible reaches out and holds her.

She actually trusted that woman, someone who saw her potential and believed in her from the get-go, who (at least outwardly) barely even took notice of her green skin. And all that newfound validation gave a boost to Elphaba’s confidence that was probably crucial for her sanity as a social pariah in Shiz. Madame Morrible did that for her!

Really, the only flaw in Morrible’s and the the Wizard’s evil scheme was that Elphaba’s principles and desire for justice were stronger than her need for anyone’s approval.

And that is so crazy to me, because if there’s a person who by all accounts should be subjectable to doing things in exchange for validation, it would be Elphaba. There’s so very few people in the world who have her back. Really, there’s only Glinda, Fiyero, Dulcibear, and Dr. Dillamond, who has been arrested and can’t help anyway. It’s amazing (read: depressing) how small her support system is.

And still, AND STILL, she managed to walk away from an opportunity of belonging somewhere, doing something she is good at (magic), with people who could grant her everything she ever wanted!

But as she herself said in Defying Gravity, she “can’t want it anymore”. So it’s not even a case of her not wanting that validation and acceptance anymore, it is her deliberately choosing to let that go in favour of something greater. And I know this addition was mainly about Morrible, but truth is, I’m not sure if she would be able to have the strength to refuse her and the Wizard’s offer if it wasn’t for Glinda.

Glinda, who could not have made a less favorable first impression on Elphaba. Glinda, who had the social power to make the whole student body accept Elphaba, but chose not to due to her own desire to be seen as a martyr for tolerating Elphaba’s presence (even if she seeks her out during times she really doesn’t need to for some reason). Glinda, who desperately wanted Morrible’s attention, the one thing Elphaba had that she did not.

But once their friendship blossomed, Glinda really became Elphie’s biggest defender.

She didn’t change a single thing about her appearance during Popular; when Elphaba’s invitation to go to Emerald City came, she was there right at her heels, supporting her, being proud of her, not really trying to shift the crowd’s attention to herself at all.

When the train comes, even though she is happy for her, there’s a part of her that’s morose about the prospect of being away from her best friend (“How will I manage without you?”), even if for such a short time.

While they’re going through the Wizard’s palace, Elphaba is anxious the whole time, and so is Glinda, but she is the one who pushes her forward with motivational words (“You can do anything.”).

And finally, during Defying Gravity, Glinda takes the first step back in their relationship since Ozdust, refusing to go with her. But even then, she doesn’t belittle Elphaba’s decision.

She initially resents the fact that Elphaba’s reaction “hurt her cause forever”, but once she sees what the other girl’s planning to do and that there’s no convincing her to give up, Glinda’s still supportive.

She gives Elphie a cloak so she won’t feel cold during her flight, she smiles at her even though it’s obvious she’s doing everything in her power to not fall over in a sobbing mess. Even her simple “I hope you’re happy” shows how she’ll always stand for Elphaba herself, even if she can’t stand with her cause.

And for as much as we like to make fun of how Madame Morrible clearly couldn’t stand Glinda from the very beginning and was always throwing really unnecessary jabs at her, I think deep down she saw the danger that could come from a friendship between the girls, how more difficult it would be to get Elphaba to be so reliant on her validation if she could get it from another source.

That’s why she seemed specially dissatisfied seeing that Glinda had gone with her to Emerald City, that’s why the Wizard himself felt the need to extend his offer of a permanent stay to Glinda too: because they both could see the influence she has on Elphaba.

And contrary to them, there’s no ulterior motive there. Glinda believes in Elphaba for who she is, and regardless of how strained their relationship becomes in the future, that never once stops being true.

you noticed how Glinda doesn't really let go of Elphaba basically from the Ozdust scene on and she's basically always holding Elphaba's hand or hanging onto her arm, even when its physically awkward to be doing so. and even during Defying Gravity after its clear that Glinda isn't going with Elphaba, they're still holding hands right up until the point where Glinda is grabbed by a guard and forcible pulled away from Elphaba

[madridfangirl]

Cricket with the Bellinghams

(Jude & Jobe Bellingham blurb)

'Should we ask her to play as well?’

Jobe asked Jude while nodding in Ananya’s direction. Jude finished setting up the wickets, then turned around to look at his girlfriend who was currently pacing around the living room while on a serious work call. On a Sunday afternoon.

‘She might go all can’t you see I’m dying out here and what makes you think I have time to spare for playing?’

Jobe nodded in support of his brother.

‘Yeah she shooed me away 10 mins ago for breathing too loudly around her.’

‘Exactly. On the other hand, she might go all feminist if we don’t ask her and be like so you assumed I can’t / won’t play just coz I’m a girl?’

Jobe nodded again.

‘Yup, can see that too. What do we do then?’

‘You ask her. She’s sweeter to you.’

‘Oh bollocks. You scared of your girlfriend bro?’

‘Talking about me?’

Both brothers jumped to find her standing right behind them. How did they not hear her come in to the yard at all?

Jude was a little tongue-tied wondering how much she had heard so Jobe decided to take the reins.

‘Just wanted to ask if you’d like to play cricket with us. If your work is done I mean.’

‘Oh it’s not done. It’s never going to be done till I burn that place down. Might as well play a bit.’

Jude scanned her closely - it didn’t look like she had heard much at all. He smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

‘Wanna bat first?’

‘Sure. Gonna beat your sorry ass with it.’

Jude’s arm dropped from around her, as did his smile, while Jobe giggled behind the stumps. He could already tell this was going to go places.

‘Excuse me?’

‘You heard me.’

‘You know Jobe and I used to play cricket in school right?’

‘And I’ve grown up watching it. What’s your point?’

While Jude was always fiercely competitive, he knew she was a demonic warrior when she wanted to be. This clearly seemed like that day. He still ranked himself far higher in skill, so he knew it would end the way he wanted it to.

‘Game on then.’

‘Yup.’

‘Not gonna go easy on you dove.’

‘Didn’t ask you to.’

Jobe looked between the two of them, wondering how a light fun-filled afternoon had completely turned on its head. What he didn’t know was that the couple had been arguing over small small things all weekend. The kind of fights where you won’t even know half way in what it really was about or where it started from. So what was happening right now didn’t just originate out of nowhere.

Jude counted the steps of his lineup and got in position. Though he had said no mercy, he still decided to bowl slow, just short of out and out underarm. Even with that he was sure he’d beat her. But at least it would look like a contest then.

He bowled the first delivery. She had all the time in the world to step out of her crease, catch the ball mid -air and hit it into the outfield.

It took Jude two seconds to process what he just saw, after which he chased the ball. By then she had taken two runs. Jobe hooted from behind the stumps, patting her on the back.

All mercy went out of the window then. Jude took a proper run and swung his arm fully for the next delivery. The pace of the ball and short length of this make-shift pitch made the ball go over her head for a bouncer.

She gaped and looked at him in horror.

‘That could have hit me.’

‘Please, that would have gone over Jobe as well.’

‘Tryna show off? Or intimidate me?’

‘Just taking the game seriously.’

He shrugged nonchalantly, which annoyed her even more.

‘Good to know there are a few things you still take seriously.’

‘Wait what’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Just go back and bowl.’

‘Don’t mind if I do.’

Jobe wondered if he should leave them alone and let them sort out whatever the hell was going on here. But both would have given him dirty looks if he even mentioned that. So he stayed shut.

The next ball whipped past her shoulder. Jude just looked her up and down, before walking back for his run-up. The unabashed cockiness pissing her off. He had done that consistently last few days - just setting her off with this air about him.

Next ball came. Straight on her legs. She swung the bat with all her might but couldn’t connect it properly and the ball grazed her front leg.

‘OUT. That’s an LBW.’

‘Nope. That was a no ball.’

‘No it wasn’t. I was way behind my line.’

‘Rubbish. I could see from here it was a no ball.’

‘Jobe?’

Jobe looked between the piercing eyes of both.

‘Yeah I’m not touching that with a barge pole.’

‘Coward.’

They said together, then looked at each other to acknowledge their telepathic connection, corners of their lips threatening to twitch with a smile. But the game was still on and neither was ready to give in.

However, Jobe decided to call it quits and said his goodbye after making some lame excuse. He would rather vegetate in bed than be the go between for this sparring hot headed pair.

‘One final ball. If I get you out I win. If you score even 1 run you win. Else it’s a draw. Deal?’

‘Deal.’

Jude weighed his options. Anything above her torso would be risky, she wasn’t good with ducking or swaying in time. But blocking she was quite adept at, from what he had seen just now, so a clean bowled or LBW targeting the stumps would be the way to go.

He stood on his mark. Before starting his run-up, he gave her a final look, almost giving her the window to back out. But she was a woman on a mission today. To humble his sorry ass. No matter what it took.

He bowled the final delivery. It was on target. Right on her front leg. She tried to block well, just like he had predicted. But it was a straight LBW. Clear as day.

However, celebrating was the last thing on Jude’s mind because in her rapid attempt to block, the ball deflected off the edge and hit her on her index finger.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t make any sound. But the bat dropped from her hand immediately and she turned around, holding her finger tightly.

Jude ran to her and was in front of her in a few seconds.

‘Show me.’

It wasn’t a request. He didn’t leave any room for her to be a sore loser & act out. Instead, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her other hand away to take a good look at the finger.

Then, he moved it a little bit and on one particular angle she cried out in pain.

‘Sorry, had to check for a fracture. But it’s just a sprain. Wait here.’

Again, it wasn’t a request. Jude came back in record time with a first aid kit and a pack of ice. He applied a quick ointment to soothe the nerves, then covered her finger with an ice pack, keeping it there for 2 mins sharp.

‘Try moving it now.’

She did. And just like that the pain was gone.

She looked up at his concerned face with a half-smile.

‘All good.’

Jude stood there motionless for two seconds. She wondered if he had even heard her.

But then he grabbed her arms and pulled her in for a crushing hug, kissing her head and face all over.

‘I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry baby.’

‘It’s fine it was just a sprain and it’s not your fault.’

‘Ofcourse it’s my fault. I hurt you.’

‘Jude, it was an accident.’

‘You got hurt because of me.’

‘Jude, it’s fin…’

He grabbed her face, tilted it up and kissed her like his life depended on it. Her hands came up to his biceps for support.

‘Are you mad at me? And I’m not talking about just now.’

‘No. I mean, I don’t know.’

‘I don’t like us snapping at each other like this. It sucks.’

‘I know baby. It’s just…I don’t know….maybe it’s work…it’s just been super crazy and…..’

‘And sometimes I can be a lot to deal with yeah?’

He looked at her so earnestly that she couldn’t keep herself from giving him a genuine smile.

‘Sometimes. But I know I can be difficult too and it’s just……’

‘Shhhhh it’s ok, it’s fine.’

He pulled her close again, peppering kisses over the top of her head.

‘I know just the thing to let out some frustration.’

‘If you’re talking about sex you can stop talking. I’m still irritated.’

‘Actually that’s an even better idea. But what I had in mind was more like a punching bag. Have one in the gym.'

'That....is a surprisingly brilliant idea.'

He shrugged cockily, and she rolled her eyes at him.

'Wanna give it a go, then? Can show you some punches.'

'Yes pls. Maybe we can make it a thing. I sure might.'

'So long as you don't imagine my face while punching the bag it's cool.'

'We gotta do what we gotta do.'

With that, she turned around and walked back into the house. While Jude stood there a bit, staring after her. She was full of surprises, never a dull moment with her. And Jude loved it all.

...............................................................

Was missing my babies so literally wrote this in 30 mins. Hope you like it :)

[threestarsinline]

The Word of Your Body

Jason Todd x reader one shot

Summary: Jason comes back from patrol, but something is keeping his mind still somewhere out there. You're always there to bring him back and let him know he's safe. At home. With you.

Word Count: 5.8K

Category: Angst-ish because Jason is going through it but fluff because reader is there to comfort him

Warnings: Jason having a bad time

Author’s note: I know, I know, three fics in one year?? Who am I? Jsjksks truly an achivement for me, very happy and very proud hehe. Thank you for sticking with me and supporting my fics, I love you all. That said, enjoy!

It’s really incredible how much one can know about a person just by their body. From the way they move, to how they carry themselves, to the small gestures that they make in their day to day that reflect who they are, to the little telltale signs of how they’re feeling. A smile, a wrinkle between the eyebrows, a twitch of their hand.

And not just the movements of the body but you can also learn a lot from the singularities and marks that one has on their skin. A child with a scrape on their knee from running too fast on the playground. A chef with hundreds of small cuts on their hands from mastering the use of a knife. A ballet dancer with wounded toes. A painter with watercolors under their nails. A piano player with soft and delicate hands.

You can have a lot of information about a person just by observing them, knowing how they move and how their body reacts to things. A flinch from fear at the threat of danger. A shiver at the gentle touch of a lover.

That’s how you immediately know that something’s wrong when Jason returns from patrol. And you don’t even need to see him.

You’re reading in bed when you hear him come in. Always waiting up for him whenever you can. It isn’t difficult for you since you’ve always preferred staying up late rather than waking up early. Unless you have something to do early the next morning, you always wait for him to come home, to come to you, liking to see him as soon as he returns to make sure that he’s made it back to you safe and sound.

You either read or watch something on TV while you wait despite how many times he’s told you that you don’t have to wait up for him, that you should sleep. And every time you shake your head and say, “And go to sleep without you next to me? Never.” And every time Jason rolls his eyes at your stubbornness while his heart thrums in his chest at how much he loves you and then gently cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly.

And even when you can’t help it and you do have to go to sleep earlier or exhaustion wins over you and brings you to the depths of slumber without warning, Jason always approaches you quietly so as to not disturb you and kisses your forehead to let you know he’s home. If you’re on the couch he brings you to bed, and if you’re already in bed, he settles the covers better over you, just the way you like.

And those times you always smile in your sleepy state and unless he’s injured and needs your help patching him up, you follow semi consciously the sound of his footsteps around the apartment. The sound of the shower as he steps inside to rinse away the Gotham night clinging to him, the sound of rustling sheets as he finally climbs into bed with you, and are finally lulled back to sleep when warmth surrounds you as he brings you into his arms.

You’re no metahuman but you’ve developed a sixth sense for everything regarding Jason Todd. You would be able to easily spot him in a crowd of thousands after having just faintly heard his voice in the distance even if he didn’t have that white tuft of hair singling him out, all your senses zeroed in on him. It’s like your body and mind are always tuned to find him, like tweaking the dial of the car radio to find your favorite station and finding it on the very first try.

You have a master’s degree on Jason Todd and all of his movements, small gestures and twitch of expressions that he doesn’t even realize that he’s doing, you know it all by heart. You know that when the right side of his smirk pulls slightly at his cheek as he’s admiring you doing something mundane, he’s going to kiss you. You know that when he flexes his hands at his sides something is bothering him. You know that he’s going to laugh loudly and wholeheartedly when the sound makes his shoulders shake slightly before making its way up his throat, as if he’s trying to contain it but the laugh is so strong and spontaneous that he can’t fight it. And you know he’s in pain from a bruise on his ribs when he shifts his weight on his feet and a grimace appears on his face for just a second.

That’s how you know that something’s up when you hear him climb through your living room window and his steps don’t sound as if he’s trying to not make too much noise in order to not wake you up in case that you’re asleep, but as if he's trying to make himself as small as possible. It’s a subtle difference but it’s there. You know it because you’ve encountered it before.

Your worry only increases when in the next four seconds that it takes you to find your bookmark between the sheets and place it in your book, you don’t hear him move at all. He doesn’t come find you and he doesn’t call your name.

When you exit the bedroom you find him in the middle of the living room. He just stands there, shoulders hunched, red helmet gripped tightly in hand, head looking down, his hair falling over his forehead.

Something has happened. You don’t know what it is but your first worry right now is making sure that he’s okay. If he heard you come into the room he doesn’t show it. You take a couple of small yet purposeful steps towards him, making sure that they can be heard so that you can alert him of your presence, not wanting to startle him.

But nothing. He stays frozen.

You take a deep breath as your heart clenches at seeing him like this. It’s bad. Whatever has happened is really, really bad and it seems like Jason’s mind is still there. He’s not fully present with you right now.

But you know what you have to do. You have to bring him back here with you. Help him to separate himself, your loving, wonderful, and kind Jason from the horrors that Red Hood has to face every day.

You take another step in his direction. “Jason?” you whisper softly.

He doesn’t react. But he doesn’t flinch either. That’s good. He knows he’s somewhere safe. But he still needs to distance himself from whatever was out there. You finally come to stand in front of him, still not touching him. “Jay?” you try again while assessing him over, trying to pinpoint if he’s injured.

Again, nothing. But the hair that hangs over his forehead moves ever so subtly, almost in an imperceptible way, but you catch it nonetheless. The hair moved because he tilted his head in the slightest of ways. He’s listening to you. Knows that you’re there. You sigh in relief when you see his grip on the helmet lessen too. Good signs.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?”

He releases a deep breath, slowly allowing himself to let go, the tension that his shoulders held not as tight as before. Leaving his body slightly, leaving him at your mercy. He’s saying, Okay. Satisfied at that and at finding that he doesn’t seem to have any major injuries, you nod. Then, you gently and very slowly take his face in your hands to look at him. His eyes acknowledge you for a split second but then his emerald gaze returns to the floor, and you feel a crack forming in your heart at the utter sadness, desperation, and despair that you find in it.

Still, you feel him melt into your touch at his cheeks. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re home,” you offer softly.

He closes his eyes in response, reveling in the comfort that you bring him. Next, you take the helmet from his hand and set it on the kitchen counter before moving to the holster with his guns and very carefully unfastening its belt and leaving it all on the table. Helping him that way to step out of the Red Hood persona and everything that claws into it.

“Let’s take a shower,” you say, wanting to keep him informed of your every move. You take his hand and pull him with you towards the bathroom. He lets you guide him, fully trusting you but still not reacting to anything much.

You don’t ask him what’s happened. You don’t need to know. There are things that Jason doesn’t tell you about patrol. And you have no problem with it, knowing that he wants to separate those two parts of his life. But no matter what it is, you always let him know that he can come to you about them, that you’ll listen. That you’ll always be there for him. Always.

The other few times that you have seen him come home like this, slouched over and not talking much, you later learn, either by context from what you hear on the news and the streets, or by Jason directly telling you about it when he needs to let go and finally feels able share it, that the people he was after got away, that someone got hurt, or something like that.

But this time… This time something’s different. You have never seen him as bad as this. At least not from coming back from patrol. And it worries you. It worries you a lot and it kills you that you can’t do anything more than just be there for him. But it seems that that’s all that he needs right now so you settle on focusing on him.

From the guiltiness that hangs over him, tensing his shoulders and keeping his eyes down, and the distress and sorrow that you see in his gaze, you have a feeling that something terrible happened. Something that he couldn’t prevent. He couldn’t save somebody.

You can almost see how he’s replaying it in his mind, the shame and regret swirling in his head until they stiff all of his body. You need to reassure him, make him see how it isn’t his fault, how he did everything he could, and how he gave his all but how sometimes, despite how much you fight it and try to stop it, Gotham doesn’t let you escape the rot that runs through its streets.

Once you two reach the bathroom, you flick on the mirror light above the sink, casting you two in a soft golden light, not wanting to overwhelm him with the overhead one and its strong intensity.

You stand in front of him and help him take off his jacket before taking his hands in yours. He still doesn’t look at you as you take off his gloves. Once they’re gone, you take a moment to examine his hands, and you let out a sigh of relief at seeing that his knuckles aren’t wounded. Your thumbs softly trace the marred skin, small scars and irregular healing adorning his hands. You can’t help but bring them to your lips and press a long kiss to them, closing your eyes, trying to will away all the mental scars that they hold too just by the touch of your lips.

His hands, that could break bones but also mend and heal the most broken parts of yourself.

Despite what those hands either curled into fists or holding a gun could mean to other people, they’re precious to you. And one of the many wonderful parts of him. To you, they mean soft caresses while you’re laying in bed. They mean warmth when winter comes and he rubs them against your arms. They mean comfort, and safety, as he holds your sobbing body when you break down.

Their roughness both from handling dangerous weapons and using a pan to make you dinner. Jason Todd has a duality that still amazes you to this day, but you love all the multitudes that he contains all the same.

You then begin to remove his equipment. The chest armor, the knee pads, and any other protective gear, putting it all on the pile that you started with his jacket and gloves on top of the laundry basket to sort out later. Jason doesn’t move, only doing the movement necessary to help you undress him, like lifting his feet so that you can slip his boots off after having unlaced them.

But still, his gaze remains lost.

You set the boots to the side and get back up to your feet again. You walk around him to get the tub started for a bath, adding some oils and soap. You pass by him to exit the bathroom and grab some comfortable clothes for him after. Most of the time, unless it’s very cold, he normally sleeps shirtless with some sweatpants or even just his underwear during the hotter months, but you know that tonight he needs to feel covered, enveloped, protected. You begin to plan in your mind. A comfortable old shirt and sweatpants will do.

However, before you can even reach the doorframe and begin your walk to the bedroom, a hand wraps gently around your wrist. You whip back around, both surprised and glad at the same time that Jason has finally interacted with you on his own accord, this being the first contact with the outside world initiated by him. Another good sign.

You see Jason’s eyes fixed on your wrist before lifting his gaze to lock with yours.

Stay.

Your gaze softens and you take another step closer to him, almost being chest to chest. You lift your free hand to caress his cheek. “Of course,” you whisper. “I’m just going to grab you some clothes, okay? It’ll be five seconds.”

As you assure him, without realizing it, your thumb traces his cheek in the exact same motion that he has begun to rub soft circles into your wrist. He nods slowly.

“Okay,” you say and Jason releases his hold on you just enough for you to quickly slip to the bedroom. And just like you promised, you’re back just as fast, closing the door behind you so that the steam from the tub can warm up the room, starting to fog up the mirror too, and setting the clothes on the counter. And Jason still hasn’t moved an inch.

You stand in front of him again and delicately grab the hem of his shirt before looking up at him. And you don’t need words to understand each other. Can I?

Jason’s chin tips slightly. Yeah.

You slowly lift the shirt up his body and he raises his arms to help you. Once off, you leave the shirt with the rest of his discarded clothes. Then, with your hands in front of you so that Jason can see what you’re doing and anticipate your movements, you rest them on his shoulders and then gently slide them down his chest, feeling his well-worked muscles and creases from the scars on his skin.

Jason lets out a deep breath, the skin to skin contact grounding him. His eyes never leave you now, following every single one of your actions. And not because he needs to see what you’re doing in order to prepare himself, not anymore, but because you’re the only thing that seems real right now. The only thing tethering him to Earth.

Because to him, you’re his center of gravity. No matter how far he went, both in distance and into the depths of his mind, he will always come back to you.

You lean forward and press a tender kiss between his pecs. Jason shudders, feeling warmth, comfort, and light blooming from the spot that you kissed and extending through all of his body, from his torso to the ends of his limbs. Your touch like the first rays of sunshine after the coldest and longest night of the year in a frozen landscape, melting the frost and bringing everything back to life. Chasing away the Gotham chill clinging to his bones and the rigidness that holds him hostage. Replacing it all with you, just you. The warmth and safety that you provide.

Jason thinks that he wasn’t actually brought back to life all those years ago, just went through some kind of purgatory on Earth again until he reached his very own personal heaven. You. And he still has no idea what he did to deserve it.

Then you help him out of his pants until he’s standing in his underwear in front of you. His back is hunched, making him lean towards you but this time it’s not because of all the negative thoughts hanging over him, but because of the pull that you have over him, your gravity drawing him in.

You round him again to check the temperature of the water in the tub, though this time, Jason rotates his body to follow you, like a sunflower chasing the sun. Satisfied with both the water’s temperature and quantity, you close the tap.

“You want me to get in with you?” you ask, not minding that you have already showered for the day. Jason nods.

You nod to yourself and peel the shirt of his that you wear to sleep off your body, leaving you just like him, wearing only your lower underwear. And even with how exposed you two are, you’re not vulnerable. The air in the room thick not only with humidity but with the intimacy between you two. A kind that can only come from honest love and a complete feeling of trust.

But the air isn’t humming with electricity like in the other situations in which you two find yourselves with as little clothing as right now. Instead, the air is lulling, like a soft and warm wave gently rocking your body when you lay with your eyes closed in the sea. Comforting and lightening.

You discard both your final pieces of clothing and step into the tub, holding a hand out to Jason so that he can step in in front of you. When he joins you, you two finally sink your bodies in the warm and bubble covered water. You lean back at the edge of the tub with Jason between your legs, his back pressed to your chest, his head resting on your shoulder and your arms draped over his chest, all of you surrounding him, enveloping him, protecting him.

Even though the tub is relatively big, considering Jason’s huge frame, it wasn’t exactly meant for two, so you’re a mess of tangled limbs and warm bodies, but you can already feel Jason relaxing against you. You kiss the crown of his head and he finally closes his eyes.

You two lay there for a while, enjoying the hot water and letting it wash your worries away, the scent from the lavender oil that you used hanging in the air, calming your minds. You’re glad to see how the bath is helping Jason to let go of the events of the night, the remaining tension that clung to his body stripped by the water, and the memories from the night relegated to another place as you see the crease on his brows disappear as you draw gentle caresses on his chest.

You grab the shampoo bottle and start to wash Jason’s hair, working the roots and massaging his scalp to help him relax even further. Soon, hundreds of tiny white bubbles replace the sight of his black locks. You work on his hair longer than necessary but you can see how much it’s helping him, his breathing becoming even more deeper and slower. The only sign that he hasn’t fallen asleep, the hand that settles on your knee at his side.

You then rinse his hair, his white streak majestically poking between the black again. With a sponge you start to wash his body where you can reach, his shoulders, his upper arms and torso. When you’re done you maneuver yourself to sit in front of him, facing each other now. As you start to wash the rest of his arms, you see in his eyes that his thoughts are beginning to slip away, the events of the night calling him again. But you’re not having it. Nothing is taking Jason away from you tonight. Your goal, making him focus on you and only you.

“Can I tell you a story?” you say softly, your voice and the soft splash of water at the slightest movement the only sounds in the room.

Jason just shrugs his shoulders slightly. You nod as you focus on passing the sponge over his hands.

“It’s the story of a boy and a girl. About a wonderful boy and a girl who couldn’t believe her luck,” you begin. “One freezing winter afternoon, the girl slipped on some ice and the guy caught her by the waist, saving her from a pretty hurtful fate, though she almost brought him down with her. She apologized profusely as her cheeks warmed not only because of the embarrassment but because the man who’d caught her was the most handsome one she’d ever seen. But in her haste to step back from the stranger to try and save some embarrassment, she slipped on the ice again and he saved her once again.”

Jason can’t help the small smile that pulls at his lips. Because the story that you’re telling isn’t just any story. It’s your story. The story of how you met.

He wonders how you always knew exactly what to say. Hell, you could just be reading the grocery list out loud and he’d think that you deserved a Nobel Prize in Literature just because it came from you.

The sight of Jason’s smile pulls your lips into one too, and it warms your heart just like his worried gaze had done to your cheeks that very first day.

Both of you remember that day as clear as day, though neither of you could have ever anticipated how important it would be, how it had changed the course of your lives. You can still perfectly recall how he had cleared his throat awkwardly after catching you for the second time and his You alright, miss? How breathy his voice had sounded, as if something had taken his breath away, his heavy lower Gotham accent that had both surprised you and stirred something within you, and how vivid the green in his eyes was.

Just as bright as it is now as you continue the story. The shine that was always there whenever he looked at you.

“She had been pretty awkward, and she still can't believe how she’d managed to pull the kindest and hottest man in all of Gotham, the world even.” Jason snorts and you throw him a look, telling him not to question you because if there is one universal truth in this world—apart from the fact that a single man in possession of good fortune, must be in want of a wife—is that Jason Todd is the kindest and most gorgeous man that you have ever met.

“Though later he would reveal that he had found her nothing but endearing, despite what she might say about her awkwardness,” you continue.

Something about you already drawing him in. But just as quick as it all had happened, the moment passed by, and you two went your separate ways. Though not for long, because some time later, another afternoon, you were walking home when a running figure turned the corner and clashed into you. As you took a couple steps back to stabilize yourself you realized that you were head to head with the Red Hood. Which was strange since the sun was still setting and he had never been seen other than at night.

Jason hadn't planned on starting patrol so early but Tim had tipped him that some guys that he was after were having a meet up and Jason decided to give them a little surprise. Though that plan flew out the metaphorical window in the room of his mind as soon as he saw you again.

He had tried to forget the encounter in which he had saved the most beautiful girl that he’d ever seen from tumbling to the ground, and just as it seemed like he was about to succeed (not really, but at least manage to push the encounter to the back of his mind instead of your soft voice plaguing his every waking moment), he ran into you.

He stared at you bewildered, not believing that it was you, the sweet girl from the ice, and he was at a loss for words.

“Sorry,” you had said and at the sound of your voice he finally came out of his daze and shook his head.

“No need, it was my fault." He tilted his head. “You okay, miss?” You nodded, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine at how similar he had sounded to your ice savior, his voice ingrained in your mind. And as much as Jason would have loved to stay there with you for a bit longer and hopefully learn your name, he had to get going, so he apologized again and you watched as he left.

And that should have been it. But somehow, it seemed like the universe had other ideas, crossing your paths later once again. And then one thing led to another and here you were now, sharing laundry and rent. Who would have thought? Certainly not you, when those strong arms caught you and you had no idea that they would become the place where you would feel the safest in.

Home.

Jason keeps listening as you finish recalling the start of your relationship. “And so their adventure together began. The clumsy girl from the ice and the boy that despite his rough exterior, had the gentlest, bravest, most selfless and most beautiful heart that she’d ever come to know.”

You finish the story with an enamored smile on your lips, the sweet memories fueling even more your love for him. A love and reassurance that you hope you have been able to convey in the story.

Jason sits in front of you with a small smile of his own, his heart beating golden light through his body, the love that you put there. His body finally relaxed and at peace, your hands holding his.

But then the smile falls from your lips as you see his eyes glass over. And even before he starts to tremble you pull him into you, wrapping your arms around him, his face hidden in your neck, his own arms snaking around you, holding you tight. And as the first tremors shake his shoulders, the first tears start to fall.

And you hold him through it. Taking everything that he needs to let go of in stride.

Because without the armor that he had built to keep his emotions at bay, swimming in the guilt and regret, once he finally relaxes, accepts that he’s safe and allows himself to be vulnerable, the dam breaks. And all the feelings come tumbling over.

The impotence. The sadness. The failure.

He’s not outright sobbing, the feelings working slowly but surely through him one by one. His body trembles slightly, a few tears falling onto your shoulder and a couple of sniffles here and there.

“I- I couldn’t-” He shakes his head and keeps silent once again. The first words that he’s said since he came home. The cracks in his broken voice forming ones in your heart. It stings more than salt in an open wound. You hold him as tight as you can. It’s like he needs to exteriorize these feelings and his body is allowing him to, but his voice can’t even go further than repeating that phrase over and over again. You shush him gently, letting him know that he doesn’t need to force himself to say anything. You’re here for him and that’s all that matters.

“It’s okay. You did everything you could, Jason. You’re a good man,” you whisper, trying to soothe the torture that he’s submitting himself to. But he shakes his head even more vehemently at your reassuring words and beautiful thoughts of him. Right now they don’t make any sense to him with how much he failed tonight. He’s not brave. He’s not kind. And he certainly isn’t good. He doesn’t know how you can say all of those things about him when he couldn’t-

You feel his internal monologue with how the time between his trembles, tears, and sniffles stretches. He’s lost in his head again. Thinking instead of feeling.

“Jason, hey, no. Stop,” you whisper gently but firmly. You unwind your arms from around him and take his head in your hands, holding his forehead to yours, looking into his eyes though his gaze avoids you.

“You are good. You’re kind, stubborn, funny, brave, determined, sarcastic, gentle, and loving. You’re all of those things. And sometimes things just go wrong and you can’t do anything to prevent them. You didn’t make any mistakes tonight, okay?” You don’t actually think that he can do anything wrong but you keep that to yourself. “Not being able to prevent something bad doesn’t make you any less of a good person.”

You can see how the thoughts race in his eyes.

“Jason. Look at me.” He finally locks eyes with you. “You know I’m not good at lying so listen to me when I say this. Whatever happened tonight is not your fault. You can cry. You should cry. You have to let go of everything that is storming inside you. What I’m not letting you do is convince yourself that you’re not good enough. Because you are, you hear me? You are.” You can’t help the tears that begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“I love you and I’m always going to be here for you for whatever you need, okay?” As a tear slips from your eye, Jason nods and hides in your neck again, letting his tears flow again. Letting himself feel. You envelop him in your arms once again.

“Okay,” he mutters against your skin. You sigh in relief and start to trace long shapes on his back.

You two stay there for a while, until both of you stop crying and his breathing returns to normal. And then you stay a little longer, just holding each other, Jason letting himself get lost in your soft skin and soothing scent, finally, finally, letting the night go. At least for now.

And then even a little longer, until the water turns lukewarm and a chill runs through your bodies.

“Want to go to bed?” you ask softly, threading your fingers through his hair, brushing away the damp strands falling on his forehead.

He nods slowly, lifting his head from your neck. “Thank you,” he whispers. You shake your head and he knows what you mean, You don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything for you.

“Come on,” you say and get up, offering him your hands. He takes them and gets up as well. You let the tub drain and step out of it, Jason following you. You quickly wrap Jason in a towel and then do the same with yourself. When you're done, he takes one of your hands gently and, while looking deep into your eyes, he kisses your knuckles. Thank you.

This time your gaze softens and you rest your hand against his heart. Of course.

After drying off you put your sleeping clothes back on and when you see Jason with the briefs that you brought already on and reaching towards the sweatpants, you gently swat his hand away. Let me take care of you.

He raises his hands in surrender and takes a step away from his clothes. Yes, ma’am.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need me to patch you up?” He doesn’t seem to have any injury but you want to make sure. He shakes his head. You arch an eyebrow. It wouldn’t be the first time that he’s tried to lie to you about that. He nods, extending his arms so that you can examine him, showing how he doesn’t have any wounds. You wait for a beat before nodding.

You help him get dressed and all the while his fond gaze follows you. He’s sure that the best feeling in the world is being taken care of by you. That sunshine feeling blooming again in his chest. You’re so bright and he’s just so- No. He’s promised that he isn’t going to think like that anymore. At least not more tonight.

He follows your directions as you make him sit on the toilet and watches as you comb his hair. But then he can’t help but close his eyes at how relaxed he feels under your care. When you’re done you kiss his forehead and he hums as you run your hand through his hair. When he opens his eyes again, you’re extending a hand to him and he takes it without hesitation.

You turn off the bathroom light and guide him to the bedroom. You climb into bed, your side always the furthest one from the door, no matter where you are, at home, at the manor, or traveling, Jason makes sure of that, and you open your arms, inviting him into your embrace. Jason gets into bed, laying half on top of you, and wraps his arms around your waist as he nuzzles into your neck, your legs tangled. You drape the covers over you both, practically burying yourselves under them and wrap your arms around him, protecting him from anything that could hurt him. Your very own cocoon.

He gives your waist a slight squeeze. I love you. You kiss his hair in return, hugging him even tighter.

And as you hold him tight, the two of you know that what happened tonight out there would still haunt Jason despite all your reassurances. But just as you know that, you also know that you’re always going to be there for him. To love him and care for him. So, for tonight, Jason lets himself be lulled to sleep by the sound of your heart. Each rhythmic thump thump telling him, I got you, you’re okay, I love you, over and over again.

Just like for you with him, your arms the place where he feels safest in. Home.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[literaila]

all I want for Christmas is knowing how the atf! Family as a whole spend Xmas together (or New Years, idc) and also how Gojo x reader celebrate it alone 👀

“no, satoru,” you say, for what is probably the thousandth time ever.

you should really start capitalizing on these moments. keep a tally and make him pay you for each mark he gets. each time you have to teach him how to listen.

you’d be richer than him by now, probably.

“but please.”

satoru is on the ground by your feet, literally. his giant head rests against your socks, hands clawing at your very elegantly themed nutcracker pajamas like he’s about to rip them. which, he definitely is.

it’s early enough that you don’t even scold him for it, but blink idly, wondering why you’re still up this early when the children are completely grown—to everyone’s utter dismay—and have never believed in the magic of christmas.

well, megumi, at least. tsumiki, the only person in the room who can’t see curses or use any sort of actual supernatural ability, believes wholeheartedly in all types of magic. it must be easy, considering that she’s a sort of magic all on her own.

megumi, who has been preparing for this moment, steps right over satoru and shrugs down next to you on the couch. he’s also wearing christmas pajamas, but only because you and tsumiki manipulated him into it for fifteen minutes the night prior.

tsumiki is sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table, smiling because she’s the only morning person in the house.

also because she’s probably the only one who got any sleep.

“get off,” you tell him, pulling at his hair. “you need to wait your turn.”

“noo,” he whines some more, shaking his head and probably getting snot all over your ankles. his morning voice is nonexistent because you know that he didn’t even attempt to go to bed. which is also why he’s throwing a temper tantrum.

“it’s youngest to oldest. you’re dead last, loser.”

satoru looks up at you, pouting.

you ignore him entirely, turning to megumi. “go ahead, kid.”

megumi sighs, picking at the box you set next to his spot. but before he opens it, he gives satoru a look. “i think she just called you old.”

tsumiki giggles, sipping on her hot chocolate.

satoru, who is now leaning against your legs, entirely too tall for anything, looks back at you, head in your lap, with mystified puppy-eyes. he’s completely outraged. “did you call me old?”

you raise a brow. “i said oldest,” you respond, but your tone claims otherwise, because satoru is getting pretty old.

“i am very youthful—“

“immature,” megumi says, under his breath.

“—and the only one with any decency around here.”

“you’re wearing a shirt that says ‘santa’s favorite ho,’” you deadpan, pulling at his hair some more.

tsumiki giggles again.

satoru shakes your hand away. “it was a gift!”

megumi snorts, finally pulling at the wrapping paper around his present.

you blink. “from yourself.”

“not like any of you were going to appreciate me,” satoru mumbles, crossing his arms. you kiss the top of his head in response, and he grabs ahold of your calf like it’s a hand.

“i got you the pants,” tsumiki says, smiling at him.

“and i’ll wear them until the day that i die,” satoru nods, giving you another pointed look. you just snort.

“what’d you get, megs?”

“it’s a mug that says ‘worlds greatest teacher,’” he hands it to you, brows furrowed, his voice is nonchalant.

“what? i didn’t get you—“

“megumi’s not a teacher,” satoru interrupts, easily enough. he plucks the mug right from your hands. “well, i guess ill take it off your hands since you have no use for it—“

“satoru.”

“what? santa must’ve made a mistake—“

tsumiki laughs into her mug, getting hot chocolate on her face, and pajamas, and another year has passed.

who ever said christmas was about gifts anyway?

the rest of the morning passes, new socks shoved into dressers, books left around the house. tsumiki gets yarn to knit with, and megumi gets gel for his hair—and some new underwear, courtesy of satoru.

christmas doesn’t have a lot of tradition for any of you. maybe it’s because you and gojo grew up without any meaningful holidays, or maybe it’s because tsumiki and megumi barely knew what christmas was before you and satoru were assimilated into their household.

but you spend december putting up lights, buying gag gifts and trying to teach satoru how to wrap a present for the sixth year in a row. none of it is ever the same, and none of it goes very well. lights are broken, trees fall, and no matter how many matching sets of pajamas you buy, one always seems to go missing by christmas eve.

still, everyone laughs together at all of the nonsense and maybe that’s the only tradition that matters.

*

it’s not until later that night that you and satoru are finally alone.

you’re laying in bed, book in hand, trying to purposefully ignore his side eyeing.

but, even after a decade of practice, satoru isn’t easily forgotten. his eyes are too bright, his presence too ingrained in your mind. it’s a curse really, and you shouldn’t welcome it.

but it’s about eleven years too late for that now.

so after ten minutes you sigh, shutting the book. “what?”

“what what?”

“satoru. stop staring at me like a crazy person and talk.”

“what would i have to talk about?” he asks, dazzling smile on his face. he leans over to you, entirely too close. and it’s not a moment later that he pulls a small box from his back, holding it out to you.

how it got there, you’re entirely unsure.

you frown at it for a moment, then groan. “we said no gifts.”

he frowns. “so i’m just supposed to get my wife nothing?”

“yes,” you grab it from his hands, roughly. “because that’s what we agreed on.”

“i don’t think you know me,” he says, almost mystified but entirely teasing

you eye him, lip twitching. then you push the present back into his hands, leaning over to your bedside table.

when you turn back it’s with your own meticulously wrapped present in hand. “i know you,” you whisper to him, handing it over.

“hey,” he says, not at all angry. “we agreed.”

“you’ve never agreed on anything.”

and satoru, as impatient as ever, doesn’t even bother to respond, or even argue back. he just pulls at the bow, ripping the box in two.

and hes already smudged the lens of the new glasses you got him. you begin laughing before he can even look.

“what is this?” he asks, tilting his head at it.

you giggle some more, looking as excited as a child, grabbing the glasses to hold them out towards him. “new glasses,” you say, simply, but your voice is high pitched and on edge. “look.”

satoru grabs them from you again, and looks at the side of the frame. “are these eyes?”

you cover your mouth with a hand and nod. the sides are ingrained with a terrible imitation of satoru’s own eyes, no amount of paint enough to capture the alien-ness of them. still, they’re blue and bright and entirely too hilarious.

he blinks at you, his lips pursed. “are there six of them?”

you hold back a snort and point. “only four. you’ve got two perfectly good ones on your head already.”

and then you burst into laughter, leaning over so you can giggle into the blankets.

satoru is scowling but his face is soft, and maybe he’s smiling at you in disbelief, or admiration. “these are awful,” he says, but puts them on anyway.

“i know!” you say, grinning at him, completely giddy.

he shakes his head, but his face is amused, and nudges his present towards you. “open.”

you’re still quietly laughing to yourself as you open the box, but your smile fades once you see what’s inside.

you pull out a music box, a deep blue with gold embellishments. it’s porcelain and if you drop it, it’d break. you breathe out, then whisper “isn’t this the one we saw at that—“

“at the art festival we went to in october. you said it looked like the one you had at home.”

you look up at him. satoru is still smiling, but when has he ever stopped? “when did you get it? i carried all the bags that day.”

“there was another festival in kanto a month later,” he tells you, pulling it from your hands so he can open it up. “i stopped after a mission to look.”

but before you can thank him, can say it’s beautiful, or wonder how long he thought about it, a tiny dancer pops out, and she’s holding a slip of paper.

“what’s…”

satoru, who can’t wait for anything, grabs it, unfolding it so you can read. but he tells you anyway. “plane tickets. for a trip sometime. us and the kids. i already talked to yaga about time off.”

“satoru—“

“and the higher ups, but that one took longer. they’ll be fine for a week or two.”

you look at him again, lips downturned. “my gift was so dumb.”

he laughs, leaning in so he can press his forehead to yours. “this is for all of us, so we’ll call it even,” he grins, though. “or you could give me a different gift. i have a couple of things in mind—“

you shake your head and crawl to him, pushing him back so you can trap him with your head on his chest. “you’re so dumb.”

he pulls you close and runs his stupid soft hands up from your shoulders to your neck. “i know.”

“i love you.”

“i know,” he answers, still smiling.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 112 (Spending Time With Family)

To mark Sportsball Sunday, River invited the Nesbitt-Gordons to Henford to watch the big game, but Heather was forced to stay behind in Brindleton Bay to work. (I was playing as the Nesbitts and invited the whole household over, but Heather never showed up!) Conrad was off duty and took Ash and Lavender to Heather's childhood home on his own - a big step considering how his past had been revealed before the holidays.

But this year's game wasn't that exciting, and the family was more content to spend time together - especially after they arrived in the midst of River extinguishing his own wife after a toilet fire! Time with family would always mean the most.

Though Cass was fine and the burns only on her clothing, Daisy remembered her fear after a similar incident left their youngest daughter, Hazel, with burn scars as a child. "We really need to replace that toilet, Neal."

He nodded in agreement. "You're right, love. It's time."

Lavender quickly found the upstairs stereo blasting Cassandra's favourite Latin music. "Auntie Cass dance?"

"I can teach you some moves," she offered warmly. "But only if you teach me your moves first."

Lavender loved sounds as much as she loved books, and she danced with her aunt to the music while Ash played with Michael in the yard.

(Lavender's 3 toddler quirks: Loves Sounds, Loves Books, and Destructive)

At halftime, River took Conrad outside. "I wanted to show you something, because I never would have come up with the idea if not for you. Remember when you suggested we try getting Mike to sleep by reading him The Giving Tree?"

"Of course. I'm glad it worked."

"We both fell in love with the story. And Henford has so many incredible old trees that can give us so much without ever being cut down like the tree in the book. Isle of Volpe Park needs a natural playground for people of all ages to enjoy or take shelter if it rains, and I think we should build a treehouse there."

"We?"

"Mayor Varner gave me planning permission, but he said the town can pay for the materials, not the labour. So I thought we could turn it into a campout and community building project at the beginning of spring, but I want you and Ash to be there, too...If you can get away from work."

"I'll talk to Heather, but it sounds like a great idea, Riv."

"Shut your stupid face, I'm not a lamp sim!" cried five-year-old Michael, racing into the house as Ash smirked in his wake.

"Then why's your ear plugged in?"

"Hey! What did you say to him?" Ash had never heard Conrad speak to him more sternly, and he turned back in surprise. Heather's family stood back quietly, refusing to intervene.

"He said he has a hearing aid, but he's not deaf. He doesn't even know SSL!"

"So? He doesn't need it. Not everyone who uses a hearing aid is deaf."

"Well, it looks funny."

"Ash, I want you to apologize to your cousin for being rude."

"He's a jerk, I don't want to!"

"So he said something that made you mad, and you made fun of his hearing aid in retaliation? Even though you're older and more mature than him, and you know better?"

Ash was quiet. "...I'll apologize."

Conrad nodded. "And you better get used to hanging out with your cousin. As long as your mom agrees, you and me are going camping in Isle of Volpe Park with your Uncle River and cousin Michael in the spring to help build a treehouse."

Ash's eyes lit up. "A treehouse? I'll go camping with just you? No mommy, no Lavender?"

"This will be a boys weekend," said his Uncle River. "Just camping in the national park and building a treehouse together."

Ash's grandfather, Neal, joined them outside in his outerwear after a quick run through Finchwick. "And when it's done, you can play in the treehouse, too - but not if you're going to be mean to your cousin. I'll make you stay at the house pulling up weeds with your grandmother and me."

Ash went inside to apologize, and Neal studied Conrad closely. "You're good with him," he noted with a smile. "He respects you. Keep that up. He needs your influence."

"I'm surprised you'd say that after finding out I kept my past from everyone. And we still haven't solved the case."

"But since then, my family still sleeps soundly in their beds at night. I know I don't have to tell you how important it is to put all of this behind you, but you're a good man. We all know you're trying."

Conrad returned home that night with the kids, grateful he'd had a chance to clear the air with his future father-in-law. But Heather was dismayed when he reported how Ash had treated his cousin. She took away his TV privileges for a week, and Conrad spoke to Ash again over a game of chess.

"You don't know this about me, but when I was younger, I used hearing aids until I was big enough to have surgery to repair my inner ears. My hearing was a lot worse than Michael's, but I wasn't deaf."

"I saw a picture of you with Daddy when you were kids, and you weren't wearing anything on your ears except glasses."

He nodded. "I didn't like to wear them all the time because people made fun of me. But when I didn't wear them it was always harder on me than it was on anybody else."

Ash considered this. "I shouldn't have told Michael he was a lamp sim," he admitted. Though he'd apologized already, only now did he truly understand why.

"You don't want to go through life being a bully," Conrad assured him. "People don't like bullies. You're a great kid, and I care about you just as much as I care about your sister, but if someone makes you feel bad, you don't have to make them feel bad in return. Talk about it with your mom and me, instead, because we want to make sure you always know how much we love you."

Ash smiled. "I love you, too, Conrad."

Heather was proud of the way Conrad had handled Ash's behaviour, and not least because River texted about Neal's approval before Conrad and the kids had returned to Brindleton Bay.

But her swooning pride was interrupted by a knock at the door, and she was shocked to see Hazel standing before her with a suitcase.

"Can I stay with you a while? I quit my job and Nicola divorced me. Just like that. She walked into the courthouse and ended it like we haven't been together for almost a decade."

"What do you mean she divorced you? And why did you quit your job?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Have you got three days? That might be how long it takes me to tell the story."

"Well, Dandelion, you can stay here as long as you need. So if it'll take three days to find out what happened, you better get started." ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

Stretching Hazel and Nicola's story over three days allowed me to push some other parts of the story to after the (real life) holidays, which I liked, and it kept Hazel and Nicola's post from being too long for a one-off. So Hazel and Nicola's Cozy Celebrations will start tomorrow but still finish up on Christmas Eve, and the Nesbitt-Gordons will be back in focus on December 26th when the family volunteers at a soup kitchen.

[voikiraz]

— In 𐔌 𝓜y ͡꒱ eyes [ l.hs ]

Lovers . Bf!heeseung x fem!reader ⠀𝑤. Petnames, skinship, that's it i think step ? #885 M.recordings [ if this feels rushed or forced pls tell me, again this is part of @cupidhoons series ahhh, I can't believe I actually got both done, but hope you like it >< ]

Syn. Four times heeseung marked your moment as the most special and decided he wants to keep you next to him forever.

This is so silly but i think heeseung would have a photo binder full of polaroids of you, pictures of you guys on dates, his friends and family etc. And he definitely has one in his wallet too ( I'm indulging in lover ; heeseung )

𝑜𝑛𝑒

It was a random date night, but considering that you haven't had some time for yourselves in a while, it hit you differently, and you sure missed him, it was a day that you appreciated more each second the more you think about it.

Knowing that he put so much effort in taking you out every week even though you knew his days were jam packed.

“Thank you hee, I missed going out with you, I was starting to experience withdrawals” you say, twirling around the glass containing your drink while you waited for the food.

“Anything for you baby, plus you deserve it” he said, holding your hand and the night continued on, talking about your weeks and sharing each other's food (or stealing it ).

And by the end of the day, he had to pull out his polaroid camera, he genuinely had it with him all the time.

It was his way of keeping the moment with him for as long as he could.

He asked one of the waiters to take a picture of you two, and you displayed the bouquet of flowers he got you this morning, white and pure like the love he provides you.

𝑡𝑤𝑜

You were very tempted to ignore your friends and go back to sleep, why would they wake you up before sunrise just so you can enjoy the good weather?

But they drove a hard bargain the moment they told you heeseung was coming too, who were you to decline spending time with your boyfriend.

You got up and started getting ready at a speed that made your friends scoff at you at how fast you changed your mind.

As you walked around the empty streets near the river, all you could focus on was him, making you earn a few ( fake ) disappointed sighs from your friends, declaring that they hate couples ( even though they're your biggest supporters ).

The group stopped somewhere to decide where they should have breakfast before moving any further, forgetting the two love birds somewhere on the other side of the road.

And they stood there, sickeningly staring at each other as if they weren't capable of ever looking away.

And when heeseung decided that you look way too pretty to not snap a picture, he pulled out his camera, and so did jake, he thought this was the perfect moment to capture your intense love for each other.

“You're so gorgeous, my love” Jake heard heeseungs voice mumble those few words out and he wished he minded his own business.

“Okay enough please, never do that infront of us again” Jake complained in a whiney voice, brushing you off and walking further.

𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒

On a warm night, when your boyfriend decided that it's the perfect weather for a sleepover and some hot chocolate, the last thing you expected to do is let said boyfriend drag you out in the cold.

“Y/n come on there's shooting stars outside.” He said almost in a whiny voice, wearing his heavy jacket and waiting for you by the door.

You were contemplating, did you really want to get out from under the comfortable blankets to go see shooting stars?

Well, If he was asking so nicely, how cruel would you be if you denied him such a request?

“Fine, give me a second.” You said, running up the stairs to go get your jacket then beelining towards where he stood once more.

He threw a giddy smile on his face and a light kiss on your cheeks, one that appears with a chuu sound paired with it, making you giggle.

He pulled your wrist and in a second you were outside, enjoying the snow and the shooting stars, the cold breeze contrasting the warm toned living room that you were buried in a second before.

“Omg we should take a picture, come here” he pulled you close to him, holding the camera up and hiding his face in the warmth of his jacket.

‘Click’

“It's so pretty,” he said in awe, then looked at you in a swift motion “not as pretty as you though.” He paired his flirty line with a wink.

𝑓𝑜𝑢𝑟

It was finally new years night, and you were excitedly waiting for the countdown to start, waiting for heeseung to claim you as his new years kiss.

And he delivered with no hesitation, making it feel like it'll never be the last time.

He gave you the world and more. And you were forever grateful for him, the way you could picture yourself living with him for as long as you'll breathe. Safe like you've never been before.

You love Lee Heeseung, and you dont remember what it feels like not to.

“Pose for the camera love birds,” you heard Giselle call for you two and you happily obliged, taking a few pictures on her phone, ( that she'll probably never send to you ).

But of course, you had to take your special polaroid picture with the person you'll want to engrave in your ribs forever.

© voikiraz 2O24

[ikkyfics]

Night Flight

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: "I… I don't know how you can be so confident about this," you murmured, still feeling the warmth of his touch on your skin. "Because it's the truth," James replied without hesitation, his voice steady and full of sincerity. "When you love someone, you know. There are no doubts, no room for uncertainty. It's like… well, like knowing the sky is blue or that you look ridiculously beautiful with windblown hair."

Warnings: just fluffy - a James breaking some rules to spend time with you

Masterlist

The castle was submerged in silence, illuminated only by the soft light of the moon that filtered through the tall windows. The corridors, usually full of voices and hurried footsteps, were now empty, and the only company was the shadows dancing on the walls. You weren’t quite sure how James had convinced you, but there you were, walking beside him, hidden under the invisibility cloak.

He held your hand under the enchanted fabric, his fingers warm and firm around yours. The mischievous smile he wore as he confidently walked through the castle made you roll your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help the small smile that played at your lips. James had that effect on you — he was pure energy, carefree and full of life, a complete contrast to your more reserved personality. Yet, there was something about him that made you feel lighter, as if the world around you simply disappeared.

"We're almost there," he whispered, leaning slightly toward you. The warmth of his body beside yours was comforting, and the way he made everything sound like a grand adventure made your heart race a little faster.

"Aren’t you going to tell me what we’re doing?" you asked, keeping your voice low. Despite the cloak, you could feel the adrenaline of being out of the dorm after curfew.

"It’ll ruin the surprise," he replied, a playful gleam in his voice. You could see him raise his index finger theatrically, even under the cloak. "But I can guarantee it’ll be worth it. Trust me."

"I don’t know if I should," you teased, trying to sound firm, but the light tone in your voice gave away that, in reality, you trusted him more than anyone.

James chuckled softly, and you felt the gentle pressure of his hand on yours, as if he were reaffirming that silent connection between you. Finally, you reached the door of the Astronomy Tower. He carefully took off the cloak, revealing the satisfied smile you knew so well, and his blue eyes, vibrant, were shining like the starry sky outside.

"You really love breaking the rules, don’t you?" you asked, crossing your arms, but you couldn’t quite hide the laugh that escaped.

"It’s not just about the rules," he replied, stepping closer to you. His hair, always rebellious, was even more disheveled from the rush, and you had to fight the impulse to fix it. "It’s for you. I want to take you somewhere where you can feel... free. Without all that stuff in your head that makes you doubt yourself."

Your smile faded a little, and you looked away, already feeling the familiar wave of insecurity start to rise. James noticed, of course, he always noticed.

"Hey," he called softly, leaning in until your eyes met his again. "I don’t want you to think about any of that right now. I just want you to be with me, here, now. Can you do that for me?"

You nodded, feeling the warmth of his hands sliding down to your arms, and he smiled, this time more gently. "Great, because I brought my broom." He stepped aside, revealing the object that had been leaning against the wall.

"You’re kidding," you said, your voice a mix of laughter and disbelief.

"No way." He picked up the broom and lovingly ran his fingers over the polished wood, as if it were a trophy. "Come on, it’s just a little ride. I promise you’ll love it."

"James..." you started, but he was already mounting the broom and reaching out for your hand. His smile was a blend of excitement and tenderness, and there was something in his eyes that made you forget any reluctance.

With a sigh, you took his hand and let him help you onto the broom. The warmth of his body against your back was immediate, and he adjusted his arms around you to grip the broomstick firmly.

"Comfortable?" he asked, his voice low near your ear. You simply murmured a "yes," feeling your cheeks burn.

"Great," he said, and before you could process, he gave a push, and you were flying.

The night air was cold but not uncomfortable, and the sense of freedom that came with flying left you speechless. The castle soon disappeared behind you, and all that was left was the open sky and the stars shining above. You instinctively held onto James's arms, and he chuckled softly.

"You don’t have to be scared," he said, his voice full of tenderness. "I’d never let anything happen to you."

"I'm not scared," you replied, even though your grip on his arms betrayed the opposite.

"Oh, of course not," he teased, leaning slightly to the left, just enough to make you cling even tighter. "See? You're completely at ease."

"James!" you exclaimed, half laughing, half annoyed, and he just laughed along, returning to his usual balance.

After a few minutes of flying, he stopped over a moonlit clearing. You hovered there in silence, while the world seemed so small beneath you. He rested his chin on your shoulder for a moment, and you felt the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"I can't imagine anyone I'd rather have here with me than you," he murmured, his voice low and full of emotion.

You turned your face slightly, meeting his eyes, and the smile he gave you was so sincere it made your heart melt. He leaned in slowly, and his lips met yours in a soft kiss, as gentle as the wind around you.

When he pulled away, still close enough for you to feel his breath, he smiled again. "You mean everything to me, you know that, right?"

You stayed silent for a moment, trying to organize your thoughts and process what he had just said. It was as if his words were made to pierce your heart directly, dissolving any doubt that might still linger in your mind. His blue eyes shone brightly, full of something deeper than usual affection—an unwavering devotion that made your chest tighten with emotion.

"I… I don't know how you can be so confident about this," you murmured, still feeling the warmth of his touch on your skin.

"Because it's the truth," James replied without hesitation, his voice steady and full of sincerity. "When you love someone, you know. There are no doubts, no room for uncertainty. It's like… well, like knowing the sky is blue or that you look ridiculously beautiful with windblown hair."

The last part was said with a playful grin, his eyes scanning your face with adoration. He tilted his head slightly, as if waiting for a response, but you just shook your head, feeling your cheeks begin to warm.

"You never get tired of making me blush, do you?" you murmured, avoiding his gaze for a moment, but James, ever attentive, raised a hand to gently hold your chin, guiding your gaze back to his.

"Not at all," he said, the playful tone softening. "I love seeing you blush. It's like watching the most beautiful sunset in the world. And it's my fault, which just makes it even better."

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, and he took the opportunity to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose, followed by another on the corner of your lips, before whispering against your skin, "By the way, you look even more beautiful when you laugh."

"Do you have any idea how impossible you are?" you asked, but your voice was already far from any irritation. It was soft, with a touch of affection that James didn't miss.

"Impossible?" He feigned offense, his eyes sparkling with mock disbelief. "I'm a Potter. Impossible is my middle name, but no one's ever complained before."

You let out a full laugh this time, shaking your head in surrender. But then, with a sudden courage you didn't know where it came from, you leaned in slightly and whispered, "But you know what I think is most beautiful about you?"

James blinked, surprised by your change in tone. "What?" he asked, genuinely curious, his blue eyes fixed on yours.

"When you turn red," you replied, smiling as your fingers traced lightly along his jawline. "It's like, for a moment, you're a little vulnerable too."

The flush that rose to his cheeks was instant, and you found yourself amazed by how adorable he looked in that moment. His eyes blinked a few times, and he tried to hide it, but the shy smile that appeared on his lips gave it all away.

"Oh, so that's it," he murmured, his voice a little lower, but still with that playful tone. "You like seeing me like that, huh? Who would’ve thought my girl knows how to fight back?"

"Maybe," you said, leaning in closer. "But it's nice to know I can make you blush too."

James laughed, but this time it was a softer laugh, filled with something deeper. He rested his forehead against yours, his unruly hair brushing lightly against your skin. "You have no idea how much I'm yours, do you?"

Before you could answer, he kissed you again, this time with more firmness, but still with the same sweetness as before. It was a kiss that spoke everything he might not have found words for yet—a reminder that, to him, you were more than enough.

When he pulled away just enough to look at you again, the smile that lit up his face was pure and genuine. "Now, how about we take one more round? I want to see if I can make you laugh a little more before we go back to the castle."

You smiled, feeling all your insecurities melt away under the intensity of James' affection. And as he adjusted his arms around you again, ready to send the broom back into the starry sky, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you were starting to believe that with him, you would always be enough.

[thesparkling-diamond27]

My Snowflake❄️

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: You and your boyfriend spend a fun day in the snow

A/n: This isn’t really a Christmas story, but it can be if you want it to be. This is a continuation of “Meet me under the mistletoe”, but you don’t have to read it to understand, the plot is explained, so prior knowledge isn’t necessary. I hope you enjoy!

Fiyero and I were both currently on my bed. My back was leaning against the headboard and Fiyero’s head was in my lap. Acasionally I would run my fingers through his hair whenever I turned the page.

“How much longer.” Fiyero whined from his spot on the bed.

“Not much longer.” I counted how many pages I had left until the end of the chapter, “I have about 5 pages left.”

Fiyero pouted and I kissed his lips.

“Just a little while longer love I promise.” I said.

Fiyero nodded in defeat before he started to play with one of my hands.

I read a couple more pages before Fiyero said, “Hey look it’s snowing.”

I looked away from my book and out the balcony doors and sure enough it was snowing.

“It is snowing. It’s beautiful.”

It really was a beautiful sight and it was the first snowfall of the year. Fiyero rose from his spot from my lap and walked over to the balcony doors. He looked out at the ground below before a huge smile spread across his face.

“Do you know what we should do?” Fiyero asked as he turned around to face me.

“What?” I asked.

“We should play in the snow?” He said with a smile, but I looked at him confused.

“You want to play in the snow?”

“Yeah it’s fun. Didn’t you do that as a kid?”

I shook my head and that caused Fiyero to immediately rush to my side and sit in front of me on my bed. He gave a look like I just told him that somebody died.

“You’re telling me that you’ve never played in the snow? You never built a snowman, made snow angels, went sledding, or had a snowball fight?”

“No I don’t think so. I lived in the Emerald city where there are a bunch of buildings. There’s no room to do any of that stuff.”

“Well we’re going to change that.”

Fiyero grabbed my book out of my hand and placed it on his nightstand, making sure to place the bookmark where I left off. He grabbed my coat from the coat rack and he held it up for me.

I stood from my bed and I allowed Fiyero to place my coat on me. I put a hat, scarf and gloves on as Fiyero did the same. When we were both suited up we both walked out of my room hand in hand.

On the way to the open field, I couldn’t help, but stare at Fiyero. He was extremely giddy as he began to list all the activities we could do in the snow and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning. It made me smile. Eventually we made it to the open feild.

“There’s enough snow for us to make a snowman. Do you want to start with that?” Fiyero asked.

“I don’t even know where to start so I guess we can.” I said with an excited grin.

Fiyero grinned back and then he led me to a patch of snow.

“Okay well first we have to gather a bunch of snow and compact it into a small ball.” Fiyero demonstrated as he explained. He gathered a bunch of snow and compacted it into a small ball.

Then little by little he added more snow to the small ball of snow and compacted it together. He continued to compact the ball with more snow until he created a small boulder sized ball of snow.

Fiyero stood up and created a tada pose, “Tada! The perfect base for a snowman. Now we just have to do it again, but on top of this one.”

I nodded and together the two of us started to assemble another ball of snow. I carefully watched Fiyero first, before I jumped in and began to help and in no time we had the middle section of the snowman.

Finally we moved on to the last ball of snow, the head, and when we were finished we took a step back and admired our snow sculpture.

“It’s beautiful.” I said.

“Yes it is darling, but it’s not done yet. Now we have to add the face and arms, and the three buttons.”

After Fiyero’s words I wasted no time in looking for sticks for arms. I don’t know what came over me, but all of a sudden I felt happy and giddy. I’ve never built a snowman before and I felt like a kid again.

As I crouched down to the ground to look for a decent sized stick, I didn’t realized Fiyero who was staring at me with a smile on his face.

I found two good sized sticks and I quickly ran over to Fiyero.

“Are these good sticks for arms?” I asked.

Fiyero looked down at the sticks in my hands.

“They’re perfect angel.” He said before he kissed the top of my head. “Put them on the snowman.”

I walked over to the snowman and I carefully stuck the sticks into the sides of the middle snow boulder. I took a few steps back and stood next to Fiyero.

“Now we need to make the face.”

Fiyero said.

He began to search for some pieces for the face and I went and did the same. I found two stones that looked similar enough to be eyes and I walked over to the snowman.

I saw Fiyero placing objects on the snowman’s face. He stepped back and the snowman had a big wide smile and three buttons going down in a line on the middle section. I giggled as I placed the two stones where the snowman’s eyes would be. I took a step back and inspected our work.

“Don’t snowmen have a carrot for a nose?” I asked.

“They do, but since we don’t have any, we’ll have to improvise.”

Fiyero walked up to the snowman and began to draw on his face. He walked back to me and I got a good look at the nose he drew.

It was a good looking nose, but it didn’t look too good on the snowman. I immediately burst into laughter.

“What? Why are you laughing.” But Fiyero was laughing himself.

“That nose looks so weird on the snowman.” I said through laughs.

“Well at least our snowman has a nose!”

My laughter finally died down.

“I suppose so.”

“Well I guess our snowman is complete.” Fiyero stated.

I looked back at the snowman and felt like it was missing something. Then an idea popped into my head. I took my scarf off and I wrapped it between the second and third boulder where the snowman’s shoulders would be.

“Now our snowman is complete.” I said. Fiyero chuckled before he placed a kiss on my lips.

“Now our snowman is complete.”

“Now what?” I asked.

“Well…” Fiyero had a mischievous look on his face and now I was afraid of what he was going to do. Word of advice. If you ever see a mischievous look on Fiyero’s face run before it’s too late.

However, it was too late for me because when I started to make a run for it he threw a snowball at the back of my head. I felt immediate cold as the snow hit my neck and went down my coat. I knew I’ll definitely be cold as soon as the snow melts.

I slowly turned around and saw Fiyero hunched over due to him laughing too hard. Oh so you want to play that game huh I thought. I grabbed a handfull of snow and began to compact it into a small ball.

As the snow molded into my hand I felt it getting firmer, opposite from the fluffy feeling the snow once had before.

Fiyero was too busy laughing, so I used this as my opportunity to pull the snowball back and throw it in the air. The snowball flew through the air in an arc shape, like a rainbow, before it hit Fiyero nice and hard right in the face.

Now I was one hunched over in laughter as I looked at Fiyero’s face that was now covered in snow. Fiyero had a grin on his face. Something that I wasn’t expecting to see.

“Oh it’s on!” Fiyero said before he began to gather some snow to make another snowball. I quickly did the same thing and me and Fiyero started a snowball fight. My first snowball fight.

We hit snowballs at each other to and fro. I hit Fiyero with my snowballs and he did the same. I even managed to dodge a few and I was pretty proud of myself for doing so.

I was now currently hiding behind the snowman we built, while I waited for Fiyero to make his next move.

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Fiyero stated from the other side of the snowman and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“What’s the easy way?” I asked.

“You step out from behind the snowman and I hit you with the snowball in my hand.”

I laughed at his idea of the “easy way”. Yeah it was an easy way for him to beat me, but I wasn’t going to make it easy for him. If I was going to loose, I wasn’t going to go without a fight.

“I think I’ll take the hard way then.” I said.

“Hard way it is.” Fiyero chuckled.

I waited to see what he meant by the “hard way”, but my question was soon answered when something penetrated the snowman and the top half of the snowman fell on top of me. Now I was completely covered in snow.

I screamed with annoyance, but I couldn’t help, but laugh at the same time. Although I lost, and now completely covered in snow, I was having fun. I was having lots of fun.

“Okay you got me.” I said through laughter. “But can I hit you just once and you let me?”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because you love me and since I lost, the least you can do is let me hit you.”

Fiyero looked at me and I gave him my best pout.

“Fine, but only one snowball.”

“That’s all I’m asking.” I said as I began to gather some snow to make snowball. I fully compacted the snow into a ball and I looked up at Fiyero who was standing in a starfish position.

“I’m assuming you’re ready.” I said with laughter.

Fiyero nodded with a smile. I pulled back the snowball before I let it sore through the air and hit him right in the chest. He was pushed back by the force of my throw and fell face first into the snow.

I began to laugh at his fall, but I soon stoped when he laid motionless on the ground. I quickly ran to Fiyero and I quickly threw myself on the ground next to his body. His shoulders were shaking and I could only assume he was crying.

Oh Oz! I just injured my boyfriend.

I grabbed his shoulders and turned him around and my fear turned into relief when I realized that his shoulders were shaking because he was laughing. My relief turned into anger and I slapped his chest after realizing that he was faking.

“Why would you do that! I thought I hurt you!” I shouted.

“It was funny.” He said as he laughed from his spot on the ground.

I hit his chest again, but before I pulled away he pulled me onto his chest. The momentum of his pull caused me to roll over and Fiyero and I began to roll in the snow in each other’s arm.

Laughter left both of our mouths until we made a complete stop. We stopped with Fiyero on top of me and he softly smiled at me before he kissed my lips. I melted into it and I put my hands on the side of his face.

His lips were cold as ice, but his kiss made me feel warm and I felt cold and warm at the and time. After a while Fiyero pulled away and he laid down next to me on the ground. He slowly inched his hand towards mine and he laced our hands together.

I looked at his face next to mine and smiled and he smiled back. Then I looked up at the night sky. The stars were shining extra brightly tonight and I could see the constellations. I smiled when I noticed my favorite constellation.

“Do you see that line of stars there and the two lines that branch out from it?” I asked as I pointed at the constellation in the sky.

Fiyero squinted his eyes and with a little guidance he was able to see the constellation I was talking about.

“That’s the Gemini constellation. Also known as the twins. It’s my favorite constellation.”

“Is it because you’re a Gemini? Fiyero asked.

(A/n: it could be any zodiac constellation if you would like it to be. I just chose Gemini because that’s my zodiac sign)

I nodded.

“My mother and I would go to the roof of our apartment building, lay down on a blanket, and look up at the stars. She taught me all the different constellations in the sky. It’s been a while since I looked at the stars, since I’m here at Shiz now.”

Fiyero said nothing, so I turned to look at him and he was already looking at me.

“Well if you want, the two of us can look at the starts together more often. Since you can’t look at them much with your mom anymore because you’re here.”

“Really?”

“Really. If you love to do it. Then I love to do it.”

I smiled at his words.

“I love you.” I said.

“I love you too.”

We smiled at each other before we both looked up at the sky. We both sat in silence in the cold and in the snow. I’m sure that tomorrow morning we would probably be sick in bed.

“So we built a snowman, which is now destroyed, and had a snowball fight, so now what?” I asked.

Fiyrero thought for a moment before saying, “Since we’re both already on the ground, why don’t we make snow angels!”

“How do we do that?” I asked.

“Your little knowledge of playing in the snow makes me so sad.”

“I guess these fun activities are a Winkie Country tradition.” I said.

“I guess so. Just like how the mistletoe is a tradition from the Emerald City.”

I nodded.

“You must have thought I was so stupid for not knowing the purpose of hung mistletoe.”

“I didn’t think you were stupid. I just thought you weren’t getting any of my hints!”

“Well I wasn’t, but not in the way that you thought.”

I giggled thinking about when Fiyero was confused with why I was so “obsessed” with mistletoe for a week. Only for me to come and find out that he didn’t know that mistletoe was meant for kissing.

“Well you know now.” I said.

“Yeah I do.”

Then I realized we got sidetracked.

“Snow angels.”

“Right.” Fiyero said. He scooched away from me a little bit, so that we both could have enough room to make a snow angel.

“Now you lay on the grand in a star position like this.” Fiyero said as he laid in the snow like a starfish. Just like how he was earlier except he was now laying on the ground.

“Then you move your arms and legs like this.” He started to move his arms up and down and his legs side to side.

After looking at what Fiyero was doing, I copied his actions and after a while Fiyero and I stood up to look at our snow angels. I looked down at them and they in fact looked liked angels in the snow.

“They do look like angels!” I said.

Fiyero chuckled at my excitement and nodded.

“I want to make another one!” I said. I walked over to a clear patch of snow and laid down to make another one. Fiyero laughed at my antics before he joined me in the snow.

We made about a dozen more snow angels, 6 each, and now we looked down at our garden of snow angels.

“What a masterpiece.” I said.

“An all over the place masterpiece, but still a masterpiece nonetheless.”

I lightly punched him in the ribs and he lightly pushed me in return.

“Does this commence our day of playing in the snow?” I asked.

“I would say no, but I don’t have a sled for us to slide down on, so I guess our day in the snow has come to an end.”

I pouted and Fiyero brought me into his arms.

“We could play again in the snow tomorrow snowflake.”

“Snowflake?” I looked at him curiously.

“Well we just finished a pretty fun day in the snow and I want to commemorate the day somehow. Snow doesn’t sound right, and I already call you angel (snow angel), so snowflake is the only choice. It’s snow and it describes you. Graceful, and delicate, but strong at the same time.”

I smiled at his explanation. “I love it.”

“Good because you’re my snowflake.”

Fiyero brushed his nose against mine and rested his forehead on my forehead. I didn’t want this moment to end, but I pulled away.

“I love this moment and all, but I’m freezing.” I said with chattered teeth.

“Let’s get you inside then.” He brought his arm over my shoulder and began to guide me back to the dorm, but I stopped him.

“Wait can we build the snowman once again?”

Fiyero looked back at the snowman and then back at me. My nose and cheeks were probably a crimson red and my lips chapped, which is probably why Fiyero had a conflicted look on his face. However, he could never say no to my pleading and the two of us began to rebuild the snowman.

About half of the snowman was destroyed, so we had to build the top part of the second snow boulder and then the head. When we finished again, we looked at our snowman one more time before we left to go back into the dorm.

We arrived back to my dorm and I shivered as I took off my coat.

“I’m going to take a shower just to warm up.” I said.

“Okay take your time.” Fiyero said with a smile.

I smiled back and then retreated to my roommate and I’s shared bathroom. I took my time with washing my hair, and then scrubbing off all the snow that I acquired (mainly from Fiyero).

Once I was done, I was all toasty and warm and I got dressed in the bathroom, before walking into my room to see Fiyero laying on my bed.

“Took you long enough. My shower was quick and easy. I’ve aged 30 years waiting for you to be done.” Fiyero said.

“I wanted to warm up, because someone thought it would be a good idea to dump a bunch of snow on me with their snowball.”

“Hey don’t hate the player hate the game.” Fiyero said with a smirk.

I laughed at his words, but I still chucked him in the face with one of my pillows, which caused him to laugh. I climbed into my bed and found my usual spot in Fiyero’s arms. He began to play with my hair, something he usually did.

“Thank you.” I said.

“For what?”

“For making me feel like a kid again.”

“Well in that case, you’re welcome snowflake.” He kissed the top of my head.

“That nickname is going to stick isn’t it? No pun intended.”

Fiyero laughed. “I’m afraid it will darling.” And then he brought me into a sweet and gentle kiss.

…

The next morning, I woke up and something felt off. I felt something in my throat, so I coughed a wet cough before I sneezed. Well I guess my predictions last night were right. I did get sick I thought.

I look over at Fiyero who was still snoozing with his arm around my waist. I slowly lifted his arm off of me, careful not to wake him, and I made my way to the balcony doors.

I looked down below and saw the snowman that Fiyero and I built. It was still standing in the frigid cold and that brought a smile to my face. I wonder how long it would last. A couple days maybe? A week? I smiled at the thought.

Playing in the snow was something I would never forget and it’s all thanks to Fiyero. I know for certain that playing in the snow will be something the both of us will do more often.

I heard a series of coughs and I turned around to see Fiyero sitting up in bed. He wiped at his eyes and he honestly looked awful, but he still looked handsome in my eyes. He probably was sick like me.

I cleared my throat before I said, “Hello love how are you feeling?” I walked back to my bed.

“Awful.”

I laughed before I climbed back into bed.

“Me too, but we have all day to do nothing in bed.”

“Sounds like a perfect day.”

And before I knew it Fiyero had pulled me back into bed and shortly after we both fell back asleep in each other’s arms

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Overdraft Fee

(Because it comes after Withdrawals) The Pros Masterlist || ITWS Masterlist || Pro/Vic Masterlist CW: drug addiction/withdrawls, vomiting, hallucinations

Fletcher eased the door open and peered in at Tommy. He was pale and sweaty, squirming in discomfort on top of the bedsheets.

“Hey,” Fletcher shut the door behind them. “How are you doing?”

Tommy’s eyes snapped open to glare at Fletcher, but he held his tongue.

“Drink more water,” Fletcher said, nodding to the still mostly full bottle on his bedside table. “You don't need to ration it. It’ll help with the aches.”

“It’ll help with the aches?” Tommy repeated scornfully. “I can think of something that would help more.”

Fletcher put their hands on their hips. “Okay, I understand that you’re going through it right now, so-”

“You don't understand what I’m going through!” Tommy snapped. Some of the anger dissipated from his features under Fletcher’s cold stare, replaced by fear and misery. He pressed his hands over his eyes. “I’m sorry, just… I can be useful to you if I’m not sick. Please, just… give me something.”

“Look, I can get you methadone tomorrow - probably. You just have to make it ‘til then.”

“I don’t believe that you don’t have anything.”

“Why would I withhold that?”

“No, drugs!” Tommy snapped again. “You have to have something!”

“I never said that I don’t have any painkillers,” Fletcher responded evenly. “I don’t keep recreational drugs in the house, though. So no coke. And no antidepressants, either, although we can… figure that out later if we need to.”

Tommy scoffed. “Maybe you should.”

Fletcher stepped closer. “What?”

Tommy scowled and looked away. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“No, what did you mean?��

Tommy looked at them now, hate burning in his eyes.

“Maybe you should be medicated. Or at least take something that makes you fun to be around, instead of being some sad asshole who lives in the woods out of-”

Fletcher slapped him hard enough to make his head spin. Before Tommy could curl up in a defensive position, Fletcher grabbed his face and brought it close to theirs.

“Out of what?” they hissed.

Tommy averted his eyes and gritted out, “Sorry,” despite still looking pissed.

“No,” Fletcher gave his head a little shake. “Out of what? Tell me what you were gonna say.”

Tommy wasn’t out of his head enough to finish his sentence. He knew it was better to keep his mouth shut. But they were digging their fingers into his cheeks and demanding a response and they weren’t even letting him beg or bargain for pain relief and….

Tommy began to cry, still caught in Fletcher’s grip. He didn’t mean to, but his head was pounding and his body ached and he was hot and cold at the same time and he never stopped feeling like he was on the verge of throwing up and Fletcher wouldn’t even let him do anything to get drugs. They wouldn’t give him anything at all. 

Fletcher made a noise of disgust and released him.

“Give me a shout if you think you’re gonna die,” they said over their shoulder as they stormed out of the room, leaving Tommy alone again.

I just have to get through the break, Tommy kept telling himself. This fever - the withdrawals - they had to break at some point, right? 

God, he missed the internet. WebMD, save me now. He wasn’t sure what would happen, or how long it would take. Would he really die? 

The idea of Fletcher letting him die, purely out of spite, just because they wouldn’t give him drugs, was a funny thought. Funny enough that he laughed about it. It felt like a real possibility, real and close to happening, and he was just snorting and giggling about it on his sweat-soaked sheets. 

Maybe they’ll do it. It might as well happen. He’d had his fun, got to play for a few hours thinking maybe this new life could be okay, could be better. Only to have it snatched away, the dwindling drugs leaving him dying here would be a poignant last kiss goodbye from Caius. He stopped laughing. He laid there in silence and wished things were different. That maybe he could have been someone else.

He hated Caius. He hated Fletcher. To his surprise, Caius visited first. 

Tommy didn’t hear him come in. There was a hand on his face, cradling his chin, another pushing the hair back from his sweaty forehead. He smelled like clean cotton and sandalwood. He was put together as always, beautiful as he was the first day they met. He was wearing that soft linen shirt Tommy liked, that he would rub his cheek on when he pulled it out of the laundry just because it felt nice. So few things in Caius’s home made him feel nice. 

There were no eyes past his clear rimmed glasses, replaced with glowing circles, just like spots in his vision when he’d stared at the sun for too long. The hands on his face were hot, too close, his skin felt unbearably sensitive to his touch - but Caius had come back for him, he wouldn’t let Fletcher leave him to die.

“Caius,” he breathed, and a sob of relief bubbled in his chest. “You - you came back for me.”

“You look awful. Is this any way to behave for one of my friends?” His tone was deceptively gentle, the way it always was, chastising him softly.

“Nooo,” Tommy wheezed, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-”

“They’re sending you home with me. They don’t want you, either.”

Tommy whimpered, sneaking a peek back at the window, at the sunlight streaming in. He felt a pang of remorse for snapping at Fletcher, after all they’d done for him. Caius’s hands pulled his face back, forcing him to stare back into those hollow eyes.

“It’s okay now Tommy, I can make it stop.”

Tommy clutched at his wrists, needed to feel he was real.

“You can?” The whole room was swimming, and all he could do was drown. 

“Please, please, make it stop, please, I’m so sorry,” he begged. He could go home with him happily if he would just stop the pain.

“What are you sorry for?”

Caius’s voice turned cold. So did his hands, suddenly freezing against his skin. He feared they might stick, like a tongue to a frozen pole. He couldn’t speak. He was frozen, too.

“For ruining everything we had? How about that, Tommy, is that it?”

“Yes,” Tommy gasped, as Caius’s nails grew into talons sharp against his face. “Yes, Caius, I’m so sorry, I-”

“Look at me,” Caius snarled, and he gripped the sides of Tommy’s face, looming in closer. Those fingernails burrowed into his scalp. Tommy couldn’t look away, staring into the blinding suns of Caius’s eyes. It burned a searing pain, his eyes were on fire, but he was paralyzed with fear. Caius pressed his thumbs under Tommy’s eyes, pulling the lower lids down as if to peel them from his face. His fingers were long and needle-like now, the sharp tips hovering only a hair’s breadth away from Tommy’s eyes. 

“I’m going to make sure you never see the sun again,” Caius hissed, and he plunged his armored thumbs into his eyes, turning the whole world black in an explosion of pain. 

Tommy screamed and thrashed. A shadow moved in Caius’s eyes and suddenly he wasn’t there. Forming in his place was Fletcher leaning over him, blocking the harsh glow of his ceiling light.

“Hey, hey.”

The hands on his face were human again. He reached up and grabbed onto Fletcher’s wrists. They felt more real.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he wailed. “I’m sorry for what I said. I don’t want to go back, I don’t want to go back in the dark…”

“Alright, alright, calm down,” Fletcher assured him. “You’re not going anywhere, okay?”

Caius peered down at him from over Fletcher’s shoulder.

“I can make the pain stop if you come home with me,” he promised.

Tommy wanted the pain to stop. He wanted it more than anything. But he knew going back with Caius meant being locked back in the dark, cold basement. He knew he would be trading this pain now for more pain in the future. He had made Caius so angry… but still…

“How could you get rid of me?” Tommy sobbed. “How could you… how could you not even say goodbye… after everything… after everything you did to me…”

Fletcher’s brows knit together as they watched Tommy babble to no one, eyes unfocused and drifting. His body jerked suddenly and he rolled over to throw up into the garbage. 

At least he had the wherewithal not to asphyxiate. Fletcher pushed his hair off his face as he heaved again. He was hot to the touch.

The door opened and Williams poked his head in.

“What’s going on in here?”

“Do you need something?” Fletcher asked impatiently. 

“I heard screaming; are you torturing him or something?”

“Willy, you thought I was torturing him in here and you just walked in?”

Williams bristled. “It’s Billy.”

“What do you want?” Fletcher repeated.

Williams nodded towards Tommy. “What’s the matter with him?”

“He’s going through withdrawals.”

Williams blanched slightly. “Oh, yeah? What, uh, kind of stuff was he on?”

Fletcher sighed and shook their head, watching Tommy spit into the can. “I don’t know. Opioids mostly.”

“Methadone helps with that.”

Fletcher sighed louder. “If I had methadone, I would be using it. I have a hook up, but I can’t get it until tomorrow.”

Williams studied Tommy for a moment. “You buy this guy on the black market or something?”

“…Something like that,” Fletcher conceded. “Last time I’m going to ask you if you need something, otherwise leave.”

Williams put up his hands in surrender and left, closing the door once more. 

Fletcher turned their attention to Tommy again. He seemed to be done retching, and at least wasn’t begging to empty air anymore. 

“Okay, try to stand up.”

Fletcher took Tommy’s arms and gently pulled him up. They put an arm around his waist to guide him onto his feet. Tommy grabbed onto their shirt to steady himself, leaning against them as he wobbled through the first few steps across the room.

“Easy, Model-T,” Fletcher cooed. They kept him steady as they led him to the bathroom and shut the door behind them. 

“Alright, get out of your clothes.”

Numbly, Tommy disrobed, refusing to look at Fletcher. He was sweating and shivering at the same time, too empty to retch again. He was distinctly aware that he was not impressing Fletcher. 

Fletcher looked him over with a clinical eye. They’d noticed the new scar on his face, and some uneven marbling of his skin, but they had assumed them to be more scars, or a skin condition. Whatever it was, it was brought to stark relief with him nude in the bathroom light. He was dappled all over in patchy white marks, so bleached they looked almost translucent. His ribs jutted out, clearly underfed and malnourished from years of neglect. Whatever the hell they had done to him, his body had taken a severe toll. But now was not the time to interrogate him.

“Okay, get in the tub. You can sit if you need to.”

Fletcher turned the water on as they gave the instructions, putting their hand in the stream to check the temperature. 

Tommy teetered as he lifted each leg to step into the tub, and kept a hand on the tiled wall as he lowered himself down. 

“Okay, it’s gonna be cold,” Fletcher warned before pulling the diverter and switching the stream of water to the shower head. 

Tommy flinched as the water hit him. It wasn’t hard, and it wasn’t freezing, but it was a shock against his feverish skin. After a moment, it became a relief, grounding him. 

Tommy leaned against the wall, resting his temple on the tiles. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms under his knees.

“‘M sorry,” he murmured.

“You don’t have to keep saying that,” Fletcher responded, sitting on the closed toilet. “I don’t even think you know what you’re apologizing for.”

“No… I’m sorry you have to do all this for me. I’m sure this isn’t what you wanted… when you bought me.”

Fletcher said nothing.

“I, um,” Tommy swallowed. “I’ll make it up to you. When I’m better.”

Fletcher sighed. “Alright. I’m sure you’ll be cussing me out for not giving you drugs in like ten minutes.”

They both sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the rush of the falling water.

“Are you going to send me back?” Tommy asked in a small voice.

“No.” Fletcher didn’t hesitate.

All things considered - at least until the next wave of pain and nausea hit and the cravings took over his system - Tommy hoped they were telling the truth.

Fletcher stopped the shower before Tommy got too cold. They let him towel off and returned with clean clothes before leading him back to his room. 

“Try to get some sleep. I’ll be back around.”

Sleep wasn’t on the table for Tommy. Not in this state. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable.

When the door opened again, it wasn’t Fletcher - it was Williams.

He slipped carefully into Tommy’s room, shutting the door quietly behind him.

“What were you on before?” he asked. “Percs, oxy?”

“I don’t know,” Tommy groaned, turning his head away. “Probably.”

Williams leaned down close. He took hold of Tommy’s chin with two fingers, turning it towards himself and guiding it down. Tommy dutifully opened without much thought. Williams placed something on his tongue.

Tommy’s eyes widened.

It was a pill.

“Don’t say I never did nothin’ for ya.”

Tommy grabbed his water and drank down the pill as Williams slipped out again.

Maybe it was foolish not to spit it out and check what it was. He wasn’t sure if he’d even be able to tell. But at this point, he didn’t really care. He just wanted to feel good enough to return to his chores. 

Whatever happened, he couldn’t lose the light again.

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr @victimeyez

[elvensorceress]

sunday snippet

I meant to have this fic done ages ago but it's now somehow three times as long as it was, I've rewritten it five times, and I'm still working on it 🫠 oh well. have a snippet from snickerdoodles.

@tizniz @hippolotamus @eddiebabygirldiaz @daffi-990 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @kejfeblintz @smilingbuckley @sofa-king-lame @chaosandwolves @smilingbuckley @belasmalhotra @bekkachaos @blutterlie @sazanahashi @livinginsunnyhell @epicbuddieficrecs @sparklespiff @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @dangerpronebuddie continued from Wednesday

Eddie tries again, but still sounds rough and hollowed out. “I don’t want to drag you down. Okay? You should move on and forget me and— and it’ll be better.”

Not so much for Eddie. He’s never let go of anything in his life. It’s all there hiding under the surface, stuffed in cages. But Buck should move on. Buck should survive him. 

Is this their only future? It feels like losing everything. Eddie is losing everything. He’s kidding himself if he thinks he hasn’t already lost Chris. What if Eddie doesn’t survive this time? What will happen to everyone he loves? Everyone who loves him?

Does anyone love him? Does he mean anything to anyone? Has he ever meant anything?

“Forget— I should forget you?” Buck snaps, his anger un-contained fire now, not just a hint of smoldering kindling. Vicious, spitting, sparking, living flames that will turn everything to ashes. 

Maybe they should actually fight and say awful things and then it would be easier to walk away. 

Eddie’s not sure he could even manage that right now. There’s nothing left in him. No fight, no fire. It’s all shattered, scattered pieces. But he would try. If Buck needs that. 

He might need that. He snaps again, “Like you’re a pair of socks that disappeared in the laundry? Or something I meant to pick up at the store and spaced? Like it’s easy? Like you’re nothing? Like this? Us? You and me? Means nothing?”

Okay, when he puts it that way… it sounds dumb. But how else can Eddie stop hurting him? “No,” Eddie says. Not fiery, not loud, not anything. “No. Just. Something that doesn’t—”

“You're my best friend. You— you’re— I’ll let you go. Okay. Whatever. I’ll do that because I know you and I know you need Chris and I get it. I wouldn’t want you to do anything but love him exactly the way you do. But I won’t, will not and can not pretend that you aren’t my best friend and my partner and the person I love more than anything. All right? I’m not going to do that. I’ve spend years—literal— almost a whole decade of years loving you more than anything. I’m not going to just forget that or forget you. I’m not throwing that way. I’m not ever going to lie and say otherwise. This is not a ‘move on and grow out of it’ scenario. I love you more than anything in the world. Okay? You told me I wasn’t expendable and I had to deal with that so you have to deal with this. You mean everything to me and I love you, and that isn’t going to change even when you leave.”

“—hurt you,” Eddie finishes. It doesn’t really sound finished now. He says it because he was already saying it. 

But that the fuck does he say now? 

Eddie doesn’t usually think of himself as small, quiet, or fragile. But he feels like that now. His feeble words sound like it even in his own ears. Small. Inconsequential. Torn apart.

Buck steps back toward him. Not enough that they’re touching, but enough that they’re closer. “Hurt me. Drag me down. I don’t care.”

Eddie recoils. No. No, he hates that idea. He is not doing that. Not intentionally. Not. What the fuck. 

He knows he said the words. He said them because his mother said them and they stuck and haven’t left his head or his heart and it’s all he does. Ruin people he loves. 

Buck shakes his head. “Be in the way. Burden me. Share whatever weight you’re carrying. Be something that stays even if you’re not here. Be part of my life even if it hurts. I don’t care if it hurts, I need you to be something to me. Having nothing of you would be a hundred, thousand, million times worse. I am in this with you. I always have been. Don’t shut me out just to spare me. If you’re facing the fire, I want to be right there with you. Please don’t make me lose everything of you. Please don’t— please. Don’t pretend this is nothing. I can take you leaving, I can’t take this,” he motions between them, “meaning nothing.”

Eddie stares and doesn’t move. And stares harder like it will help him understand. 

He knows he’s breathing still because there’s air. 

Maybe he’s not breathing. But something is making air flow in and out of his body. Like rescue breaths? Supplemental oxygen? It’s not Eddie doing it, he’s not taking in air, but it happens anyway. 

He doesn’t understand. Maybe he never has. Maybe his brain stopped processing information when he stopped breathing because the brain can’t function without oxygen. Something like that. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t. 

Buck wants something of him even after everything? After all the people who have walked out on him and treated him like he doesn’t matter? Even with how Eddie fails and hurts people who care about him? He means something to Buck? Even though he’s hurting him and abandoning him and losing him? Eddie’s just another person who leaves him. He can’t hurt Buck. He can’t keep doing it. Buck doesn’t deserve this. And Eddie deserves no loyalty, no forgiveness. 

He doesn’t deserve anyone’s love. Not in any form. He shouldn’t have it. He’s never had it. 

“I don’t—” Eddie tries to say. He has to say. He has to make the words come out. “I don’t want to hurt you the way Abby hurt you. I don’t want to do that.” 

Buck shakes his head again and starts to say something.

Eddie beats him to it. “I know it’s not the same. I know I’m not— I know you don’t— It’s different. Still. I know how she hurt you, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t know how to not do that. I’m leaving you here. In my house. Just like she did when she left you. And I have to—” Do the same fucking thing? Give him up? Walk away? Destroy everything they made together? And maybe the only way to survive is to do what Eddie does best and ruin everything? 

He looks back at Buck and doesn’t mean to say it. He wasn’t going to say anything. It doesn’t matter. He doesn’t matter. He should be mean and nasty and he should tell Buck he means nothing, this means nothing, and then Buck can just be justifiably angry and hate Eddie properly. 

And it would spare him. Whatever pain and tragedy that is associated with being near Eddie. It would spare Buck. 

That’s what he should do. 

That would be mercy and kindness. Pick up the weapon and blow this all to hell. 

Eddie can’t breathe. He can’t do this. Any of it. 

He can’t let go. He can’t lose Buck. 

And then he’s suddenly confessing, “I don’t want to do this."

It’s too late. It’s always too late. And what he actually wants has never mattered. He doesn’t matter. He never has. He twists his hands together and has nothing else to hold onto. It’s too late, so none of this matters. Eddie doesn’t matter. But he meets Buck’s lost gaze, stares into his eyes for three seconds, and he can’t keep it in.

“I want to be with Chris. I miss him so much. Every minute of every day. But I don't want to leave here. I don't want this. But it doesn't matter what I want. It never has. The one time I said, 'What about me? Why didn't you think of me?' Chris left. He left because I hurt him. And my dad says, ‘don’t wait thirty years to listen to your son.’ So I listen. I don’t know what the hell else to do. I listen, and I do what all of them ask. Even when it’s the last thing I want and I’ve already said, no, please stop, I need more time, please hear me. They don’t listen to me. I’m still nothing to every single one of them. And I just keep thinking why don’t I ever count? Why don’t I matter even a little bit?

"You think you aren't everything to me, too? Do you think that I don't love you just as much as you love me? But I don’t get to pick you. I don’t get to have anything of you. I hurt everyone I try to love including you and Chris. I’m not enough for anyone, in any way. I can’t love anyone the way they need or the way I’m supposed to. You say you’re defective parts, well I’m fucking broken.

"That’s why you should forget me. I don’t matter. You shouldn’t care. I should mean nothing because I am nothing. I’m not worth this. If I were a better, stronger person, I’d make you hate me. But I can’t even do that. I don’t want to hurt you more. I have to lose you and I don’t know how to lose you. I love you more than anything and it’s not enough. I don’t know what else to do but say, you should move on and forget me.”

Eddie turns away and covers his face, tries to hold his head because it’s aching. It’s too much. That was too much. He’s not supposed to be falling apart. Everything is supposed to be getting better. 

Shards of ice crack and fracture and break underneath him. Everything in the cage around his ribs snaps and he’s crying into his hands, trying to keep it together. Trying and failing. Always failing. His face is already wet. He was already broken. A long time ago. So many times. 

Buck is suddenly behind him. Not distant. Close behind him. He touches Eddie’s back gently and then steps around until he’s standing in front of him. He reaches between them and rests his hand on Eddie’s chest. As if he can stop the never-ending bleeding that’s somehow always pouring from Eddie’s heart. “You are enough, Eddie. You’re more than enough."

[sexualtensiongrowing21]

Slytherin boys react // Finding out you’re pregnant.

Draco Malfoy~

Draco paced the length of his shared Slytherin dorm, his hands buried in his platinum hair, tugging at the strands in agitation. You sat on the edge of his velvet green bedding, your hands trembling as you watched him unravel. He had been silent for a long moment after you told him, his stormy gray eyes wide with shock.

“You’re… pregnant,” he repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, his voice laced with disbelief. He stopped pacing, turning to face you. “How could you let this happen? How could I let this happen?” His tone was sharp, but you could hear the undercurrent of fear beneath the frustration.

You flinched, unsure whether to feel hurt or defensive. “Draco, it wasn’t exactly planned—”

“Planned?!” He threw his hands up in exasperation, spinning on his heel to pace again. “Do you have any idea what my parents will say? What Father will say? He will surely crucio me on the spot. A Malfoy heir out of wedlock, and with someone I’m not even courting?” He groaned, sinking onto a nearby chair and burying his face in his hands. “Merlin, I’ll be disowned. Burned off the family tapestry, just like Sirius.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears, and your voice wavered. “I thought you’d be happy about this. You said you cared about me, Draco.”

At that, he froze. Slowly, he raised his head to look at you. His features softened, the usual mask of arrogance slipping away. “I do care about you,” he said quietly, his voice trembling slightly. “I care more than I should. That’s why I’m panicking. This is… this is huge.”

You watched as he stood and moved toward you, kneeling in front of you and taking your hands in his. His touch was warm, grounding. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his gray eyes searching yours. “I didn’t mean to lash out. I’m just… terrified.”

You squeezed his hands, your voice barely above a whisper. “So am I.”

For a moment, silence stretched between you, and then Draco let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening around yours. “We’ll figure it out,” he said firmly, more to himself than to you. “I’ll… I’ll talk to my parents. I’ll make them understand. You won’t do this alone, I swear.”

The vulnerability in his voice made your heart ache. He was still panicked, still frustrated, but beneath it all, he was Draco—the boy who had always cared for you, even when he tried not to show it. He cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. “I’m happy about this,” he whispered. “I really am. I’m just going to need a little time to get used to it.”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “We’ll figure it out,” you echoed, your voice steady despite the uncertainty ahead.

For the first time since you’d told him, Draco smiled—hesitant and a little wry, but genuine. “We will,” he said, his voice softening further. “We always do.”

Theodore Nott ~

Theodore stood at the edge of the Astronomy Tower, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his usual calm replaced with a quiet unease. The faint sound of your footsteps pulled his attention, and when he turned, his green eyes softened at the sight of you—but only for a moment. Something in your expression made his brow furrow.

“What’s wrong, bella?” he asked softly, his voice laced with concern.

You hesitated, the words heavy on your tongue. “Theo… I think I’m pregnant.”

He froze, his breath hitching audibly. For a moment, he just stared at you, like the words hadn’t fully registered. Then, slowly, his face crumpled—not with anger, but with a raw, unfiltered fear.

“Merda,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. He took a step back, his movements shaky as he turned away from you. “No, no, no… this can’t be happening. I… I can’t…” His voice broke, and he gripped the railing of the tower like it was the only thing keeping him upright.

“Theo—”

“I don’t know how to do this!” he blurted out, his voice trembling. He spun back to face you, his eyes wide and glassy. “I don’t know how to be a father.” His voice cracked on the last word, and he turned away again, dragging a hand down his face.

You stepped closer, your heart aching at the sight of him unraveling. “Theo, look at me.”

He didn’t move, his shoulders shaking slightly. “I’m not good,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I’m not like you. I’ll hurt them—I’ll ruin them. Just like he ruined me.” His words were laced with a deep, painful sadness, and when he finally turned to face you, there were tears in his eyes.

“You won’t,” you said firmly, reaching out to take his hand. He let you, his fingers trembling in yours. “You’re not your father, Theo. You’ve never been like him, and you never will be.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered, his voice breaking again.

“Because I know you,” you said, squeezing his hand tightly. “You care so much, even when you don’t want to show it. You’re kind, Theo. And yes, you’ve been hurt, but that doesn’t mean you’ll hurt anyone else. You’re not him.”

He let out a shaky breath, his head hanging low as he tried to steady himself. “I don’t know if I can do this,” he admitted, his voice barely audible.

“You can,” you said gently, stepping closer until you were right in front of him. “And you won’t do it alone. I’ll be here, every step of the way. We’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

Theo looked at you then, really looked at you, and the fear in his eyes softened just slightly. “Tesoro mio,” he murmured, his voice raw but tender. “What if I’m not enough?”

“You already are,” you said softly, brushing a hand against his cheek. “You’re enough, Theo. For me, and for them.”

For a long moment, he simply stared at you, his breathing shaky as he tried to absorb your words. Slowly, he nodded, though the fear hadn’t completely left his face. “I’m still scared,” he admitted, his voice trembling.

“I know,” you said, resting your forehead against his. “So am I. But we’ll be okay. I believe in you, Theo.”

A tear slipped down his cheek, and he let out a shaky laugh, his lips twitching into the faintest smile. “You make me believe in myself,” he whispered. “And maybe… maybe that’s enough for now.”

Blaise Zabini ~

You found Blaise in the Slytherin common room, lounging casually in one of the green armchairs near the fire. His dark, smoldering eyes flicked up to meet yours as you entered, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, well,” he drawled, setting down the book he’d been pretending to read. “To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you so late, ma chèrie?”

You hesitated, shifting your weight from one foot to the other as you clutched your hands tightly together. Blaise immediately noticed your unease, his smirk fading slightly. He straightened in his chair, leaning forward with a curious tilt of his head. “What’s wrong?”

Taking a shaky breath, you stepped closer and forced the words out. “Blaise… I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, silence fell over the room. Blaise blinked, his lips parting slightly as he processed your words. Then, with maddening calm, he leaned back in his chair and arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure it’s mine?”

“Blaise!” you hissed, your cheeks flushing with anger.

He laughed, the rich, velvety sound echoing off the stone walls. “Relax,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m joking. Obviously, it’s mine. Who else could it possibly be? No one shags as good as me.” His grin widened, the cocky confidence you’d come to expect from him shining through.

You glared at him, your nerves still raw. “This isn’t funny, Blaise! I’ve been terrified to tell you, and all you can do is make jokes?”

But instead of brushing you off, Blaise’s expression softened, something almost tender flickering in his eyes. He stood and closed the distance between you, his large, warm hands gently cupping your face. “Hey,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you. But… you should know something.”

You looked up at him, your heart pounding. “What?”

A slow, genuine smile spread across his face, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’m… happy,” he said, the words sounding almost foreign coming from his lips. “Actually, I’m ecstatic.”

Your eyes widened. “You are?”

“Of course,” he said smoothly, leaning closer, his dark eyes sparkling. “The idea of a little Zabini running around? Brilliant. They’ll be the best-looking, most charming kid Hogwarts has ever seen.” He smirked, but it wasn’t as sharp as usual—there was warmth behind it.

“I… I didn’t think you’d want this,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

“Want this? I didn’t expect it, sure,” he said, his tone softening. “But you’re having my heir. That’s…” He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head. “That’s incredible.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be relieved or completely thrown by his uncharacteristic reaction. “So… you’re okay with this?”

“Okay with it?” he repeated, his grin widening. “I’m bloody thrilled. You and me, taking on the world with a mini version of us? Sounds perfect to me.”

A small laugh escaped you, a mix of disbelief and relief. “You’re so full of yourself.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a featherlight kiss. “And you love it,” he murmured, his voice laced with that familiar, teasing confidence.

As he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, you realized that somehow, in his own infuriatingly charming way, Blaise Zabini was exactly what you needed right now.

[inkedinshadows]

An Angel on the Ice

A/N: happy @acotargiftexchange to you, @duskandcobalt! I'm your Secret Santa, finally here with your gift! I had so much fun getting to know you and your love for this wonderful couple. I'm so so sorry I made you wait till the very end, I've been busier than I expected. BUT!! I have a second little surprise coming for you in the next few days (probably on Christmas day). I came up with the idea while writing this fic, but I didn't know how to include it here, so it'll be a little drabble on its own. Without further ado, here's your gift. Enjoy! And congratulations for guessing what Az's surprise was!

Pairing: Azriel x Elain

Summary: Azriel takes Elain to the Illyrian mountains for a romantic surprise.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: fluff, fluff, FLUFF

The cold winter air hit Elain in the face as she stepped out of the little art shop and onto the street.

The snow that had fallen during the night still coated the cobblestones, blanketing everything in a thin layer of soft white. It had brought along the cold, so freezing that her wool hat did little to warm her.

Azriel followed her outside, a wing already curling protectively around her, drawing her closer to his side. Except he was carrying the bags full of the presents they'd bought for their family, and she was still walking a couple feet away from him.

“You know, you don't have to carry all of the bags,” she said, reaching out with a gloved hand to relieve him of some weight. “I can hold some.”

He moved his hand further away, out of her reach. “I know you can, angel,” he said with a soft smile. “I just don't want you to. You're cold. You should keep your hands in your pockets.”

“I'm wearing gloves,” she pointed out, though she didn't try to grab the bags again. She knew Azriel wouldn't let her. “I'm not cold.”

A small dimple appeared on his cheek as he smirked at her. Even after months together, Elain's heart skipped a beat at the sight, her fingers twitching at her side with the urge to touch it and place a soft kiss there.

“Then why are your nose and cheeks red?”

She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “My sister was right. You Illyrians really are overprotective mother hens.”

Yet even as she said it, her hands slid back into the pockets of her coat. Azriel's smirk grew at the movement, but he didn't comment.

“We have to earn that title somehow,” he said instead. Elain laughed, and his smile became softer. “Let's go home.”

Home. There was a time when she'd thought the Night Court would never be her home. Only three years ago, it had felt impossible. Turned Fae against her will, shoved at a male she didn't know or want, with powers she had no idea how to control, and a broken engagement on top of it all… she'd felt hopeless.

But as she'd learned how to accept and navigate her new life, Azriel had been there to help her through it. Something had slowly changed between them, a feeling that grew inside her until she could no longer pretend it wasn't there. But acting on it had led to a denied kiss in the dead of the longest night of the year. A broken heart, that feeling of hopelessness again, and then the explanation, the argument with Rhysand, the rejection of her mating bond.

Elain stole a glance at Azriel. Just a Winter Solstice ago, he had told her it had been a mistake. And now here he was, carrying their bags full of presents, on their way to the small house they'd bought a few months ago.

“You're staring, angel.”

She couldn't help the smile that blossomed on her lips. “You're just so beautiful to look at.”

She knew the effect the words would have on him, but by the Mother, she would never get tired of the way his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink. It was visible even now, when they were already reddened by the cold. It happened every time she called him beautiful, and it was one of the many things she loved about him.

“How many presents do you still have to buy?” she asked him, changing the topic to make him feel more comfortable. If they were at home, she might have teased him about his blush, but not in public.

“Just a couple,” he answered, the flush already disappearing from his cheeks. “But I know what I'll get them. The only one I miss is Cassian.”

“You can always get him beef jerky this year too,” she joked, avoiding an ice patch on the cobblestones.

Azriel glanced at her. She knew he was making sure she didn't slip on the street. Overprotective mother hen, indeed. Yet she immediately stepped back into the warmth of his wing around her.

“I might, actually,” he finally replied, no hint of joking in his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, her brow furrowed. But he looked completely serious. “You can't gift him beef jerky, Az! Two years in a row at that.”

“Why not? He likes it.”

Elain shook her head in disbelief. “Because he's your brother. You always come home with a new present for me, but you can't think of anything different for your brother?”

Azriel smirked. “I'm not in love with my brother, angel.”

It was her turn to blush now. She knew he loved her, of course. They'd said it before a thousand times. But Azriel had his own way of saying it when she least expected it — reminding her whenever he could, catching her off guard and making her heart beat faster every single time.

“You know that's not what I meant,” she mumbled. She preceded him up the few steps to their front door, her fingers stiff even inside the gloves. She fumbled with the key for a moment before she managed to turn it in the lock.

The warmth of the living room welcomed her inside, the smell of the bread she'd baked that morning still lingering in the air.

“It can be difficult to come up with something new and different after five hundred years,” Azriel said as he followed her in. He set the bags down before turning to face her. “You'll see.”

Elain took off her gloves, then her hat, his words swirling in her mind. “You know, it used to scare me,” she mused. “The thought of having eternity in front of me.”

Azriel watched her carefully. “But now it doesn’t?”

She shook her head, stepping closer. “No.” Her arms wrapped around him, and she rested her chin on his chest, tilting her head up to look at him. “Because now I get to spend it with you.”

His throat bobbed. She was the one who'd caught him off guard this time. At a loss of words, Azriel buried his fingers in her hair, angling her head so he could lean down and capture her lips in a kiss that left her dizzy. The kind of kiss that usually meant they would take things up to the bedroom. Or whatever nearest surface they could find.

But he pulled back instead. Elain's heart was already racing in her chest, and she was rising on her toes for another kiss when he spoke again.

“I have a surprise for you.”

She stopped, lowering herself onto her feet. “Winter Solstice is still a week away.”

With the holidays nearing, he’d stopped getting her little gifts out of nowhere. He said he wanted to wait because everything had to be perfect this year. Their first Solstice together.

“It's not a present,” he replied. His hand slid from her hair to her cheek, and she had trouble focusing as his thumb brushed her lip. “It's something I want to do with you. I wanted to wait till Solstice, but now it just feels like the right moment.”

Elain could only nod. “Okay,” she whispered.

His chuckle was a low rumble that resonated deep in her chest. “What happened, angel?” he asked softly. “Where did your voice go?”

“You're… distracting me.”

It took her a moment to snap out of it, to find the strength to step back and let his hand fall away from her face. But she didn't miss his smug grin at her admission.

She cleared her throat, trying to clear her mind as well and focus on Azriel’s surprise. “What do you want to do?” she asked as she reached for the first button of her coat.

Azriel's hand gently caught hers to stop her. “Keep it on,” he said. “We need to go back outside.” At her curious look, he added, “I want to take you to Rhys's cabin.”

Well, that was certainly a surprise.

“Rhys's cabin?” she repeated, even as she slid her gloves back on. “Why?”

He smiled, offering her the hat she'd hung on the coat rack. “It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, angel.”

“Right,” she chuckled. She made sure to grab a warm scarf as well this time before silently offering him her gloved hand.

Azriel took it in his larger one, and then they were winnowing out of Velaris and deep into Illyrian territory.

The first thing Elain noticed was the cold, her breath forming a faint puff in the air. Then she took in the snow that covered everything, white and bright under the afternoon sun.

Azriel's hand tightened around hers, and he guided her toward the cabin just a few yards away. The snow reached their calves, and never before had Elain been so glad to be wearing boots.

“I'm starting to question why you brought me here,” she mumbled, struggling to wade through the snow even as she followed directly in the path his footsteps left behind.

“I'm sorry, angel,” he replied, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “I promise it'll be worth it.”

He glanced over his shoulder at her, sizing her up as if he was pondering picking her up and carrying her to the cabin. But a few more steps finally brought them to the door, and he ushered her inside.

Her breath caught as she looked up.

Every wall was covered in paint, drawings in a style that she immediately recognized as her sister’s.

“Are those…?”

Azriel nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “Yes. Feyre painted them.” He let go of her hand and pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. “Wait here. I’ll get what we need.”

Elain watched him disappear down the hallway, wings tucked tight against his back. She sank onto the couch, admiring her sister’s artwork all over the room, its colors adding warm to the otherwise bare place.

Azriel was back in a matter of minutes, two pairs of shoes in his hands.

As he walked closer and took a seat next to her, she noticed the thin blades attached to the soles. She frowned even as she accepted the pair that he offered her. “What are these exactly?”

He was already working on swapping his boots with the new ones. “You’re asking a lot of questions today,” he quipped with a smile. “Put them on, angel. They’re Mor’s, but they should fit you. You’ll find out what they're for soon enough.”

Elain let out a dramatic sigh, hiding her own smile as she leaned down to take off her boots. “You’re lucky I love you, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s eyes softened. “I never once doubted it, angel.”

When she was done, he helped her stand, giving her just enough time to balance herself on those strange boots before he winnowed them again. She instinctively gripped his arm to steady herself as they reappeared on the shore of a frozen lake. She looked around, her eyes searching the snowy expanse, but there was nothing in sight expect the white mountains.

Before she could ask anything — despite knowing how slim her chances of getting a straight answer out of Azriel were — he stepped back. Right on the icy surface of the lake.

Elain gasped, expecting the ice to give way beneath him and send him plunging into the freezing water below.

But nothing happened. The ice didn't even creak under his weight. Azriel simply stood there, a smile on his beautiful face, and extended a hand toward her. “Come join me, angel.”

She hesitated, glancing down at his feet. Though she was standing on the same thin blades, she wasn’t moving, and she wasn’t entirely sure she wouldn’t fall flat on her face if she tried to step forward.

“Why are we stepping on the ice?” she inquired, hoping to buy herself a little more time.

“We're skating,” Azriel explained, finally giving her an answer. To demonstrate, he glided backward a few feet, his wings flaring slightly to steady him before he slid back toward her. He gracefully stopped right at the edge of the lake. “You should give it a try.”

Elain didn't move. He made it look so easy, but who knew how many times he had done this before? He also made wielding a sword look easy.

“You won't fall, Ellie,” he reassured her, as if he had read her mind. He reached out with both hands. “And even if you do, I'll be here to catch you. I promise.”

She might not trust herself, but she trusted him — trusted that he would always be there to catch her if she fell. So she took his hands and slowly set one foot on the ice, then the other.

Azriel smiled at her, his fingers firm around hers. “That's it, angel. We'll take it one step at a time. Just bend your knees a little and follow my lead.”

She did as he asked and when he moved back, he gently pulled her along. Her feet glided over the surface of the lake, leaving faint lines behind.

He gave her a few instructions, guiding her further from the shore, never letting go. Slowly, Elain became more confident, more stable on her feet as she got used to the movements. It reminded her of a dance, one that could be elegant and beautiful when someone was skilled. She made a mental note to tell Nesta about it later.

“Where did you learn to do this?” she asked. Azriel was holding only one of her hands now, and they skated side by side. Still slowly, but they had gained some speed. “It doesn't seem like a typical Illyrian activity.”

Azriel laughed. It was that beautiful, deep laugh he reserved just for her. “You're right. It's not.” His laughter softned, but its warmth lingered in his voice. “It's common in the Winter Court. Viviane taught Mor a few centuries ago, and she taught the rest of us.”

He slowed them to a stop, shifting to stand in front of her. “I never thought I would, but I took a liking to it.”

Elain smiled up at him. “I think I like it too.”

“I thought you might.” He brought her hand up to his lips, placing a kiss on her gloved knuckles. “Want to try skating on you own?”

She thought about it for a moment, then she nodded. “Alright. But don't wander too far, okay?”

Azriel's smile was bright and soft. “Never, angel.”

He let go of her hand and moved a few feet away from her. At first, she faltered without his grip to steady her, but she quickly adjusted, his earlier instructions echoing in her mind.

For every step she took toward him, Azriel moved further back. Elain felt like a child learning to walk, her movements awkward but growing more confident with every push of her foot. Soon, gliding over the ice came naturally. And Azriel was always there, his hands outstretched to catch her if she fell. But she didn’t.

When he stopped and she reached him again, his hazel eyes were bright with pride and love. “You did it, Ellie.”

“Yes,” she replied, already intertwining their fingers again. “But don't let go of my hands again.”

Azriel's brow furrowed. “Why? You did great. You didn't even stumble.”

“I know.” Elain smirked, unable to hide her own satisfaction from her little accomplishment. “I just want to hold your hand.”

His expression softened, and a smile spread across his lips. That adorable dimple appeared once again, and with it came back her need to kiss it. Damn skates, she couldn't rise on her toes with those on.

“I will never let you go, angel,” he promised.

And he didn't.

Elain had no idea how much time they spent on that lake. It was just him and her, lost in the snowy mountains in the middle of nowhere. The silence was broken only by their laughter and quiet words. It felt as though they were the only two people in the world, free from worries and duties, lost in this moment, in each other, in a love born from quiet understanding and gentle touches.

The sun was setting by the time Azriel came to a halt, wrapping his strong arms around her. “We should probably get back,” he murmured, his voice soft as if to preserve the moment. “It's getting late.”

“And cold,” she added. Without the warm sunlight, the already cold air had turned into a freezing bite. Her scarf and hat didn't help much, and even Azriel's warmth couldn't stop her gloved hands from stiffening.

“We could take a hot bath,” she suggested. “Or I could make us some hot chocolate and we can cuddle in front of the fireplace.”

Azriel smirked, mischief sparkling in his eyes. “And losing the chance of seeing your gorgeous body? I think I'll choose that bath, angel.”

Elain's cheeks turned a deep shade of red. “I… didn't mean it like that.”

His face fell slightly as worry creeped into his eyes. “You know we don't have to do anything if you don't want to, angel. I'm sorry if I assumed—”

She cut him off with a soft smile. “Az, I just hadn't thought about it. I'd love to take a bath together.” She cupped his face with her small hands, her voice barely above a whisper. “Take me home, Shadowsinger.”

His arms tightened around her, and he winnowed them away without another word, her laughter echoing in the now-empty glade.

dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon

[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 19 -

Thanksgiving break had finally arrived, and I couldn’t pack my bags fast enough. The thought of heading home to spend time with my dad filled me with so much excitement that I barely noticed Chris and Matt walk in the dorm.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Chris said, pointing to the pile I’d stacked near the door.

“Yeah, no shit,” Matt added, leaning against his bed. “Are you moving home permanently?”

I rolled my eyes. “I’m just prepared, okay? Unlike you guys. What are you taking home, one hoodie and a pair of sweatpants?”

Chris grinned. “Pretty much, yeah.”

I couldn’t wait to spend uninterrupted time with my dad, cooking, watching football, and enjoying the comfort of home.

“Actually,” Matt said, breaking my train of thought, “since we’re all gonna be home, we should film a car video the day after Thanksgiving. Nick got home this morning.”

Chris perked up. “Yeah, it was really fun when you did the Q&A with us. Nick would kill us if we didn’t invite you.”

I smiled at the idea. “I’m in. But only if I get shotgun.”

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Chris said quickly, shaking his head. “The fans know that's my seat.”

“Unbelievable,” I teased, throwing a hoodie into my bag.

Chris chuckled. “Snacks are on us, though.”

I slung my bag over my shoulder, glancing at both of them. “Fine. Friday it is. Don’t let me down on the snacks.” Matt and Chris each grabbed one of my bags and their own.

The boys had grown even more in the past weeks on youtube, they are at around two hundred thousand subscribers. I haven't been in a video since the q&a.

As we all headed out of the dorm to load up our cars, Matt glanced over. “Bet you’re excited to see your dad, huh?”

“More than anything,” I said with a soft smile. 

Chris grinned. “Enjoy it while it lasts. You're free from us until Friday.”

I laughed, waving them off as I got into my car. Heading home to my dad.

As soon as I pulled into the driveway of my childhood home, a wave of relief washed over me. The house looked the same as it always did. I barely had the car in park before my dad stepped out onto the porch, his arms wide open.

“Honey!” he called, his voice filled with excitement.

“Dad!” I shouted back, rushing up the steps and into his embrace. His hugs always made everything else fade away, no matter how stressful life had been.

“You’re home,” he said, holding me tight for an extra second before pulling back to look at me. “How’s my girl?”

“Better now,” I said honestly. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too, kiddo.” He grabbed my bags from the car, insisting I didn’t have to lift a finger, and brought them inside.

Once my bags were dropped in my room, my dad clapped his hands together. “So, what do you say we go out for dinner tonight? My treat. Anywhere you want.”

I grinned. “How about… Kingsleys?”

“You read my mind,” he said with a wink.

“Good, lets go,” I said, already grabbing my coat.

The waitress recognized us immediately and greeted us like old friends. We slid into a booth near the window, and my dad wasted no time ordering a coffee while I looked over the menu.

“So,” he started, leaning back in the booth. “What’s new? How’s school?”

“It’s… been a lot,” I admitted, stirring my water with a straw. “But good. Mostly good.”

He gave me a knowing look. “Mostly?”

I hesitated, not wanting to dive into the bad that had been my life lately. “You know, just the usual. Classes, making friends, figuring it all out.”

He nodded, but I could tell he wasn’t buying it entirely, but he knew if I wanted to tell him I would “Well, you’re strong. You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

When the food came, we both dove in, chatting between bites. He told me about work, his recent golf games, and a new neighbor who’d moved in down the street. I told him about my classes—leaving out all the drama.

By the time we left the diner, I felt lighter. Being with my dad always had that effect on me. As we walked to the car, he draped an arm around my shoulders.

“I’m proud of you, honey,” he said softly.

That one sentence made the entire trip home worth it. 

“Thanks, Dad. I’m proud of you too.”

The ride home was filled with music and easy conversation. Once we got back, we settled into the living room, 

We were lounging on the couch in the living room. My dad had just hit play on one of his favorite old Westerns when his phone buzzed on the side table. He leaned over to grab it, squinting at the screen.

“Who’s texting you this late?” I teased, stretching my legs out across the couch.

He chuckled. “It’s Jimmy.”

At the mention of Matt, Chris, and Nick’s dad, I sat up a little straighter. “What’s he saying?”

My dad raised an eyebrow as he read the message. “Apparently, Matt and Chris have been talking about you. They want us to come to their big Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow.”

My heart skipped a beat. “Wait, what? Why?”

“I don’t know, honey,” he said, holding up his phone like I could read the screen from across the room. “But Jimmy says they’ve been going on about you and he and Mary Lou wanted to invite us.”

I frowned, conflicted. After everything that had happened, the idea of sitting at a dinner table with Matt and Chris felt… complicated. Sure the past month between us has been fine but bringing family into it was a whole different thing.

My dad must’ve seen the hesitation on my face because he set his phone down and gave me a reassuring look. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. It’s your call, honey.”

I bit my lip, my mind racing. “I dont know”

He nodded, respecting my boundaries like he always did. “Well, think about it. Might be fun. And you know how much I love Thanksgiving food.”

I laughed softly. “You really can’t resist a good turkey, huh?”

“Guilty as charged,” he said with a grin.

“I’ll let you know in the morning,” I finally said.

I watched my dad as he set his phone down, a somewhat upset look on his face. It hit me then, how long it had been since we’d shared a Thanksgiving dinner with anyone besides each other. Not since my mom left. The idea of being around a big family again made my heart ache a little, but it also made me happy thinking about my dad having people around him.

“You know what?” I said, sitting up. “Let’s do it.”

His eyebrows shot up in happiness. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” I nodded firmly, a small smile tugging at my lips. “It’ll be fun. We haven’t done anything like this in forever. And it’s not just for me, it’ll be good for you too.”

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made me smile even wider. “Honey, you don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’m not worrying,” I said quickly, shaking my head. “I just… I think we should go. Jimmy’s always been good to you, It’s nice. Feels like the right thing to do.”

He tilted his head, studying me for a moment before giving a slow nod. “Alright then. We’ll go.”

I grinned “You better be ready to charm the room tomorrow. I’m not letting you sit in the corner like an antisocial weirdo.”

He laughed again, his face lighting up in a way I hadn’t seen in a long time. “No promises”

The next morning, the house was filled with a calm buzz of preparation. I stood in front of my small vanity, eyeing the outfit I had carefully picked out the night before. A loose white sweater paired with a tight black skirt that laid neatly on the bed, along with black sheer tights, white socks, and my favorite pair of black Converse. Simple but put together.

I slipped on the skirt, smoothing it down over the tights before tugging the sweater over my head. I grabbed my curling iron and added loose waves to my hair, the curls falling softly over my shoulders. I fluffed them out a bit for volume before stepping back to examine the final result in the mirror. 

As I laced up my Converse, my dad knocked lightly on my door and peeked his head in. “You ready, honey?”

“Just about,” I said, standing up and grabbing my phone. “How do I look?”

He gave me a once-over and smiled warmly. “Beautiful. They’ll be lucky to have you there.”

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn’t hide the grin spreading across my face. “Thanks, Dad. Let’s go before you get sentimental.”

We grabbed our coats and headed out the door, the crisp November air biting at my cheeks as we climbed into the car. I felt a mix of nerves and excitement fluttering in my stomach as we drove to the Sturniolo house. 

Once we got to their house my dad knocked on the door. My dad and Jimmy shared a handshake and a chuckle, their longtime bond evident in the way they exchanged knowing looks. 

“Y/N, it’s so good to see you,” Jimmy said warmly as he greeted me with a big hug, his presence welcoming. “You’ve grown up so fast, Last time I really saw you was in diapers.” He said.

My dad chuckled and gave me a playful nudge. “It’s true. She’s a little too grown up for my liking.”

Jimmy laughed heartily and patted my dad on the back. “I get it, buddy. But she’s doing well, right?”

“She is,” my dad replied, his voice filled with pride. “She’s been keeping busy with school. It’s nice to finally have some time to relax and visit.”

Mary Lou came over, greeting us both with her characteristic warmth. “Y/N, you look wonderful!,” she said, turning to my father with a smile. “It’s so great to finally see you again!”

“Thank you for having us,” my dad replied, shaking her hand. “It means a lot. Y/N and I could use a good Thanksgiving this year.”

“I’m just happy we could make it happen,” Mary Lou said, beaming. “And we’re glad you could join us.”

As I followed my dad inside, I could see how at ease he was in this familiar environment. It was clear that Jimmy and my dad had a special, long-lasting friendship. They went to school together and worked together right out of graduation.

After some more warm greetings, Jimmy called the boys upstairs. “Boys grab Justin and bring him downstairs. Dinner’s almost ready!”

I caught sight of Justin walking down the stairs, and we exchanged a quick hug. “Long time, no see,” he said with a grin. “How’s school?”

“Busy, but good.” I replied.

We made our way to the dining room, where the table was set beautifully. As we sat down, Matt made his way sitting next to me and nudged me with his shoulder.

“Sorry, Chris and Nick’s idea” he whispered while everyone passed around food.

“Just admit you missed seeing me and couldn't wait till friday” I winked and passed him the rolls.

“You wish, sweetheart” I rolled my eyes at him and turned to listen to everyone's small talk and join in on some conversations.

After dinner, the boys invited me upstairs to hang out for a bit. We all settled into their room, laughing and chatting about everything from school to random things that had happened throughout the week. 

“Y/N, you ready to head out?” My dad yelled up the stairs, sounding a little tired but still upbeat.

I stood up, stretching. “Yeah, I’ll be down in a second!” I called back, feeling a little reluctant to leave but knowing I should head home.

As I started to head downstairs, Matt followed me. When we reached the bottom, my dad was waiting in the living room, ready to go.

He smiled at me, his hands in his pockets. “Alright, honey, let’s get going. It’s been a long day.”

Matt, who had been hovering near the doorway, spoke up. “Hey, if you want to stay longer, I can drive her home later,” he said casually, glancing between my dad and me.

I hesitated, looking between the two of them. “Thanks, Matt, but I think I’ll go with my dad tonight,” I said, offering a small smile.

Before I could head for the door, my dad raised a hand. “You know what? Why don’t you stay? I’ll head out. You're young, stay and have fun,” he said, a warm smile on his face. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me.”

I glanced back at Matt, who was looking at me with a raised brow. “You sure?” I asked my dad.

“Yeah, absolutely,” my dad assured me. “Have a good time, and I’ll get going. I want you to enjoy yourself.”

I looked at Matt again, and he gave me a reassuring nod. “You don’t have to worry about getting home, Y/N. I’ve got you covered whenever you’re ready to head back,” he said with a small grin.

With a deep breath, I looked at my dad and smiled. “Okay, I’ll stay,” I said, feeling a little bad I wasn't going home with him.

“Sounds good,” my dad said with a chuckle, heading toward the door. “Enjoy yourselves, both of you.”

I gave him a hug and waved him off before turning back to Matt “You want me so bad, its insane”

Matt laughed “You know I do, I'm just waiting on you”

“Maybe you'll get lucky tonight” I winked at him before running past him up the stairs.

Around 10 PM, I finally decided it was time to head home. I had stayed later than I intended, but it had been a good night. I turned to Matt, who was talking to the guys. “I think I’m ready to go now,” I said, slipping my coat on. I gave Nick, Chris and Justin a quick hug.

He looked up and smiled, standing up. “Alright, let’s head out.” We made our way to the door, Matt grabbing his coat, and walked outside to his car.

The drive was easy and relaxed, just the two of us talking about random things. We discussed what we needed for the dorm. It was a comfortable silence in between the chatter.

When we finally pulled up to my house, I turned to Matt and smiled, “Thanks for bringing me home,” I said, feeling a warmth in my chest. “I had a really good time.”

He looked over at me, the car engine still idling, and for a moment, there was a long pause. His eyes met mine, and I could feel the tension building between us. Without really thinking about it, I leaned over and kissed him, my lips pressing against his with a softness that quickly turned into something more.

The kiss deepened as Matt grabbed my face, pulling me closer, and I felt my heart race. When we finally pulled apart, breathless, he leaned back slightly, his eyes dark with something I couldn’t quite place. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for weeks now,” he murmured, his voice low and full of desire.

I smiled at him, my lips tingling from the kiss. “Well, I guess it’s about time then,” I said softly, running my hand over his cheek.

I paused for a second, feeling a spark of boldness. “You wanna come inside? Maybe stay the night?” I asked, my heart pounding, unsure of what he might say.

Matt hesitated, looking at me for a moment, before his lips curled into a smirk. “Are you sure? You know I’m not gonna leave after that,” he teased,

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, my voice quieter now. “I want you to stay.”

He leaned over and kissed me again, this time with even more urgency, and I felt a rush of excitement. “Alright, I’m in,” 

We both got out of the car, and I led him inside, “Dad, is it ok if Matt stays the night? We want to just watch a movie and chill in my room?” I asked my dad who was sitting on the couch watching his own movie.

“Sure, Matt. Watch yourself in this house.” I rolled my eyes knowing my dad fully didn't care.

“Of course sir” I grabbed Matt's hand dragging him towards the stairs excited to have him to myself for the night.

Tag -

@namelesssav @christmastreecake

@chrisstopherfilmed @mattsturnii @sturnrc @larnieboox88

@tbfaptbfae @2muchofaslvt @sturnioloshottiekay

@rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @realuvrrr @sophia-77n @ch0llies

[starsfic]

Monkie Kid prompt:

Nezha discusses his sacrifice against the dragon king with MK after the events of the pillar

(He seems like the right person to talk to about this with MK)

Anon: nezha seeing mk was yet another prophecy child of chaos, that would sacrifice himself for his family sake. He wishes he'd have listened to the group sooner, maybe they could of avoided that heartbreaking outcome had he just helped them from the beginning

Nezha’s death had never been discussed in the family since their welcome to the celestial court.

Some part of it may have been because they all had different things to do and stayed far from each other. Nezha had certainly made sure he was never really alone with Li Jing since then. It may have also been because that was what had been expected of him. Nezha had shamed the family, put their home at risk, and enraged the gods. 

If killing himself would deal with the problem…

Nezha absently wondered if, at least he and his brothers talked about it, he would stop having nightmares about it.

Qi Xiaotian was ready to have nightmares, he could tell.

In the aftermath of whatever happened at the pillar, Sun Wukong and his little band had gathered at the pig’s noodle shop. Nezha hung outside, unsure whether to knock or just go away. The windows were open, allowing him a peek inside the building.

Most of the mortals were talking, doing this and that, setting up the table or making food. A fresh pot of tea was being poured by the demon with the cat, Mo, who seemed content to just sit and watch, right next to Qi Xiaotian.

He was the only one sitting and seemed to be by himself, despite the room being filled with people. As Nezha watched, he could see at least one person look at him, try to smile, and look away, wiping away tears. Wukong looked visibly haunted as he cut and diced vegetables and fruits, wearing a loose hanfu Nezha hadn’t seen him wear in years. 

It only made the guilt in his chest sour even more.

Nezha crept to the door carefully and pushed the bamboo aside. His eyes met Xiaotian, who gave a start. “Nezha?”

It was enough for everyone to whirl around, teeth bared. He immediately held up his hands at the sight of Wukong and the knife. He knew, logically, that his friend-not-friend would never actually stab him, but Wukong’s glamor on his eyes was dropped and he was clearly upset and the logical thing at that to do was put his hands up. “Can I speak with you? In private?”

“No,” the pig said as Xiaotian said “Sure.”

“Kid-”

“If he does anything, you’ll probably hear,” Xiaotian said, standing up and picking up Mo. “I promise, I’m not going to do something stupid.”

Nezha’s mouth went dry at the words.

…It was more than he ever got.

Xiaotian walked out and led him to the mouth of an alleyway next to the shop. Mo squeezed his way out of his arms and settled on his shoulder, meowing at Nezha until he pet him. “I thought you were in Heaven already,” the mortal man said. “What brings you around?”

“You should go to therapy.”

The minute he said it, he was tempted to bang his head against the nearest wall. It was there, it was just a step away. He didn’t even give a hello! Xiaotian blinked, gaping at him. “Excuse me?”

“I- You should go to therapy,” Nezha said, deciding to dig down. “I…I’m starting therapy because when you offered to sacrifice yourself, I agreed with you.” He felt his hands clenched. “If I was in your place, I would have done it without a thought.”

“Then why do you make it sound like it’s a bad thing?” Xiaotian asked, not unkindly. “It’s the world.”

“Sometimes the world isn’t enough,” Nezha said, his thoughts scrambling together. “I killed myself to save my village.” Xiaotian’s eyes went wide, but he didn’t look surprised. It was, after all, an important part of his story, right next to the slaying of Ao Bing. “I thought, when I was resurrected, that I would be at peace or at least determined.” There was no regret, even now, and Nezha knew that wasn’t normal.

Xiaotian blinked. “But you just felt tired,” he guessed, drawing attention to the grey under his eyes.

“Yes,” Nezha nodded. Some urge seized him and he reached up, squeezing Xiaotian’s other shoulder. Mo reached out to sniff it. “You and I are a lot alike. I…worry that we may be similar in this as well. So, please.”

The warmth of the home seemed to increase.

“For the people who love you, take care of yourself.”

[darkfalcone]

Tara's Girl

pairing: amber freeman x reader; tara carpenter x reader

warnings: noncon, forced oral sex, finger sucking. Spit Kink

summary: amber makes her move, noticing that tara and you aren’t talking.

request: Hey! Can I request Amber x fem reader non con smut please

a/n: reposting here because i'm no longer writing dark fics on my main

You sat next to Wes, not bothering to watch whatever movie was on the TV. All you wanted to do was go home - Tara and you had a fight on the way to Wes’ place. Tara sat next to Amber, refusing to acknowledge you with her eyes glued to the screen.

You sighed, getting up out of your seat. You walked into the kitchen, needing some space from everyone. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe. The fight was over something fun and Tara had every right to be angry. You poured yourself some more Sprite, trying to take your mind off your girlfriend.

You jumped as you looked up to see Amber in the doorway. You pulled your phone out and began to scroll through Twitter. As soon as you did, Amber grabbed your phone from you.

“Everything okay, (Your Name)?” she asked, setting your phone on the counter.

You reached for it, but withdrew your hand when she smacked it. You glared at her, unsure as to why she did it.

“What the-“ you began.

“I asked you what was wrong.” Amber said sternly.

“Tara and I had a fight, okay?” you snapped, finishing your drink.

You walked past her, only to be stopped by her pulling you back by your shirt. You weren’t sure as to what exactly she wanted. Amber was a lot closer to Tara, so why was she interested in you all of a sudden?

“Let go of my shirt, Am.” You said, but Amber didn’t budge. Her grip got tighter as she pulled you in closer.

“Why are you in such a rush, (Your Name)? It’s not like you’re going back out there to cuddle up with Tara.” Amber smirked.

You glared at her, slapping her hand away to get her to let go of your shirt. You were angry now, unsure as to why Amber would say something like that towards you. Of course you couldn’t just go cuddle with Tara, but she didn’t need to say anything along those lines.

“You should dump her,” Amber stated. “I’ll be honest with you… I’ve always had a thing for you since you started dating Tara. But what really made me want you was on that camping trip last month. I was up late at night, and I could hear all the sounds you were making. How you were begging Tara to let you come and god… I knew then and there that I wanted you.”

Amber took a step forward, pushing you up against the counter. She leaned in, kissing you on the lips. It was rough and unpleasant, causing you to slap Amber across the face.

“What the actual fuck?!” You snapped.

Amber smile, grabbing you by the neck and squeezing roughly. “Now that wasn’t very nice, was it?”

”Fuck you,” you spat.

“Such a mouth, I’m going to have to teach you some manners,” she sighed, licking her lips. “I think you need to apologize to me now.”

“What? No, you kissed me.” you snapped. “I’m telling Tara what you did.”

Amber laughed at your threat. “Go ahead. She won’t believe you.”

“She would-“ you began, but Amber cut you off by pushing you down to your knees by your neck. She removed her hand - unbuckling her belt with both hands as she kept her eyes glued on you.

Amber looked up, jumping slightly as she noticed Wes walk past the kitchen. She unzipped her jeans, pulling them down hurriedly. Her underwear soon followed.

“You’re going to apologize for slapping me, (Your Name),” she said, grabbing you by your hair. Pulling you closer to her pussy. “Go on, kiss it.”

You shook your head, keeping your mouth shut tight. You weren’t going to do this - you loved Tara. Amber huffed, growing frustrated with your act of defiance. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way, you choose.”

She gave you a few seconds to decide, but you still refused to. She sighed, “Very well then.”

Pushing your face into her pussy, you had no choice but to do what she wanted. Sliding your tongue into her right away, you silently hoped someone would come in and stop what she was forcing you to do. Amber fucked your tongue, holding your head in place as she did all the work. She wanted to be quick, not wanting anyone to walk in on the two of you.

She continued, fucking your face as she got closer to her orgasm. Amber pulled your face away from her pussy, allowing you sometime to breathe. After a minute, Amber pushed your face back into her pussy. “That’s it, good girl.” she praised, which caused you to feel sick to your stomach.

“I don’t think you’re Tara’s girl anymore, baby,” she teased, causing tears to well up in your eyes. “You’re mine, but don’t you worry… with a mouth like yours I’ll take real good care of you.”

You tried to pull away, but Amber kept you in place. “Don’t- fuck, don’t pull away. I’m close.” Amber moaned, fucking your face once more. She came with a grunt, pulling away from you once she was satisfied.

“Open your mouth,” she instructed, and you shook your head. Amber rolled her eyes, pinching your nose and holding it until you opened your mouth. Leaning down, Amber spat in your mouth. “Hold it. I want you to hold it until I say swallow. Understood?”

You nodded, patiently waiting for her to let you swallow. You felt sick to your stomach, wanting nothing more than for her to leave you alone. You wanted to make up with Tara and tell her what Amber had done to you.

“Good girl for waiting, you can swallow now.” she smiled. You did as you were told, hoping she was done with you now.

You jumped as she shoved three fingers into your mouth unexpectedly. “Hey Tara,” she said, smiling at your girlfriend. “Do you want something to drink?”

Your eyes widened, trying to pull Amber’s fingers out of your mouth. You knew you could make noise, but you knew Amber would make an excuse for it.

“Hey, and no. I’m actually looking for (Your Name), have you seen her?” Tara asked.

Amber shook her head, “I have not. Maybe she left?”

Tara sighed, “Let me know if you see her.”

Amber gave her a small smile, “Of course.”

As soon as Tara was out of sight, Amber pulled her fingers out of your mouth. She stayed quiet as she pulled her pants back up and you watched as she buckled her belt. You stayed on the ground, tears running down your face.

“If you tell Tara about this, I promise you that she won’t ever believe you,” she laughed. “I’m her best friend and I’ve known her for years.”

You stayed silent, biting your lip as hard as you could. The taste of Amber’s pussy still lingered, causing you to gag.

“I’d clean yourself up before you join us again, wouldn’t want anyone to get suspicious.” Was all she said before making her way out of the kitchen. You hurried to the bathroom, making sure no one had seen you. Gasping, you turned on the water. Washing your face off to make yourself presentable, hoping Tara wanted to make up.

You were Tara’s girl after all.

[hell-drabbles]

Lucifer 5

Summary: Lucifer, compared to the other devil kings, tends to keep his distance, often preferring to be alone with his thoughts, ever observing what's going on around him. With you, however, you noticed he's been getting closer.

(More Companion and Lucifer intimacy! Been a long while. I wonder what other intimate moments between the Companion and Lucifer I should write?)

Of all beings, you never thought Lucifer would get caught up in your rhythm. Every other devil king you've met has been a storm of their own, a being that walks forward and expects everything and everyone to follow without a single question. They take pride in that, so much so that it leads to constant clashes with all the other kings around them.

All the other kings, save for Lucifer. He and the other devils share the title of kings, and are all collectively known as the seven kings of Hell, but that's about where the similarities end.

You can't say that the other devils treat Lucifer with respect, so much as they just generally leave him to his own devices, as though any attempt to butt heads with him was just not worth it. It's… almost a kind of caution, an awareness that so long as they don't directly challenge him, then Lucifer won't say a thing. It's almost the same social distance they give Asmodeus.

You can't say you're shocked, those two don't exactly think, nor carry themselves in the way the other devil kings do.

That being said, it was very easy to notice the way Lucifer was always one step closer to you than others. How he's taken to always face you with his entire body whenever you talked, no matter how he had to adjust his seat or posture. How, whenever you take a walk through Paradise Lost, Lucifer would eventually drift by and walk with you. Whatever you do, Lucifer was bound to not be too far behind.

And so here you both are, near a tree that Lucifer was just napping under until you walked by and paused to give him time to rouse himself. You didn't need to say anything. You both knew he was going to walk with you. It's routine by this point.

Lucifer walked past the usual distance he'd keep with others. He stopped right before you, shoes almost touching yours. You both nodded in greeting, then simply stood still, enjoying the gentle whistling of the wind and the calm flow of your breathing.

"Huh, you like being near me." It's not really a question, simply a statement of fact. No need to be a tease or coy about it. Why bother making a game out of it when the reward was right there for the taking?

"I do," he said, with that rare, gentle smile of his, barely there but too big a change to ever ignore. Of course he wouldn't mince his words.

"You find comfort in a human like me." You didn't lean away nor yearned to put distance between the both of you. Instead, you uncrossed your arms and upturned your palms. As though you've both done this thousands of times, Lucifer slid his hands against yours. "Weird."

"How so?" Lucifer's face settled into a carefully neutral expression, but you can tell he's just a hair away from frowning. You're sure an expression like that would scare the shit out of Ra-on.

"If you wanted to, I could easily just be another smear on the pavement." And such power brings about the expectation of arrogance, whether intentional or otherwise. All the other devils here, big and small, carried themselves with that air that only became more apparent once your physical limitations were discovered. You've grown used to arrogance and were ready to take it in stride. If not dismissed, you expected to be treated as the most fragile thing in Hell. "And here you are, treasuring me like an equal."

Lucifer didn't set you aside, nor did he insist what you can or can't do. Your anger was not a childish or reckless temper tantrum but a reaction to a problem that he knows must be resolved. For the first time in a long while, you found a piece of yourself relaxing. If you were to nap now, you know you'd wake up without dreading what you'll have to tolerate for that day.

"The place you call home weighs heavily on you," Lucifer closed his eyes, as though trying to imagine your every burden as his thumb stroked your skin, "in much the same way it does for me. Is it wrong to find solace in someone that understands? In someone that needs the quiet as much as I do?"

A short chuckle escaped you as Lucifer leaned in closer, but stopped short of pressing his forehead against yours. "Seems we're both just incredibly lonely, huh? But no, it's not wrong in the least."

"Then, I can assume that we both bring the other joy?" Strands of Lucifer's hair moved to the side as he tilted his head, pretending to be curious even though that smile said he knew what your answer was.

"Joy, huh?" you sighed, and allowed yourself to indulge just this little bit, "Yeah, I guess you can assume that."