#and why when he realises he'll never know the answer he breaks down in “Letting Go”

[deathbyotpin123]

All of this but also I love how the show has been preparing us for these two episodes and Fraser running after the train in the two episodes right before it.

"The Invitation to Romance"

In this episode there is a scene where Katherine and Fraser are talking in the trash truck. While she questions what's wrong with him, Fraser is too distracted by a loose thread from a button. He asks her if she has any scissors, but she tells him to just yank it off. He refuses at first because the button might fall off, but does it when she tells him "It's a button, take a risk!"

He pulls the thread. The button falls off and Fraser is proved to be right in his assumption (and is amused by it). It seems like such a small an insignificant thing but that is the point - if Fraser won't take a risk with a button, how can he do it with greater things?

Katherine: Don't you ever do anything reckless or stupid or wild? Fraser: No. But, uh... No.

They go on to talk more, about being in love with dangerous people, and Fraser reveals he thought he was in love once (with Victoria), but maybe he was just alone.

What's interesting is that at the end of the episode, Katherine appears at the event and asks Fraser for a dance. He declines as he's on duty. Ralking with Ray right after, Fraser notices a loose thread once again, and starts to ask Ray for scissors, because again the button might fall off. But then he takes a moment to steel himself, pulls on it - and everything turns out fine. (This is why he joins Katherine in a dance. Because not all risks end in disasters.)

"Heaven and Earth"

The subplot of this episode is Frannie going around and telling people how she surprised Fraser in his apartment (the end of "The Deal", which is an ep before "Invitation to Romance"). In the ending of this episode, Ray pulls Frannie into the interrogation room to tell her to stop chasing after Fraser because she'll end up hurt.

What neither of them know is that Frasier is in the room behind the mirror, listening in on their conversation.

Francesca (to Ray): "Your problem is that you're so afraid to dream. You are so afraid to reach out for something that you really want. You know what happens to people like you? They get old. They get alone. And they die. And they never know."

While delivered to Ray, I think these words are more intended for Fraser. (What we've seen of Ray in season 1 shows that he's not afraid to dream or reach out for what he wants.)

-

Victoria shows up in Fraser's life right as all of these questions of risks, recklessness, love, loneliness and the possibility of dying without ever knowing are asked. And he decides to for once in his life take a chance.

me every day like: but why did they choose that song to frame victoria's and fraser's relationship??? a song that appears at first glance to be a sort of mysterious love song, albeit with some mildly either ominous and/or bdsm like vibes:

(And I won't be denied

And I would be the one To hold you down Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away And after I Wipe away the tears Just close your eyes dear)

and then you're like "ok, the song is literally called possession, what an interesting not-so-loving sounding title" and then you sleuth and it's literally a song written off the back of being stalked and obsessed over in an unhealthy way

gun to your heads writers, im not reading this dynamic the wrong way, that woman was out to do a violence on that man and if he'd managed to get on the train he'd have been dead within a few months once she grew tired of playing with her food (or once the pedestal she'd put him on was toppled or once she was done with breaking him into pieces or or or...)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

[cinnasweetss]

karmic lover | p.wb

SYNOPSIS: in which you come to wonbin as a karmic lover for all he's done, and continues to do, to julie. now he's forced to imagine you in her place.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: wonbin is the biggest dick on the planet (has the biggest one too), wonbin is in a relationship with julie, oral (m receiving), protected sex, mentions of cheating, reader is not actually involved just mentioned, wonbin is delusional as hell, mentions of wonbin taking readers virginity, other shit I know I'm forgetting to add.

A/N: I can definitely expand on this if need be...I actually just cut this part out of a whole fic I wrote and it made it into a standalone. lollll.

every day, around the clock, even in his dreams, you're all park wonbin can think about. the park wonbin who's known to be the campus' resident dick. literally and figuratively. known cheater and manipulator. especially when it comes to julie.

which is why he's been ignoring her, minus the fact they're supposed to be taking time away from each other.

julie comes in using the key that is for emergencies only. the key that wonbin should've given to sungchan instead. he'll have to get those locks changed eventually.

"Why haven't you answered my texts?" wonbin is everything but happy to see her. wishing she'd go away until he gets the feelings he has for you to go away. "We broke up." it's an exaggeration that makes julie roll her eyes. taking a break and breaking up are two different things. to her at least.

"Won..." she says, inching closer to wrap her arms around his torso. "let's make up, hm? you said you wouldn't do it anymore...I believe you." except he has, he never stopped. doesn't really plan on it either, he knows he only has to swear he'll never do it again for julie to fall right back in his lap. "Hm?"

he only does it because he thinks it'll help him stop thinking about you, that's all it is. that's why he kisses her, caressing her cheek like he did yours. making her get on her knees so he can imagine its you instead. imagine its you pulling him out of his sweats, you pushing his half hard cock past your lips that haven't touched any others but his. you that works and sucks his cock like its the last on earth.

he can imagine it, vividly, just as soon as he shuts his eyes. if he can't see her, he can imagine its you instead. it is you, its you choking on his length as he pushes it past your throat, you gagging around him so much it feels euphoric. he grabs your head, pushing your nose to his navel as he jams into your throat with no mercy. You try and push him away, give yourself room to breathe, but he won't let up.

not when he realizes its julie instead of the woman he wants it to be.

he pulls out of her mouth, pulling her over to his bedroom just a few feet away, and shoving her on his bed. the bed where he had you just a few nights before. writhing and squirming underneath him as he took your innocence.

he rips her out of her clothes, pulling her out her matching set that he didnt waste a single second looking at. a matching set that you wouldn't even put on. its quick, flipping her over so she bares her ass at him, and reaching in his nightstand to pull a condom on.

he needs to move quick, keep you in his head before he realises its julie, before he has a chance to get soft. he stuffs himself in her without a word. "Bin!" she cries, back arching just the way he likes it, back arching to where he can easily grab ahold of her hips and jam his cock into her. "missed this pussy...so much." it's for you, but it's okay if she hears it because right now she is you. he's able to slip back into imagining its you, and its so real.

"fuck, y/- julie. shit. just like that." her name tastes bitter in his mouth even though he's said it many of times before he met you. "baby! oh, god!" she's so oblivious wonbin feels a little bad for her. but not for long. only because her continuous outburst are pulling him from his fantasy.

he has to bend down and place his hand over his mouth to quiet her because she sounds nothing like you. this way he can ignore the muffled moans as he continues to use her. using her to get himself off because he can't have you. you're supposed to stay the girl he cheated on his girlfriend with. nothing more. you're not supposed to take Julie's place.

[http-tokki]

am i nice to you?

~ bakugou katsuki x fem!reader ~ tags/cw: aged up bakugou, angst, drunk reader, unrequited love, established friendships, ~ wc: 1k ~ And I sit on the curb 'cause it's the prettiest night, With no one else in sight - Drunk Walk Home : Mitski ~ "Why doesn't he like me?" "Cause he's an idiot."

Part one is here x

Bakugou finds you sitting on the curb in the middle of the night while coming home from the gym. He hadn't known it was you when he stopped; he just stopped because what kind of person is he if he drove past a woman sitting in the gutter? But as he shouts at you from within his car, he realises who you are. 

"Why didn't you call me?" he pulls up the park break. "I gave you my number for this exact reason!"

"Bakugou?" your voice is hoarse. 

"Yes, we’ve done this bit before now why are you outside!?"

Katsuki throws open his door but reaches back into the car and retrieves a jacket. He doesn't check for traffic as he steps into the street, gait purposeful in order to reach you before you're swept into the night. You sniff again, using your hand to wipe at the tears that have frozen to your skin and by the time you look up again, he is standing above you with a jacket held out.

"Why are you in the street?" his tone gruff.

"Because the stars are out and i wanted to go star gazing." You lie.

And he stares at you, right brow raising in question. You stare back, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you fight a frown. He notices your dress, pretty and black but way too short to be worn in the dead of winter, and then your tiny handbag and high heels that had been kicked off. 

"Are you-" 

You burst into tears, unable to hold them back and cry into your hands. 

Katsuki winces, unable to deal with emotion, but for you, he'll try. Crouching down to your level, he wraps his jacket around your shoulders and sits beside you on the dirty curb. He doesn't know how to do this and has never needed to comfort someone before, but you desperately need someone, so he sits there while you cry. He lets you lean your head on his chest and cry until you're wheezing. 

"Okay, you need to stop." Katsuki frowns, pushing at your shoulders. "you're going to hyperventilate." 

You don't stop. 

Falling back into the grass, you cry into the night sky. Blubbered words are shouted into the sky, heartbroken sobs echoing through the desolate street as you empty your soul to the universe and classmate sitting beside you. 

"Why doesn't he like me?" you ask quietly, hurt in every word. 

"Cause he's an idiot," Bakugou replies, knowing you hadn't asked him the question, but he has the answer. 

"You don't even know who I'm talking about." your retort is slurred. 

"I know it's the guy you wore this all for." he lightly kicks your bare foot. "He's stupid."

This is his attempt at comfort. 

"He is stupid", you agree, tone lifting slightly. "but he's so nice to me." you sigh, hands clutching the dress at your chest. 

"You're crying in the street; how nice can he actually be?" Bakugou frowns, bending forward to pick up your shoes and bag from the gutter. "Come on, I'll drive you home." 

You shake your head and sniff. "I don't want to go."

Katsuki knows you're drunk, knows you're probably gonna hurl anytime soon, but he needs to get you out of the cold before your fingers and toes freeze off. He turns to you, bag and shoes in one hand and reaches for your shoulder. 

"Come on, let's go." he encourages you to sit, hand slipping between your shoulder and the grass below, but you don't move. 

"Can you just sit with me?" Katsuki has never heard anyone sound so small, so torn apart. "Please, 'Suki." 

Bakugou pauses at the nickname. 

"You're going to get frostbite." He mutters, dropping your belongings in favour of tugging his jumper up and over his head to drape over you as you lay on the earth. 

You look at him, a frown etched into your pretty face and tears welling in your red eyes. His heart breaks at how pathetically gorgeous you look. How, even after sobbing your eyes out, you can still manage to hold him in the palm of your hand and bend him to your every whim. 

"Five minutes" is the answer to your plea, and he lies beside you. 

Shoulder to shoulder, you rest on the road verge and stare into space. Katsuki can hear your sniffles from beside him and feel your body move with each shaking breath. He doesn't know what else to do, how else to comfort you in a platonic way, how else to make everything go away, so he does what he thinks he should do. 

Slipping an arm under your shoulders, he hauls you into his embrace, and when no protest comes from you, he guides your body to lay against his. He lays your head against his chest, your arms following his instructions to wrap around his chest and legs tangling with his; you feel warm. Warmer than you've felt in a while. Bakugou's hands glide up to the base of your neck, sliding into your hair and anchoring in the roots. 

You lift your head to face him and find him looking down at you. The hand not in your hair skims over your jaw, cupping your face with a gentleness you never knew possible. You had never been held like this, with such tenderness and reverence as if you were something out of this world. 

A shaky sigh leaves you.

"Am I nice to you?" Katsuki asks softly.

You nod. 

Katsuki ghosts his thumb over your cheek, swiping up the remnants of the tears that escaped your diligent wiping. You stare up at him, galaxies swirling within your glassy eyes, and it takes everything in him not to lean in and kiss you. His muscles tighten at the impulse, soul pushing him forward to make contact, to seal the fate of your friendship into something more with a simple peck, but he can't. He can't make that move after you have poured your heart out to him. It wouldn't be fair. So, he pulls back from you. Breaking contact and sitting up to collect your things. 

"Five minutes is up", he murmurs, returning to collect you. "Let's go"

He watches your face fall, hope fading from your eyes as you sit up. 

God, he was an idiot. 

a/n: the way i relate to this song is unreal. I remember sitting on the side of the road once throwing up and crying my eyes up all because a guy I liked didn't like me back but I didn't have bakugou come and get me, I had to pick myself up and walk to the train station alone lmao

[a-french-coconut]

Travis Stoll (Part 12)

In his life, Travis saw his father a total of two times.

At the winter solstice party and on Olympus after the battle of Manhattan.

Both times, it had been a particularly awkward conversation.

He expects this one to be the same.

"Hi dad, thank you for coming I guess ? You really didn't have to though, a pegasus or something would have sufficed."

He thinks he sees something akin to hurt flashing in Hermes' eyes.

It can't be, the guy can't think that after eighteen years of almost total absence, it would normal for him to pop up like that.

Silence hovers for two good minutes before Hermes finally remembers that a conversation is something that requires two willing participants.

"It's alright, I have a little time before going to work again."

No you don't

Yeah, Aphrodite wants her new fragrance right now boss

"Hey George and Martha, I don't any rats for you guys, sorry."

Two groans of disappointment echo in his head, making him chuckle.

"Tell Aphrodite to wait, I'm pressed with more urgent matters right now." Hermes orders to George and Martha.

"So, hum, are you going to teleport to Camp ? Or maybe give me a ride ?", He tentatively asks, not sure about why Hermes is still here.

"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk."

Talk ?

When time is flying and Connor is getting closer and closer to death ?

"Can't this wait ? Connor's life is literally a matter of time."

"Oh, don't worry, you'll make it in time," says Hermes dismissing his concerns, "I just want to have a nice conversation with you, a father to a son ?"

For the first time, Travis feels anger towards Hermes.

"Don't worry ? My brother is dying ! You have waited eighteen years, you can wait a couple of hours more !" He snaps, not caring at that moment that he is talking to a god.

"I'm your father and I-"

"No ! Don't call me that, you don't deserve it. Do you know how many times I prayed to you, asked you to help Connor and me ? I didn't need a big gesture, just a sign that you cared." His voice breaks, all the emotions he guarded for so long getting out all together, "You want to be father ? Bring me to Connor now and I'll talk with you all the time you want after. Just...just let me make sure he's safe first. I can't lose him."

He's feeling raw, vulnerable and he's pretty sure he's going to get blasted for screaming at a god, basically calling him an atrocious father.

He braces himself for what awaits him, maybe he'll get turned to a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, too fast, but a slug. Now that's a good punishment, he'll be a disgusting slimy creature until some toddler decides to step on him out of pure curiosity.

He is not ready for his father's arms surrounding him, for the warmth he emits.

With an absent father and an alcoholic mother, there hasn't been real parental figures for Travis. He has never known a mother's protecting and kind embrace, a dad throwing him on his shoulder, walking with him head upside down and laughing.

He thought that he didn't need that, how could he missed something he never knew ?

When he hugs back his father fiercely, not caring of the tears wetting his father's postman uniform, he realises how much he had been craving it.

"I'm, hum, sorry about that," he sniffles, "I shouldn't blown like that, I don't know what happened but-"

"I'm the one who should apologise, Travis." Hermes cuts him off, looking at him with sadness.

"You are right, I have no right to call myself your father, I have done nothing to deserve it. I will bring you to Connor but I want you to know this." Hermes looks right into his eyes, "You have become an incredible demigod, a true son of mine and I couldn't be more proud than the way you care for your family, Travis."

"Thanks, dad." He answers with a strangled voice, "We'll talk with Connor once he's safe and sound right ?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only Stoll to deserve a hug." His father jokes, a little smile gracing his features.

"I don't think Aphrodite is going to like that."

"I'll give her a discount, she'll be fine. Now come on, close your eyes."

Hermes begins glowing and Travis dutifully closes his eyes.

Of course Hermes is big softie for his children (:

But you know, he's still a god, nothing like a good reality check to show him that he deserves worst dad award.

[hmshermitcraft]

Bdubs is an ordinary gardener. He isn't the greatest, he isnt the worse, he's just average. In fact, barely anyone pays attention to him.

But, one day, that all changes. After his shift is finally over, a co-worker, by the name of Etho, invites him out.

Bdubs expects Erho to know where they're going, but truthfully, Etho doesn't. They end up in an alleyway, gloomy and mysterious.

It would be an ordinary alleyway, just like Bdubs.

But it's not.

A luminous, amethyst-coloured light glows intensely. Its so bright that both of the gardeners have to shield there eyes. But that doesn't stop them seeing a huge creature - several eyes and huge, purple wings - enter the portal. Its like a watcher, a nightmarish story that mothers would tell their children to make them stay in bed at night. But that is as all it's. A story...

Right?

Either way, Bdubs is terrified. Etho is, too, but his mask and acting skills do a pretty good job of hiding it. The shorter florist is shaking violently, gripping onto him tightly. An uncomfortable silence fills the air, but Bdubs' ears are ringing so loudly that - if he hears another sound - he thinks he'll explode.

Etho doesn't know what to do. Does he go and tell the police? No, nobody will believe him without photographic evidence. And this man he barely knows is shaking so violently that he's sure that Bdubs will faint.

"Let's go," he mumbles numbly, directing Bdubs back out the alley. "Call me tomorrow, and we can... discuss"

He hands Bdubs a slip of paper with his number and address on it, but he stays with the shorter until he has fully recovered from the shock.

"Ok," he whispers.

And they go their superate ways.

Neither of them really know how to discuss it. It was a terrible start to a night out, that's for sure. And Etho still doesn't know what compelled him to go down that alleyway. He's never been there before, so why now? Why with Bdubs?

Their discussion doesn't yield many answers. Etho went back to the alleyway and it was normal. No portal, no strange creature. Whatever was there that night is gone now. Not a single trace. They agree to go out together on their lunch break, instead. In the sunlight, where monsters are less likely to hide.

It's several nights later when Etho is woken by banging on his door. He's immediately on the defensive, grabbing the closest thing he can use as a weapon (it's... His flashlight. Better than nothing.) But when he peers through the door, he finds Bdubs. A very panicked Bdubs.

He pulls the other in, whilst he apologizes for waking Etho up in the middle of the night but he didn't know where else to go and he still had that paper in his pocket-

Etho gets them both a glass of water, forcing himself to wake up.

Bdubs explains, through wild gestures that have Etho gently moving the glass away, how he was woken up in the middle of the night. Outside his window was that bright, purple glow, just like they saw in the alleyway. And everywhere he looked in the darkness, he swore he could see eyes. Looking at him, all of them staring at him. He freaked out, naturally, because what else do you do in that situation? And in his panic ran out of the building before he even realised what he was doing.

Thankfully, the paper was in the pocket of the hoodie he happened to be wearing. He hadn't even thought to pick his phone up, so he just struggled along until he was able to find Etho's house.

Neither of them know what to make of this. Eventually, Bdubs has calmed down enough to sleep, and he's exhausted. Etho tries to insist that he take the bed, but Bdubs refuses to go down without a fight. That fight turns out to be dragging Etho into the bed with him and clinging to him.

Something is for sure though. Whatever they saw that night, it saw them too.

[cemetery-irises]

I think I've been infected I need to see gravekeeper scream himself hoarse and kick and beg and break only to be comforted right after with a softness that doesn't compute right in his brain after what he's just done.

I want to see him collapse after breaking his room to pieces, clinging to the one thing that helped him and protected him and cut him all these years. I want the realisation of what he's just done to fade in slowly, to come in fragments that he needs to put together through his addled mind.

I want him to, just for a moment, feel pure. Feel relieved that the demons are out of his head, before realising that he's acted more monstrous than ever. Though what does it matter? From the voices he can hear swimming around his broken ears, he knows he's dying.

He wants to be let out of the firm grip holding him, to be left to die alone as he should be. But something in him feels warm from all the attention. He can rest now. It's alright. He'll try... to reach salvation...

He wakes up somewhere. It's not heaven, or hell, or anything in-between. It's disgustingly familiar. There's words thrumming in his head, more legible now as they close in on him. He knows the man grasping his hand with a strange tenderness, but he doesn't have the energy to think of their name. They give him something to drink. It's warm, and it doesn't taste like water. Strange.

They talk at him for a while, before he closes his eyes as he leans into the hands now placed on his face. They ask a question. He responds with a plea. He wants to fall back into his dreams, to not have to face the fact he needs to live more, to not have to think about why the man in front of him is so strangely sad at his tiredness. What comes out is not any of those things.

"P-Please... let me sleep... a little longer... 'm so tired... won't be... long... promise..."

So the man does just that. Lets him lay there, in their hands, until sleep takes him again. He hears a faint sound, like dripping water, as he does.

His head is a little clearer when he wakes up again. He stares at the ceiling, giving up on any hope of salvation. He wants to drift off to sleep again, but something in the back of his head says he shouldn't. He promised. Whatever that means.

There's something wrapped around his arm as it hangs off of the bed. Someone's fingers trace the edges of what he thinks is gauze up and down, spiralling around over and over again.

He tries to wiggle his fingers. The tracing stops. So he pulls his arm away to inspect it, reaching it above him so he can see. He was right. It is gauze. Why? What happened to...?

His thoughts are cut off by a burst of dizzying movement from the side of him. He lays his arm back down, tired eyes now watching the glassy ones of Luca Balsa as they stare in shock. Oh... This is their room, isn't it? Why is he here?

His questions are yet again snapped away as Luca slings their arms around him. The flock of stumbling apologies spoken by Luca as they haul Andrew's aching body into a sitting position hit his ears all at once. He doesn't see why they need to apologise, but he's more focused on something else.

Luca is quite close to him now, refusing to let their darting eyes off him for even a second. Even with his bad eyes, Andrew can see just how sick they look. Their eyes are ringed in red and purple, their hands are shaky as they hold Andrew's shoulders oh so tenderly, and the smile accompanying their giggly words (that now sound much softer) is giddy and strained and broken. They look like they could collapse any second.

But Andrew can't dwell long. Soon questions start to come, and he's left rummaging in his brain for answers. Yes, he does feel tired. No, he won't go to sleep if Luca doesn't want him to so badly. What do you mean he's been sleeping for...

Oh... That's... Much longer than he thought... He's so sorry, he should have never given into—

"I-it's okay, it's fine, you're awake, you're here, every- everything is gonna be okay, please don't leave me like this, p- ple- please please please-"

Luca clings to Andrew like how he used to cling to his mother. He feels like he's just been punched in the throat. He's- he left Luca (his protector, the one that must have taken care of him all this time) alone for so long, without realising.... God, he can't do anything right-

The door to the side of them opens suddenly, making him jump a little. He sees Emil poke their head out from behind it, before smiling. The smile seems happier than usual. Andrew doesn't know why, or why they're smiling at all. Shouldn't they be angry at him for what he did to both of them?

Luca's already starting to talk again, but Emil cuts them off quietly, asking if they or Andrew have eaten yet. Luca snaps up at this, and tells Andrew to stay where he is and to not fall asleep while he's gone before diving out of the room faster than Andrew can process.

Andrew is left alone with Emil, who is thankfully much easier for his brain to handle. Their hands (a saviour's hands, hands that have purified him once and now they will again) wander over his shoulder, twisting his hair around.

Emil talks about Luca. How he had been so upset, so scared for Andrew. How he'd given Andrew gauze so he could know they won't be hurt again.

(Andrew remembers the night his mother died well. That was one of the first things he tried.)

Emil says he's happy that Luca will be alright again. Andrew nods in response. He doesn't know how to word an apology for all of this, but Emil understands. Of course they do. They know him better than he knows himself.

They sit in silence for a while, Andrew making sure to keep himself awake for Luca, before he hears footsteps down the hall rushing towards the door. Emil goes to meet them.

Luca is back. He's brought toasted bread with him, for them all to eat. He's also brought... someone else.

Andrew had never met Alva before. He'd heard things about the man, and they were mostly good things even if they stirred doubt in his mind. He can't stop himself from being nervous, however, when the hunter crouches through the door to the room.

Alva decides sitting on the floor is the best course of action out of the ones available, making sure to leave distance between him and Andrew. (Does he know how nervous they are?)

Andrew is given the bread. Luca seems to be more focused on making sure he eats it than on their own portion, before Alva breaks their attention by starting to talk.

The hunter has a voice that's unmistakably warm. Andrew isn't sure why it makes him feel safer, only that it does. It really does. Andrew can hear him gently questioning Luca, and after finishing his bread finds himself entranced in their conversation.

That conversation soon shifts onto him, as Alva asks what happened. There's no judgment in their question, no lingering hatred or anything to be afraid of. It's just... Soft.

Andrew can't stop himself from rambling, then. He tries to answer as much as he can as his head swims with memories so deep that he barely realises what he's saying.

He was possessed. He'd been possessed for weeks before it happened. Endless visions and voices of demon and ghost and "angel" had tugged at him until his delicate mind fractured. He was desperate to kill the demons clawing at his chest, wandering in his room, burrowing under his skin. It had all been a nasty trick to make him hurt himself. That was the reason.

Alva's smile looks solemn, hearing Andrew's explanation. He says it must have been hellish. They can assure him it was. They could smell the sulphur, see the glowing red, and feel the blood sticky on his fingers. But they don't say anything in response, because that would make the three men in the room pity him even more.

Alva asks something strange, then. "Is it alright if I touch you?" Andrew doesn't know why he has to wait for permission, Andrew's been grabbed in almost every way in his life and they've never asked. But he gives a go-ahead anyway.

The hands that comfort him remind him overwhelmingly of his mother. They're bigger than his own, scarred and wrinkled like hers must have been. Of course, the affection those hands were now giving him helped quite a lot with that.

Andrew finds himself leaning into them, as they seemingly knew he would. Luca is talking again, although Andrew doesn't hear. Alva says he'll wake Andrew up when needed if they fall asleep. Luca doesn't need to worry. How nice of him to do that for Andrew's friend...

Andrew, leaning into the closest thing to his mother's touch in years, dwells on how he doesn't know why or even how he's been saved. Surely the two men who'd been taking care of him for so long would have been a target of these demons too?

...Unless they were something holy. That sounded right. After all, they've purified him more times than he could count...

He decides to think further on it when he wakes up. For now, he needs to relax. To sink into that warmth... just for... a little while...

ahh i love when i get fanfiction in my inbox

this is so so pretty ollie oh my god

[tadpolesonalgae]

im going to be honest with you im so lost with teeth and talons. rhysand is a god and so is lucien but azriel is a demon? and elain was turned like mc was but she's not a demon? and azriel wasn't neglecting her, he literally kidnapped her and now it's his fault mc is going crazy? was she already his mate when she was human?

(Small acowar spoilers below!)

Sorry yeah I guess it’s probably even more confusing with the upload times 😭

So Rhys is a god (instead of High Lord), Lucien is the son of a god (since he’s from Beron/Helion), and Elain was turned into a demon but she uses her powers to do her work as a priestess—she could still turn into some horrifying hell beast if she wanted to :)

With the neglect, I’d argue Azriel was really quite cruel to her at times…?

For example, this scene from Chapter 4:

‘You peer up at him, arms wrapping across your chest, keeping your nightclothes in your hands. “‘Thank me'?” You echo, voice shaking. "For what?" You swear something like amusement gleams in his eyes as he leans down, so he can stare at you. "For bringing you to a river instead of dumping you in some frozen wasteland for the beasts to fight over."

Then his wings are pulling away, shadows retracting back to him, light returning to your skin.

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and feel yourself fracture. The tiniest break, splitting along your vertebrae. Your lips part slightly, vision blurring with painful confusion. He's so... volatile. You can never tell what mood he's in. Whether he'll be nice to you, let you nestle into his fur when he shifts to sleep, or whether he'll snarl and snap, degrade and punish you until your pieces are lying scattered across the ground.’

Chapter 6:

‘He doesn’t remind you of your belief that he’s forced you to reside with him in hell. That would cause too many questions, and he quite likes knowing you won’t try to escape, if only for fear of what lies beyond the castle floor which he holds you in.’

This scene from Chapter 7:

‘He leans closer, hot breath curling with his lip. "Why did you open the door?"

"I thought it was you," you stammer softly, peering at him beseechingly. He snarls at that, as if insulted. "How stupid can you be?" You reel back at the harsh words, staring.

"It had your eyes," you mumble, blinking back tears as you attempt to steady your breathing,

"I thought it was you. Don't call me stupid."

Just like that, he surges forward, tipping you backward onto the stone floor, pinning you down. His lip curls back from his teeth, then they're sinking into your neck. Words and sound are ripped from your conscious as pain lashes through you. It's not like before, not when it sent aching pleasure singing in your blood. This is punishing—agonising stinging. Muscles seize, fingers tremble, eyes wide. Your back arches into him at the onslaught of blazing brutality he's stamping into your skin.’

And this from Chapter 8 where she makes it quite clear she doesn’t want to be around him anymore:

‘He's on top of you, chaining you to the mattress as if it's a torture bed.

You need me. The words tumble freely into your mind, stretching across that strange thread that he's sewed to your soul. You need me to live.

You weakly shake your head, but it's little more than a tilt of your chin. "No..”

His hand settles on the pillow, and that strange pulse of energy washes through you. The bone-deep chill subsides, as if warmed by his power. As if in answer. What has he done?

If you don't undergo the Ritual, you will die, he says, in that strange, wordless way of his. You give him a look that you hope him to understand as, I will be happy to cross over, and be rid of you. By the way he stiffens, you think he does.’

Yes there were also moments where he took care of her, (the end of Chapter 8) but he made some pretty bad mistakes (like not telling her anything about the Ritual) which she still has every right to be furious about once she realises—which is what Elain is trying to get her to do.

End of chapter 8:

‘The thump of your heart grows weaker by the second, despite the increasingly frequent pulses of magic that thrum through your skin. Take the Ritual, and then you can return here. Remain as long as you like. Until the citadel falls to dust, and the rivers become lakes; become oceans. Remain forever, but take the Ritual, so you can see it all, and live.

If you didn't know better, you would say he sounds pleading. But you can hardly string one thought to the next, so you don't. Instead, you latch onto that final flicker he's shielding from the weight of the world, and nod.’

Chapter 9:

‘His dark eyes flick down to you, then he shifts you in his arms, lifting and moving you so your legs are tucked around his waist, arms guided gently over his shoulders. If you had the energy, you could purr. Nestle closer into him, feeling the firm press of his chest against your own, the strong muscle lining his body, the soft, silky locks at the nape of his neck.

"Hold on," he murmurs to you, one arm beneath you to keep you up, the other around your back, pressing between your shoulder blades then trailing down to grip your waist. Your spine arches, dipping as his forearm brushes the bone, holding just above your hip.

“I just want it to be over" you whisper onto his skin, head resting on his shoulder, tears blurring your vision. "It will be," he replies quietly. "Just a little longer.”’

Then there’s chapter 6 where he takes her to the holy lands:

‘He’s so close to the ground; you’re certain should he wish it, his talons could till the earth. He’s going so fast, hurtling through the open fields, moving with lethal motion, propelled forward by the powerful, beating muscle that binds his wings. Colour blurs by as you pass over dotted patches of wildflowers, leaving only gusts of wind in your wake, crystal-like water spraying to a fine mist as he shoots across a stream.

A laugh—young and wild and reckless—bursts from your throat. His shadows wrap slightly tighter as your grip loosens on him, allowing you to sit upright—that shield that he’s put in place blocking you from the air that would surely knock you clean from his back.’

Honestly in Teeth and Talons Azriel isn’t supposed to be wholly good or wholly evil, he just is, so I guess it’s up to you to make your own decisions and decide what to make of him :) 🧡💛

[rockitmans]

Blaine Anderson Vs. Valentine's Day (4/14)

Summary: Blaine drunk posts on his Instagram asking for a date for Valentine's Day. He gets one.

Notes: Written for the @klaineccfanficlibrary Valentine Challenge. Today's song is I'll Never Not Love You by Michael Bublé

Be sure to also check out the collection on AO3 and Stick Season by @blurglesmurfklaine I'm finding it so fun to write as part of a community event. Seeing other people post theirs really keeps me on track. And all the lovely comments of course!

Read on AO3 or below

~~~~~~

He can't just leave it like that. Hi. What was he thinking? He quickly taps out a follow up without letting himself doubt it too hard. 

Blaine: Bold tactic to assume that poem would get my attention and not just end up being deleted

He immediately throws his phone face down on his bed and paces around the room several times, trying to breathe. He can do this. He can talk to other humans. Even ridiculously gorgeous ones that for some reason seem interested in him. 

Barely a minute passes before his phone chimes and he tries to tell himself to be chill and not answer straight away but the anticipation is killing him. He grabs his phone. 

Kurt: And yet here you are. Interesting. 

God. He actually answered. And he's so cool . It's going to take him less than thirty seconds to realise how lame Blaine is. Blaine doesn't have game. He doesn't usually even realise when people are into him. He's fallen into every relationship he's had so far fully because the other person has spelled it out to him. 

This was clearly a mistake. A horny error in judgement. He's half tempted to just delete the app right now and pretend this never happened. The Philippines is nice this time of year.  

But then his phone chimes again and Blaine grins stupidly as he reads the message. 

Kurt: It was a gamble. I'm happy it paid off. 

Blaine: Well. It was helped by the fact that I am very interested in these claims that you can pick me up. 

Kurt: Oh no. That was my roommate's suggestion. She's going to be insufferable now. 

Blaine: Your secret's safe with me

Kurt: Thanks. But she's also much cooler than me if I'm being honest. I may prove to be a disappointment. Flirting with strangers on the internet is all fun and games until they actually reply 😅

Blaine blinks. He hadn't thought about it that hard, but if he had, he would have assumed that this was going to turn into sexting, getting off, and then mutually agreeing to never speak of it again. Or at least he assumes that's the way this sort of thing goes. He doesn't really know. 

But maybe that isn't what this is. Interesting.

Blaine: And do you make a habit of flirting with strangers on the internet?

Kurt: I want to be really smooth and be like 'only the cute ones 😉' but fuck it. No I don't usually. I'm like an honest to God Broadway romantic. I need at least dinner before I can consider getting my dick out. 

Kurt: And I realise a simple no would have sufficed 

Blaine huffs out a laugh. Okay. Definitely not sexting then. He's kind of relieved. It would have just been a way to let off steam after the emotional bomb that was Sebastian's betrayal. He hasn't really had time to sort out his feelings about Sebastian yet. Sam's solution to the problem was to get him spectacularly drunk and there's been little time for introspection since then. And that's mostly been on purpose.

He knows if he starts to think about it, it will bring every scrap of his hard earned self worth under a magnifying glass. He'll sort through all his insecurities for the reasons why Sebastian might have cheated and probably invent some new ones just for fun. He doesn't want to be terrified to love again. He doesn't want to lose his ability to love quickly and generously and all in. He doesn't want this to break him. 

And right now that means chatting to a cute guy that doesn't want to just get off with him. And regardless of anything else, it will be a funny story to tell Tina later. 

Blaine: Ah yes that well known Broadway hit, "Dinner for dick." We all know it

Kurt: Say what you like about Barrett Wilbert Weed but she smashed that one

Kurt: Listen you don't have to keep talking to me. I understand my mouth was putting out checks that my ass can't cash. Literally. 

Blaine: I want to keep talking to you. A gorgeous guy that's into Broadway and fashion? Maybe that wish journal I kept when I was thirteen really did have magical powers after all

Blaine: Although I'm still not a superhero so perhaps not 

Kurt: I never had a wish journal but I did have a hope chest. I cut up magazine pictures to compile my perfect man and it obviously looked outlandish and not like you at all

Kurt: But I am pretty sure I made my perfect man a musician 

Blaine: Well thank God I have that going for me at least

Kurt: You have a lot more going for you than that

Blaine: And I thought you said you didn't flirt with strangers on the internet 😉

Kurt: You're right

Blaine gets a jolt in his stomach, terrified that Kurt is about to promise to cut out the flirting or even stop talking to him all together. But then the next message comes through.

Kurt: Maybe we should become not-strangers so I can flirt with you without fear 

Blaine bites his lip against a smile, feeling the flush creep all the way to his ears. Who even is this guy?

Hopefully he's going to find out. 

Blaine: Sounds perfect 

[bacchicly]

19 (or more) Kisses Deep

For @darcyfangirlsfrequently

Ship: Garvez (of course)

Summary: It's Luke's Birthday and surprises are in store...a sweet little ficlet for an amazing Garvez writer and all round awesome Darcy! Happy Birthday, Eh?

Words: 1400ish (not all mine - some belong to Leonard Cohen)

🎵🎶…takes you down….to her place by the river…🎶🎵

"So just so I understand, son…" Rossi's eyes twinkle as he raises both his eyebrows and his glass in a mock toast. "...you are doing all this as a surprise for Penelope to celebrate YOUR birthday? I am not criticising - but I have never seen anyone concentrate so hard on making crustless cucumber sandwiches in my life." 

At the mention of Penelope, Luke can't help but break into a sheepish goofy grin. Rossi is right - it is crazy.

🎵🎶…and you know that she's half-crazy but that's why you want to be there 🎶🎵

Luke wipes his hands on the "Kiss the cook twice - I'm Italian!" apron the older agent passed to him wordlessly about an hour ago when he first invaded Rossi's kitchen with a large cardboard box of groceries, a "Best of Leonard Cohen" CD, and a "thank you" bottle of scotch. 

🎵🎶 And just when you mean to tell her that you have no love to give her - 🎶🎵

The lyric seeps its meaning into Luke's brain - dissolving his smile - and prompting him to grab his beer and take a long pull… no wonder he can't convince Penny he honestly loves her.  Poets. Bah.  Always making things so complicated.  Give him the Beatles any day over this dross "With a love like that you know you should be glad." Simple.  To the point.  Poetry. Why does she adore this dumb Canadian crooner anyways?  

"Hey.  Watch your mouth you chuckle-head, no speaking ill of the Lord Byron of Rock'n'Roll. We had some very interesting conversations in '77, I'll have you know."

Luke didn't even realise he had spoken aloud.  

🎵🎶 Then she gets you on her wavelength...And she lets the river answer that you've always been her lover 🎶🎵

"Sorry.  I didn't know you knew him personally."

"Don't worry about it.  What you should worry about is those scones - they are smelling like they might be just about done."

Luke's eyes widen in slight panic, sets down his bottle with a thunk, and spins to check on the oven where his strawberry streusel scones have been cheerfully baking for the last 19 minutes. He sighs with relief when, after yanking open the oven, it's clear from the delicious smell, the perfectly browned tops, and Rossi's chuckles - they are perfect.  

"Use the oven mitts!" says Rossi as he tosses a red quilted pair at Luke - who naturally grabs them out of the air and tugs them on grinning.  

"Yes, sir!"

Luke pulls the pan of scones out of the oven.  Breathing in deeply and he grins like an idiot to himself as he carefully moves the toothsome wedges to the cooling wrack.  He even starts to hum…

🎵🎶And you want to travel with her, and you want to travel blind, And then you know that you can trust her...For she's touched your perfect body with her mind 🎶🎵

Hmm maybe there is a reason why Penelope likes this guy so much…

The song ends and another starts - low and slow - and Luke turns back to the cucumber sandwiches.  He'll finish them and then start on the pinwheels - cream cheese and maraschino cherry - and then do some apricot chickpea curry endive boats to round out the table.  

🎵🎶 If you want a lover -I'll do anything you ask me to 🎶

He should probably pre-boil the water too so that he can warm the tea pot just before she arrives too.  

🎶🎵…If you want a partner, take my hand, or If you want to strike me down in anger…🎶🎵

Ok...yes. Maybe...maybe... this guy does know a thing or two….chuckling over the memory of Penelope storming at him over something or other.

🎵🎶 Here I stand. I'm your man. 🎶🎵

Luke's hands still as the next lines wash over him.

🎵🎶 If you want a boxer...I will step into the ring for you 🎶🎵

Yep.  Definitely knows a thing or maybe nineteen.

🎵🎶 And if you want a doctor...I'll examine every inch of you...If you want a driver, climb inside...Or if you want to take me for a ride...You know you can! I'm your man. 🎶🎵

He shivers at the thought of examining every inch of her…of insides… of rides…

This had better work.  It's his last Hail Mary.  If, after today, Penelope is not willing to give him a chance… a real chance this time....

…well, that will truly be the end of it, won't it? 

His heart rebels at the thought and the song echos the frustrating truth: for him? There will never be an end.

🎵🎶…And I'd howl at your beauty...like a dog in heat...and I'd claw at your heart...and I'd tear at your sheet...I'd say please (Please)...I'm your man 🎶🎵

His hand tightens around the handle of the knife he was using to slice off the last cucumber sandwich crusts.  Why doesn't she get that this is it for him?  That she's it for him.  That he's…he's…her man?

🎵🎶 If you want a father for your child...or only want to walk with me a while across the sand - I'm your man 🎶🎵

Oh Hell.  True.  All true.  All desperately outrageously frustratingly gloriously true.

The song pulses under his ruminations - pulsing and pleading - begging for any crumb… weirdly strong in it's subservience…

🎵🎶 I'm your man 🎶🎵 

The final cords swell and ebb away… and in the beat between tracks he-

"Newb-Luke-Birthday Boy???  What are you doing here?"

Luke's head snaps up and he stares.

It's like thinking of her has summoned her.  

She is wearing the outfit she was wearing the day she met Roxy - all oranges and yellow sunshine  …the day he knew he was a goner….. and just like she always crashes into his life - awkwardly sweetly infuriatingly - she is here early and is carrying some giant box of something or other.  And as usual… he's not ready - caught off guard - consumed…but can't help but grin like an idiot as his heart starts to do it's joyful Penelope-wiggle-of-joy.  

Damn.  I'm HER man.

"What am I doing here?  What are you doing here?  ROSSI?!?!?"

The older agent appears behind a sputtering Penelope and then with a too-innocent too-indulgent too-self-sastified curl of his lips - the pompous ass that is David Rossi shugs into his coat, turns on his heel, and jangles his car keys in the universal sign of "I'm going out".

Penelope is now the one spinning on her heel - echoing Luke's "Rossi!" but her boss cuts her off.

"You're both very welcome.  Now be good, kids. Help yourself to anything you can find. I'll be back at midnight.  Lock up when you leave and don't turn into any pumpkins!"

The next song is well begun now and they watch helpless as Unit Chief David Rossi literally waltzes out on them - shamelessly adding his baritone to Cohen's bass… "...take this waltz, take this waltz! With its very own breath of brandy and death!"

Penelope spins back to Luke - but slowly - gathering her thoughts. 

Why is he here? He wasn't supposed to arrive until much later.  She was supposed to decorate and everyone was supposed to arrive and then Matt was supposed to swing by with him on the way home from a birthday dinner with "Uncle Luke" and they were all going to jump out and yell surprise and Emily had ordered a cake and…. Well apparently something else is happening… those Sneaky Mc Sneakertons!

"Luke?  What's going on?"

"I…I…I think…"

🎵🎶 There's a concert hall in Vienna...Where your mouth had a thousand reviews 🎶🎵

"...I think…I think our team is as tired as I am of waiting." 

And with that Luke puts down the knife, pushes himself away from the counter, crosses to his bambi-eyed love, takes the box and set it on the floor, and then draws her into his arms, their eyes lock, their hands clasp, and their lips tingle as they sway into a kitchen waltz.

🎵🎶 And I'll dance with you in Vienna...I'll be wearing a river's disguise...The hyacinth wild on my shoulder...my mouth on the dew of your thighs 🎶🎵

They move as though they have always danced…always will dance…close and smiling…Penelope tilting to smile up at him…Luke tilting his head to breath her in…

🎵🎶 Oh my love, oh my love...Take this waltz, take this waltz...It's yours now, it's all that there is 🎶🎵

And they come to a stop and finally finally their lips meet in a slow deep kiss filled with promise. 

When they part - Penelope's eyes are closed and she is so so still…

"Pen?"

And with that Penelope can't help but twinkle up at him and lean in to whisper…

"Apparently you're Italian and I am supposed to kiss you twice."

And so…she does.  

…although they hardly stop at two.

🎵🎶 There ain’t no cure…there ain’t no cure… there ain’t no cure for love. 🎶🎵

[enchantedlandcoffee]

3. “It’s always been you, and it will always be you. Please never forget that.”

Thanks anon! I had fun writing this one!

--

“You heading home, mate?” Liam asked as the movie ended. softly nudging Zayn to wake him up.

“Is it alright if I just kip here, Payno?” Louis answered, taking a sip of his beer as he stretched his legs out, having been sitting on them for the majority of the movie.

“You sure, Lou? You’re only down the hall and I’m sure Harry’d be worried if you didn’t come home?”

“Nah, I'm sure he'll be just fine by himself for one night. Besides, I’m pretty sure Nick’s over there.” Louis drawled, finishing off his beer as he searched his pockets for his phone. Liam winced at the bitter tone in his friend’s voice.

“Call him at least, Lou. The last thing we need is Harry banging on my door because you didn't come home' Liam pleaded, picking up a sleepy Zayn and heading towards their room, leaving Louis sprawled out in the living room, searching the sofa for his phone.

“You know you’re not my dad right?” He called, hearing a chuckle from Zayn and a groan from Liam.

“I don’t hear the phone ringing!” Liam yelled back at him and Zayn disappeared into their room, Zayn calling a ‘Night Lou!’ before the door slammed shut.

“‘Call him,’ he says.” Louis mocked, finally fishing his phone out of the couch cushions. "I'll call him alright." He winced at the brightness of his screen, thumbing through his contacts. Since when did he know this many people? Aha, Harold. Giving himself a silent cheer, he pressed the call button, placing the phone between his shoulder and ear as he stood up, heading towards the kitchen. He rifled through the fridge, praying that the call would go to voicemail.

“Hello?” A gruff voice answered, causing Louis to nearly drop the bottle of water he was holding.

“Harry?”

"Lou? Why are you calling me at 2 in the morning? Aren't you in the other room?"Louis winced at the mention of the time, his previous anger switching into a feeling of guilt at the premise of waking Harry up.

“Shit! I’m so sorry Haz! I didn’t realise what time it was. I’ll let you get back to sleep.” He hurried, moving to grab his phone.

“Lou, it’s fine. What were you calling for? I’m assuming the phone call means that you didn’t come home last night?”

Louis sighed and closed the fridge quietly, hopping up onto the nearest kitchen stool.

“I thought I’d stay at Liam and Zayn’s tonight. You know, give you two some space.” He answered, fiddling with the label on the bottle.

“I mean- that’s nice of you but- wait. What do you mean ‘you two’?” 

“You know- you and Nick. I know that you guys had a date tonight- last night. Though I’m not sure why you didn’t just have it today- what with it being Valentines and all that.” Louis stated, brow furrowing in confusion. He remembered Nick messaging him that night about his plans with Harry and his subtle request to ‘vacate the apartment for the night’. The message being the cause of his dramatic exit from his flat and the spontaneous movie night he’d convinced his friends to join. 

“Lou,” He heard Harry sigh, picturing his friend sitting up in their- his bed and running his hands through his hair, “I didn’t have a date with Nick tonight. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“You could have, you know.” Louis whispered, the next sentence killing him to add “it’s my fault we’re not together anymore. You should be able to date who you please- someone who makes you happy. Not someone who causes an argument over the stupidest thing.” He heard a muffled sob, his heart instantly breaking for the other boy.

“Lou, I don’t want to date anyone else. It's always been you and it always will be you. Please never forget that.” Harry’s voice was particularly stable as he reassured Louis, no sign of wavering or a sob.

“But Nick asked me to leave…” Louis trailed off, noticing the anguish in his own voice as he realised the tears that had pooled in his eyes.

“Can you come home now?” Harry asked, laughter evident in his tone, “I swear it will all make sense when you get here.”

Louis nodded, forgetting that Harry couldn’t see him and hung up the phone, jumping off the stool and sending a quick text to Liam explaining everything. He rushed out of the flat and down the hall, fumbling with his keys to open the door.

“Lou?” He heard Harry call, as he locked the door and entered the living room, immediately seeing photos dangling from various surfaces. He wandered around the room slowly, not seeing his boy waddle out of the bedroom wrapped in a duvet. 

“I asked Nick to get you out of the house for a bit,” Harry admitted, pulling the duvet tightly around himself, “he and Niall volunteered to help me get you back. We thought you’d only be gone for a few hours, hence the candles and food.”  Harry gestured to the picnic basket Louis had overlooked. “The plan was to remind you of the amazing times we had together, and then at midnight I was going to ask you to be my boyfriend again.” The young boy mumbled, taking in Louis’ expression.  Louis quickly crossed the room, enveloping the taller boy in a tight hug. 

“Yes, a million times yes!” He answered, pulling back from Harry only to kiss the younger boy. “Happy Valentine’s babe.”

[his-saiko]

The Summoning

— The Other Side

"Take me to the other side."

You weren't supposed to be anywhere near this man's path. But there was something about you that seems so compelling. Curiosity? Lust? Threat? He just has to know. Whatever it is, there's one thing he is definitely set on. He wants you and he's not so easily distracted from that goal.

— Hawks x f!oc/reader. Friends? Dabi x f!oc/reader. Friends.

C/Tw. themes of harm, themes of mental issues, intrusive thoughts [All possible triggering content will be enclosed in !'s

1.5k

You took time to recover from your shutdown and have used the time to think about what to do with what you know. The right thing to do would be to report the authorities but how would you explain how you got that information? You weren't exactly abducted and you got out alive. You sigh. It is just as heavy as your own thoughts.

"You could try to figure it out on your own." "Like a detective?" "Detective work feels like a hassle." You get ready to go out and see both the feather and the tracker phone on your desk. "Wouldn't hurt to leave those alone." You tell yourself. Is there really any reason to keep in touch with both? You can always pretend like nothing happened, that you've never met them. Just as you've always done.

You make the call. "Hello? I'd like to go if the offer is still available."

You wait at the corner of the street to be picked up. A car comes up to you and someone comes out. It wasn't anyone you recognise but your distrust must be within their expectations. They introduced themselves as your driver and gave you the information you need to trust them for the moment at least.

"So he'll know if I go missing?" You play it off as a joke but it was a genuine concern of it still.

They say yes.

You get in the car and let them drive you to the place. You fidget with your clothes as you anticipate your arrival. You consciously make an effort to make yourself look and feel calm.

The driver helps you out of the car and you were greeted by those who are supposed to be assisting you. Your eyes scan but you don't see him anywhere. You breathe out. "I guess it's for the best..."

"L/n Y/n?"

"Yes?" You turn but saw no one but a brooding man with an intense gaze. You lower your head to avoid his eyes then see a small white heteromorph.

"I'm Nezu. You must be the one Hawks contacted me about. Are you ready to register your quirk?"

"Uhm. Yes, but I don't have much control over it since it manifested so late." "What's the etiquette of talking to a person this small?"

"That's okay. You don't have to worry about losing control. We have someone who can take care of that."

You follow the peculiar person down the hall. "You mean Hawks?"

"No. Aizawa." He gestures towards the brooding man.

"Oh."

You did all sorts of tests. Some have been more difficult than others. Like, the needle not being to break your skin. But worse than all of them, was when you were put in a room with someone asking you questions about your life and childhood that you don't even remember anymore. You look in the mirror. This isn't like any other psych evaluation.

"Dr..."

"Just a few more minutes." He reassures. "How are you feeling?"

"Like you need to get out and bring the man who could stop me from losing control of my quirk." You answer but the tone of pleading escaped your throat. "Please!"

You rise from your seat and hold onto your chest. You can't breathe.

"It's okay. Why don't we try to calm down together."

You feel a presence coming towards you so you scream and swing your arm but your arm got caught in what looked like a bandage. You realise that you can't activate your quirk. You follow the cloth and see the brooding man from before.

He quickly let you go.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I was scared!"

"It's okay. We can stop here."

You have a weighted blanket over you as you wait by the lobby.

"Is she still here? Y/n!"

You turn to the voice and see the pro-hero coming towards you. "Sorry. I couldn't come sooner. I was held up in work. Did anything happen?"

You shake your head but you feel tears forming and threatening to make themselves known. "I think I messed up." You babble then bury your face in your hands.

Hawks chuckles a bit. "I think you're supposed to, Y/n. If you didn't the data might not be accurate."

"They didn't even do anything. I just panicked."

"You think you need some air?"

Hawks flies you to the top of the hospital. You sit down on the floor and breathe in and out deeply.

Both of you stay silent, but there was an agreement between you two as well. You both want to ask about being with the villains.

"Y/n—" "Hawks—"

"Oh—" "Oh—" You both chuckle and fall silent.

"About the villains—"

"I trust you." You immediately say. "Whatever your reason, I trust you. Even if we take different paths, I trust you." The words become heavier in your heart as you repeat them.

"I'll always get to you when you need me." Hawks smiles though very different from the ones he puts on for the masses. "Count on it."

"Oho~ She came back," Toga comments as she sees you.

"Dabi's little girlfriend?" Twice asks as he peeks from the door.

"Girlfriend?" You repeat in confusion. "Little??" You look at Twice but quickly back down when you notice the height difference between you two. "I— I thought I wanted to check this place out more?" You say your excuse, but actually, you're here to tail a friend. "What do you do here exactly?"

"What you trying to know our secrets to sell us out?" — "Are you gonna be our friend then?"

"I guess I shouldn't have asked that. Is Dabi here? I called him to get here but I haven't seen him."

"He's out," Toga answers. "You wouldn't mind hanging out with us for a bit, right?" She grins.

"Well, there's not much else to do but that, right?"

Toga drags you around to show you everything she likes while Twice follows along giving commentary. There you find a little about their hierarchy.

"League of Villians using the Liberation Army as a front." You note. "Ah. Where's Shigaraki?"

"He's with the doctor." Toga answers immediately but her eye are trained on you.

You pause for a moment. "Is he sick or something?" You feel pressure weighing down on you the more the topic continues.

"Something like that."

"I guess that makes sense."

"Hey, it's Hawks. Hawks!" Twice waves down at the hallway.

Hawks's eyes met with yours and you give him a gentle smile. You three joined up with him. Though it seems that the group was already divided with Toga staying close to you and Twice talking up a storm with Hawks. And between you and Hawks, you both built a wall in between you two for this.

"Wait, why did you come back? Are you joining?" — "You better not be a spy or anything."

"Honestly..." You start. "I'm on the fence about it. I was thinking about talking to Dabi or Shigaraki to help make things clear for me."

"Why them? We're here." Toga asks.

"Hmm. Well, why are you guys here?"

"Because the League makes me feel useful and they're fine with being me." Twice answers.

"Because I want things my way." Toga follows.

"Yeah, I guess that makes sense." You mutter you put your hands in your pockets. "Me? I'm just looking for something to aim for."

"Like what?" Toga looks at you with curiosity.

You shrug. "Hope. Freedom." Your voice lowers. "I'm honestly tired of being no one I guess." You briefly glance at Hawks. He himself was quiet but you can tell by his eyes he was thinking. "I don't want to put up a front though, I wanna be myself."

"See? That sounds like our cause." Toga holds your hand. "You should really join us. It would be nice to have someone I like around."

"Yeah..."

You sit down facing the horizon. You hug your knees and play the scene in your head over and over to try and get an emotion out of yourself.

"I see you have found the roof." You watch as Dabi joins you.

"Toga and Twice kept me company. They seemed nice."

"And they seem to like you too. Don't know how to feel about the crazies liking you."

"It takes one to know one." You both laugh.

"Twice says you plan on joining."

"Wouldn't say plan. It's complicated." You shift to a different position propping your head.

"What else is there to think about?"

"Someone doesn't want me being here." You lean back. "And I did say I don't want to get caught up in this war of yours."

"You mean Hawks?" Dabi scoffs and clicks his tongue, annoyance growing in his chest. "What does that hero have to do with your business?"

"Same that he doesn't have any like you." You answer then fall silent for a moment. "I've studied people as a pass time. Shigaraki has something people need to fear. And for someone like you, alongside him." You give Dabi a side glance. "I can already see what comes next."

Dabi raises his eyebrows. "What's that?"

"The pain you all feel." You shift again and fold your hands together. "And it's difficult to deny that that's my pain as well."

taglist:

© 2023 Alfi. Do not replicate.

[jolalibrary]

notes: just a drabble. fem!reader. a little nonsense plot with nsfw mentions.

++++++++++++++++++

Nothing beats riling up Matt Murdock.

It's satisfactory to slowly break him down. To wear him thin. To make him so exasperated, he snaps, fingers digging into your hip as he fucks all your teasing words from your mind.

It's something you rather enjoy doing, even if every time it's you who ends up breaking.

The two of you fell together in the beginning because you needed something casual. Something fun. The two of you quickly realise how fun the fun was between you both.

How compatible.

Whether using underhand tactics like bending over when you're playing pool. Or outright flirting with him when friends have nipped to the bathroom. He's easy to rile up.

But, of all the places to wind him up, nothing is better than his office.

Plain. Almost dull to most. But it's your favourite playground—especially when Foggy and Karen are out.

And tonight, they were at Josie's.

You knew this because they'd invited you. Your skin prickled with excitement when you read Matt had chosen to stay behind.

You could hear Foggy now, 'All work and no play, makes Matt Murdock a dull boy'.

How wrong he was.

They didn't know the two of you were a thing. A well-kept secret that had been going on for months under their nose. Only sharing glances and occasional whispers when you were both in their company.

You didn't know why neither of you told them. But then, neither of you expressing it to be that way or changing it.

Even if he told you there was only you when he bent you over the arm of his sofa. Even if you told him you loved him when he pinned you against your shower tiles.

You didn't answer their text, pretending ignorance as you hopped in a cab, choosing instead to pay him a visit at the office.

Because you weren't needy, but you also hadn't heard from him.

Sometimes you lost him in the midst of cases, especially if they bled into the night. Sometimes both of your work ate into the time you both shared.

You're not surprised his office light is on. A beacon only for you, especially because he doesn't need it.

When you reach the door, you find it unlocked. Shaking your head, even if you know he doesn't need it. He can defend himself. Can sense things, including you, from blocks away.

Because he's intuned with you. You know it. Can tell from the way he opens his apartment door before you've even reached the top of the stairs, greeting you before you've even said a thing.

So when you step through his office door, you're surprised he's facing away from you. Slowly turning, unveiling himself in the low light.

And you'll never tire of him.

Especially when he's in a tie.

Your mind always running away, wondering whether he'll shove it down your throat or tie your hands behind your back.

He's told you before he has the same thoughts when you're in heels. Never wanting you to remove them, enjoying your office wear as much as you do his.

He likes you in suits, in dresses, but most of all in skirts.

Matt Murdock likes access.

He likes the knowledge that he can slide his hand up the back of your knee, your thigh, and between your thighs.

"Not now," he says, sharp, without even a hello.

You bury your frown. "Hello to you too."

"Hello. Not now."

You snort. "I've not even said a single thing."

He laughs, which is something. His finger still slides over the page in his other hand, reading as he engages with you. "You don't need to. I know your thoughts."

"Can mindread now? Might have been good to share that with the class. Make my thoughts even filthier."

Blind, or not-entirely-blind. The way he cuts you with a stare is impressive.

"Maybe I'm here for work."

He scoffs. "You're never here for work."

You sigh softly, lowering your bag as you untie your coat, letting it fall open, unsure how his office is always so warm.

"True. But, you also rarely ever want me here for work. You never call me to come here because you're working, but because you don't want to work."

"I said not now."

Licking your lips, you cross the room to him, impressed his finger is still sliding over the page, even turning it over as he continues his reading. But then, Matt Murdock is impressive. Not just at night, when he dons a different suit entirely.

But in the day too.

His mind thinking quickly, always something at the tip of his tongue.

"You do keep saying that."

He licks his lips. "And, you keep not listening."

You rarely before drop to your knees for anyone you weren't exclusive with. But for him, you'd do it willingly without him even asking.

“Do you, perhaps, think a little stress relief would assist you? It would help me."

His smile was what caught your eye in the first place.

A mix of cockiness and handsomeness rolled into one.

The one he sported now leaned more towards cockiness. "No, sweetheart. I don't."

"Are you sure you don't need a hand with anything? An oral opinion?" Your body moving closer, body sliding between his finger on the page as he exhales. "I probably shouldn't tell you that I'm wearing this matching set, and I've been told it's a sensory minefield. All lace, and bows, and—"

Matt shoots you a glare that makes your smirk so large that it cuts into your cheeks. "Sweetheart."

"Yes, Darling.”

You watch him trace his teeth with his tongue before he rubs the bridge of his nose. “Do you have to be so….”

“Quick-witted? Beautiful?”

“I'm busy.”

You smile, stepping back, knowing he can see your hands thrown up, even if the rest of the world doesn't think he can. You know he's watching you, in his own way, as you do.

“This case, I need to concentrate.”

“I get it, you need to think about a case and not how good I sound when you're fucking me on your desk?”

He throws the papers in his hands down, hands finding a place on his hips as he glares.

You turn, shaking your head as you head to the far wall, leaning against it. "Oh no, not the power pose, how will I—"

It takes him three strides and his lips on yours to silence you. One hand clutches your jaw, holding you in place as the other pins you, so you can't escape.

Not that you want to.

Christ, you never want to.

Opening your eyes when you feel his lips move away, watching him drop to his knees, a devious smirk on his lips as he slides your skirt above your knee.

His tongue swept over his tongue. "Sometimes, sweetheart, you need to learn when to be silent."

The poor lighting above the two of you hits his red glasses, making it feel as though he's staring into you. Right into you.

"And since you want to be the opposite."

A shiver dances down your spine, a smile wanting to become a smirk as calloused thumbs slide over the skin above your knee, up and up.

"I'm going to make sure all anyone can hear is you."

And then a finger hooks in the band of your underwear as he snakes it down, your skirt remaining bunched around your hip.

He pauses, breath dancing over your exposed skin. "I'm going to enjoy hearing you beg me to let you cum."

Fuck.

an: just a little drabble of hot office-matt because rewatches are fun for the soul.

[whumpcloud]

Mi Corazón

taglist: @suspicious-whumping-egg @gala1981 @whump-in-the-moonlight

content: mostly emotional whump, toxic relationships, references to smoking, drugging, whumpee thinking they deserve the whump, very brief knife whump at the end

Charlie breaks her pencil between her fingers. The underlying sketch isn't turning out right at all. If Derian was here, she would be able to actually get it right.

She doesn't know why she's drawing him. He's gone, he left three weeks ago, and she's sure this is the last argument. Derian screamed loud enough to hurt her ears, all the usual insults and curses, and stormed out without even taking his jacket.

He stole all the cigarettes though, like an asshole.

Charlie sighs, bites her lip, and pulls out her phone. If he's gone anywhere, he's gone to his dad's.

"Heya," Simón answers.

"Is Derian there?" Charlie asks.

"...sorry," Simón sighs. "I haven't heard from him at all."

"Oh." Charlie picks at the loose thread of her sweater. "Thanks anyway."

"When did he leave?"

"Couple weeks ago."

"Charlie, honey," Simón says, in that soft, sympathetic tone. "I really don't think you should wait for him, this time."

Charlie makes a sound that's almost a laugh. "Your kid, Mr Rodriquez."

"I know, I know," Simón says, and Charlie can tell he's rolling his eyes. "But I know what Derian's like. He'll turn up, but… he's been gone for months before. And the two of you…"

"Yeah," Charlie mumbles. We've never been good for each other. "I know. I just… I miss him."

"You always do."

It's just the exhale, really. After taking a breath, the sleepy whispers of mi corazón in the morning, the jokes of draw me like one of your French girls whenever Charlie has a new project for school, the soft kisses and mumbling I love you, Derian has let it out again, let everything fall apart and left Charlie to pick up the pieces.

She's tired.

"I'll, um, I'll talk to you later, Mr Rodriquez," Charlie says. "Tell me if he shows up, yeah?"

"Alright." Simón wants to hug the poor kid. "Take care of yourself."

Charlie puts her phone down and screams into her sleeves. She hates missing him. It only plays into every destructive tendency of Derian's, every time he comes crawling back with another apology and more promises that he never keeps.

She has to draw a line somewhere. If he comes back, she has to tell him to leave this time. It's her apartment. She's allowed to do that. It doesn't matter where he goes, as long as he's gone.

Derian can die in a fucking ditch for all Charlie cares. Maybe he has already.

Charlie calls him.

"Derian Rodriquez, I'll call you back later!"

He won't. Charlie hangs up and calls him again.

"Derian Rodriquez, I'll call you back later!"

Charlie calls him again.

Nicolas smiles, dangling Derian's phone out of his reach. "Who's Charlie, pretty boy? And give me an answer the first time."

"M-my boyfriend," Derian mumbles. The world is swimming with the sedative in his blood. "Don't- Don't answer it."

Nicolas smirks, and picks up. "Hello?"

Charlie's eyes widen. "U-Um. Hi? Is Derian there?"

"He's busy." Nicolas puts his hand over Derian's mouth to muffle him. "You looking for him?"

"Y-Yeah, he…" Charlie clears her throat. "Um. Who are you?"

"Nicolas." Nicolas stares Derian dead in the eyes. "His boyfriend."

Oh.

She didn't matter, did she? This whole time… how long? How long did he have someone else? Who was first? Has she been a… a side piece this entire time? When he disappeared, did he just go fuck with someone else for a while? Does this person even know about her? Would they even care if she mentioned she's supposed to be Derian's boyfriend?

Derian is slamming his fists against Nicolas' chest, but he's barely more than annoyance. He can't even lift his arms above his head. Nicolas is breaking Charlie's heart, and Derian is right there, and he can't do a thing about it.

"R-Right." Charlie realises it's been a little too long since she said anything, and swallows. "Just, um, tell him I say hi. And that we should hang out."

Nicolas grins. "Will do!"

Charlie hangs up first.

"Was that fun?" Nicolas asks, staring down at Derian in his lap. "I had fun."

"You bastard," Derian snarls, but it's pointless protest. "You- y-you…"

"I made it so that nobody is looking for you," Nicolas says, and tilts Derian's chin up to look at him. "Means we've got all the time in the world with you, pretty boy."

Derian bites the inside of his cheek, tears welling up in his eyes. He hates that Nicolas is right. Even if he turned up, Charlie would tell him to leave, and she'd… be right to.

Even without this. That she believed what Nicolas said proves what Derian has always known - he was never good to her. She deserves better than him. And he can't help thinking, when Nicolas starts to cut patterns into his skin, that he deserves this.

[mandoalorian]

Brown Eyes [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15, SEASON 2. !!

*Hi. The episode has been out for three hours. The devil works hard but I work harder. I hope you enjoy! xx*

Summary: Din has always wanted to confess his love to you— but with his devotion to the Creed and with the risk of losing you, he wonders if the revelation would really be worth it. Would you even consider being with him if he refused to remove his helmet? When Grogu is taken away from Din and in the fiendish hands of Moff Gideon, Din realises there isn't anything he won't do to get his son back.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: descriptions of anxiety, *SPOILERS FOR Season 2 Episode 15: The Believer of The Mandalorian*

Word count: 2.6k

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Masterlist

gif credit: @siennablake

"Din," you froze up, backing away from the Imperial who was sitting at a table drinking caf. "I- I can't do it."

Din's head snapped to face you, masked by the Imperial Shocktrooper helmet he was doting. "Why not?" His voice was firm, but the tone of his question dripped with concern. You bawled your fingers into a fist as you squeezed your eyes tight shut, beginning to anxiously pace around in circles.

"That's Valen Hess," you muttered, trying your hardest to regulate your nervous breathing. "He- I used to serve under him. I- can't… go in there. Din, he'll recognise me." the thoughts in your head were jumbled. Din placed two hands steady on your shoulders.

"I'll go, hand me the dataspike." Din told you calmly. You felt like putty under his touch. Usually, his firm grip would calm you down and ease any of your troubles away— but not this time. You felt completely nauseated.

Grogu was at stake. When you met the Mandalorian, it took him some time to find the confidence in introducing you to the child. You were Ex-Imperial after all. But he warmed up to you, seeing the way you cared so deeply for the children on Sorgan. When he introduced you to the little green bean, who did not yet have a name, you were enamoured. That's when Din knew he was in love with you. Ever since that day, he'd only fallen in love with you more and more. His feelings became stronger with every waking second he spent with you.

Of course, he never acted on his feelings. He wished he had, he wished he could say something. He knew that if something happened to you and you didn't know how he truly felt, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. There had been countless times where you and him brushed paths on the Razor Crest. Plenty of times to say something, plenty of times to mutter the three words that had consumed his mind, body and soul. ‘I love you’. The words were like a broken record in the back of his mind. He looked at you through his visor, seeing your distress and his heart aching and he wanted— no, he had to do something.

His son had been kidnapped and suddenly, Din was an unstoppable force. Nothing could hold him back— not his friends, not the Creed, nothing. The regret ate him up like flies on a corpse. If there was one thing he learned from Grogu's disappearance, is that you never know what is coming around the corner. Din began to treat everyday with you like it was your last because there was no way of telling what the future was holding. And that only stirred him on, the desire of telling you how much you meant to him.

"You can't go," you removed your finger from your lips where you had been anxiously biting your nails. "The security system is biometric facial recognition. There must be another way." you tried to rack your brain for a solution, but Din's mind was already made up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in search for an answer. You steadied your breathing. "Din," you whispered. "What if we distract them? You go in there and speak to him so he's looking the other way and I'll use that moment to sneak past and access the terminal."

No answer. "Din?" you asked, cautiously opening your eyes. He was already gone. Your mouth began to open and close like a goldfish as you watched his approach the terminal. He paused, midway between two tables, shakily saluting Valen Hess. Din turned back to the terminal, held his head up high and carried on over to it.

Upon examining it, Din found it was no different to any other information point— whether it had been New Republic or Independent, Din was lucky enough to already know how to navigate the system. He clicked a few buttons on the keypad, bringing up the facial recognition scanner. He stood still, letting it roam down his face. He didn't have much faith, but it was worth a shot.

Din cursed under his breath as the scanner light lit up red, beeping ecstatically.

"Error. Error. Facial scanning incomplete. Ten seconds until system shutdown." An automated voice informed. Din felt a few gazes burn into his back, no doubt Valen Hess noticing the commotion. "Ten, nine, eight-"

You watched as the timer went down, your hand fingers curling around the blaster in your holster. You didn't know what Din was going to, but you knew if anything— he was a man with a plan.

And that was when he removed his helmet.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, it took the air from your lungs leaving you gasping in silence. You felt like a criminal, looking at him with your own eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't tear the gaze from the back of his head.

Brown hair. Dark brown hair, slightly messy from the helmet. Although you were some distance away, you noticed the little waves and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The cut of the Imperial armour revealed just a sliver of his skin. It was golden tan— surprising to you.

"Facial scanning complete." The dataspike ejected from the terminal, a small light lit up in green, validating that the information had been processed and Din was now the owner of Moff Gideon’s co-ordinates. Just as he was about to put his helmet back on, a voice interrupted him.

Your heart sank when you saw that Valen Hess had approached Din.

"Trooper, where are you stationed?"

"Transportation."

"What?"

"My designation is transport— co-pilot."

"No son, what's your TK number?"

Din felt his throat dry up as he looked the man in the eyes. Valen Hess stared at Din right back, looking into the eyes that nobody had gazed into since Din had been sworn to the Creed. Din swallowed the lump in his throat, only for it to return immediately.

"He's with me." you announced, walking over to Din and Hess. A wash of relief shuttled through Din's body upon hearing your voice, but that was completely blown away when he realised you had seen him. It was true, you had seen his face— but there was no time to act up. Din had sacrificed everything for Grogu and you weren't going to let this go wrong. "This is my trooper, sir."

"Who is he and what's his TK number?" Valen Hess repeated, clicking his tongue between his teeth.

"This is my commanding officer TK-0402, and I'm TK-0322. I'm afraid he doesn't speak much. Ever since his vessel lost pressure on Tanaab." You explained with confidence, sighing apologetically and placing a hand on your hip.

Din found the courage to look at you, making brief yet bewildered glances between you and Valen Hess. He had a thousand questions but he knew he could trust you, and so, he smiled wearily, nodding his head in agreement to your little story.

"What's his name?" Hess inquired.

You took a deep breath, and turned to face Din. He looked at you too, his face softening as your eyes met for the very first time. You felt your heart rate slow down as you took in his appearance. You were nervous, and tensions were high, but as you looked into the Mandalorian's sparkling eyes, you felt a familiar sense of belonging. You felt complete.

"Brown eyes." you whispered, feeling the tears pool up as you tried to choke back a sob. Din smiled at you, just a small smile, but enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. It gave you the reassurance to know that this was all worth it.

"Well, brown eyes," Valen Hess adjusted his belt. "You troopers were both on the transport that brought in the valium, correct? The only surviving shocktroopers, might I add." he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah, that was us." You answered hesitantly.

"Please, come join me for drinks. We must celebrate." Hess said, approaching the table he was originally sat at and ushering you over with an exaggerated gesture.

You and Din exchanged a look before walking over to the table and sinking down into the chair. Hess poured out two cups of caf and slid them over. Din stayed silent for most of the conversation, briefly making utterances of affirmation and nodding his head to suggest that he was indeed listening.

Although, he wasn't listening really. His mind was racing and he couldn't concentrate on anything. Although it wasn't necessarily true, he felt like every head in the room was looking at him. Staring at him. Judging him breaking his oath. Was he a failure? Was he a disgrace to the Creed? Dishonourable? A monster?

"I could blather on 'to health' or 'to success', but… tell me TK-0322, where do you come from?"

"Alderaan." you said without hesitation. Din looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why exactly you had given Hess the details of your real planet.

"Ah, I see…" Hess frowned. "Well, to Alderaan!" he grinned, raising his glass in the air.

"No." you deadpanned and Hess shot you a confused look.

"No?"

"No." you repeated. "Alderaan was a peaceful planet destroyed by the Empire."

"And those on the Death Star, those who aided in the destruction of Alderaan became heroes of the Empire. I was there." he said with pride.

Din watched your face harden as your cheeks burned up with rage. "Heroes?" you croaked out. "For attacking and murdering innocents? Hundreds of thousands of people died on Alderaan. I lost my family."

"Losing the ones we love is simply part of life," Hess revealed with a sigh— and Din felt his heart shatter at his words. He stiffened up, his gaze fixating on the concrete wall as his surroundings began to faze out.

"At what cost?" you whispered. "You know, every day I think about it. I wished there was something I could do to stop it. But no, I was here, fighting for the Empire. While the Empire was out killing my people." You gritted out as tears pricked your eyes. You felt Dins hand manouver under the table and take place on your thigh, as his gloved fingers rubbed comforting circles into the thin material that covered your skin. His hand was large, fitting around your leg perfectly. He held you down, stopping your anxious shaking and you immediately calmed down. Din wasn't going to stop you, but he did want you to not let your feelings intrude on what was really happening right now. Valen Hess, however, looked mortified. You picked up the glass and forced a smile. Din copied your movement and you clinked your glass with his. "To family." you toast, and Din smiles. He smiles so wide a dimple appears in his cheek.

"To family." he confirms, thinking about his son and how close he was to getting him back.

You put the glass of caf back down on the table and quickdrew your blaster, shooting Valen Hess in the chest.

Din knew better than to question you. He took out his own pistol and helped you take down the remaining troopers and Imps in the room before you both raced out of the base.

Of course, you knew that there'd be commotion. You heard the TIE fighter engines as soon as you stepped foot outside. Din grabbed your hand, pulling you along as you both sprinted into the depths of the forest. Once deep enough, you looked up. It was dark, strings of light beaming through the gaps in the trees. But it was enough to illuminate Din. You had envisioned what Din looked like beneath his beskar helmet every single day, and now, you had your answer.

Din took one look at you. He pulled off his leather gloves, dropping them to the ground and placed his hand on your cheek. Subconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his palm as his fingers tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, humming in delight as his bodily warmth transferred to you.

"Din, when we return to the ship you can put your helmet back on. I never saw you." you promised, your voice barely above a whisper and your eyes remaining closed.

"Cyare," Din mumbled, his heart yearning. The pad of his thumb traced your face, following the height of your cheek bones and the arch of your eyebrows and down your nose. "Open your eyes." he requested. Cautiously, you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open as you drunk in his appearance once more.

Brown stubble with a patch of grey graced the lower portion of his face. You reached out, this time your own hand cupping his cheek. Din didn't let go of you, and he let you touch him. Your finger nervously brushed over the coarse hairs and you let out a small giggle as you remembered him telling you from the Fresher room on the Razor Crest that he was going to shave. He had, and now you could see for yourself that it had started growing back.

"Do… do you like what you see?" Din asked nervously, his gaze only temporarily lifting from yours.

You nodded your head. "I do," you admitted. "You're… so handsome."

Din felt his cheeks heat up as you watched the small blush creep upon his face. You were enthralled, seeing him like this. Seeing his humanity— his emotions and expressions. You knew you loved Din, with or without the helmet— but this confirmed everything.

"May I?" Din asked, leaning into you slowly and closing his eyes. The curve of his nose bumped against yours as and the softness of his lips touched you so delicately.

You mumbled a small 'yes' and as your lips parted, Din kissed you. Soft, sweet, but passionate and with heart. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging at it and encouraging Din to kiss you deeper and further. He done so, willingly, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth and vibrating through your body.

He pulled away eventually, breathless and his eyes dark and glazed. "I-I…" he was speechless, looking at you with the utmost adoration. "I love you." He sighed in defeat, knowing now was a better time than any to admit his true feelings. He had to do it one day, and it just so happened to be in the depths of a forest as you hid from Imperials.

"I love you too." you exhaled shakily, thrusting forward into his arms and letting him hold you tight to his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"I love you so much." Din sobbed, his grip around you tightening like he was afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish just like Grogu did. "Please, never leave me. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Din," you promised. "Now c’mon, let's go get Grogu."

PART TWO

[foodieforthoughts]

Journey through time - Part 3

Summary: Your relationship with Syverson over the years.

Warning: a little bit of angst and a lot of fluff. If you blink you might also see some smut.

A/N: Continuation to Part 2 of the photo series. Here's a link to Part 1 too. Thank you all for reading. I love you guys 😘♥️

Staying alone in Sy's house gave you an opportunity to find out more about your man. You were cleaning his study when you found a box shoved at the very back of a drawer with pictures inside. The first picture was a black and white photo of young Sy, probably in his early twenties. It looked like a candid picture, clicked by someone who must have attentively watched him while he read through some papers. As you rummaged through the box, you found a couple more candid pictures and a hand written letter addressed to Sy.

The box also contained polaroid pictures of a much older Sy. You picked up the one which looked fairly recent, maybe from only a couple of years ago. He had his signature beard, dressed in his suit with his smoldering eyes staring back at you. Behind were the words, "I count myself as extremely fortunate to have accompanied you on your big night, my love." Signed only as "M". You got the sinking gut feeling that it was from an ex-girlfriend, but what affected you more was that Sy had kept her things still.

Opening the letter and finding another picture inside, you took a moment to look at your man. You had no clue who were those people with him in the picture which only made you realise how little you knew about Sy. The letter mentioned how the person felt like they weren't a part of Sy's life anymore. "I invested too many years to be with you and yet I am here, all alone. I can't take it anymore." It read, continuing to jot down ways in which the person felt lonely while Sy was away and that is why she was deciding to break off their relationship. Your hear sank as you read it over and over again, noting how the edges of the paper was crumbled from being opened too many times. Keeping the box back in its place, you couldn't help but think back on everything that was mentioned as the silence in the big house seemed to envelope you.

You stared at your computer screen showing that you were online, waiting for the green dot to appear on Sy's image signifying that he was online on Skype too. It was your birthday tonight and before leaving, Sy had promised he would have long distance birthday dinner with you over video call. You had cooked his favorite recipe of Sloppy Joe's and got his favorite beer brand, even if you hated the taste of it. Your wait for a few minutes turned to hours with your food gone cold and beer turned warm. You looked at the screen, noting that it was past midnight now and your birthday was over. You couldn't help but cry when you shut down your computer, leaving your food on the table untouched and crawling into bed while thinking back on the letter and imagining if this is exactly how the other girl might have felt.

You sucked in a deep breath before receiving the video call from Sy. It was unexpected and unplanned, but it made your heart swell when his face appeared on the screen. Sy did not smile, he looked lost and deep in thought. Even with the awful quality of the call, you noticed the new scars on his face and how he looked like he had aged over a decade. Your talks were formal, mostly asking about how the other had been, general talk about health and wellbeing. But then you couldn't help but blurt out, "You missed my birthday." Sy sighed, rubbing his hands over his face, "I'm sorry but I had a rough week." You wanted to be understanding but the letter kept repeating its words in your mind and when you looked around, you only saw the emptiness. "But you had promised about dinner on my birthday." In an instant, Sy's voice came out like rumbling thunder. "If you want someone to be at your beck and call, maybe you should think what the hell are you doing with me. I can't be there all the time, I have a job to do here." His roaring voice came out loud from your speakers, bringing tears in your eyes. Anger and sadness mixed together and with a trembling voice, you said, "Maybe I really should think what I'm doing with you. Goodbye, Sy." You disconnected the call with painful heaviness in your heart.

Over the next weeks, you got several calls from Sy but you only spoke to him asking him about his health. The moment he would try to talk about what happened over the video call, you would change the subject. Then one day you got a video message sent to you by Sy. It was being filmed by someone else while Sy stood with a spray painted green German Shepherd. You watched as Sy instructed the dog called "Aika" to fetch a writing pad with papers stuck to it from the steps of the building and turn it around to face the camera. Sy crouched down next to Aika and the first paper read, "I'm very sorry about missing your birthday." He turned the sheet of paper over and the next one had "I'm sorry about acting like a dick the other night." When he turned the paper again, it read in bold letters, "I love you and I don't want to lose you." You felt the stinging feel of tears in your eyes as Sy came forward and spoke directly into the camera, "Dinner with me tonight? I'll make up for everything, I promise." Before the video cut, you heard men laughing in the background with someone shouting, "Captain's so whipped!" and imitating the sound of a whip slashing through the air.

That night, dinner was less about eating and more about sharing your feelings. Sy listened to how you felt about him missing your birthday, apologising profusely about it and telling you he'll make up for it when he gets back. But you felt like a bitch when he told you about his week and how he had lost two of his men during an attack on them. It was now your turn to apologize with tears in your eyes as you imagined losing Sy. You didn't want to ruin the mood but you had to ask about the box. "Who's M, Sy?" You watched as his expression had turned solemn and he had sighed heavily. "I take that you found the box? She was my girlfriend before you. We had been together since college and I won't lie, I really wanted to marry her. But, I couldn't give her the kind of life she wanted." You could hear the sadness in his voice while he spoke. "Do you still love her?" he answered in an instant, "Of course not! I love you, babe. I want no one but you. You can even throw away the box if you want, I just never got back to it and throw it away myself." He then proceeded to tell you he wanted to make you feel his love and explained what he had planned, which made you blush but reluctantly you obliged. Even with the distance of many, many miles between the two of you, you pleasured one another over the call while repeatedly professing how much you loved each other.

You had bounced on your feet nervously while watching the arriving flights displayed on the screen. Sy was coming home and your excitement knew no bounds. His tour had been extended by four more weeks which meant you hadn't seen him in person for almost half a year. But family came first so when he had asked if he could go directly to Austin to meet his folks, you hadn't objected. "What's one more week until I meet you?" You had joked although deep down you craved to be in his arms again. When newly arrived passengers started filing out through the doors, your heart drummed in your chest with anticipation. You nearly skipped a beat when Sy walked out the door with his bags, thinking about the time when many months ago you had bumped into him at this very airport, searching through the crowd for you. His bearded face broke out into a huge smile when he spotted you and you almost made a run for him, launching yourself into his arms while planting kisses all over his face. "God, I missed you so much." He said, hugging you tightly to his chest and not letting go of you for a long time.

The very next day, Sy had taken you out for dinner at the most fancy restaurant in town. You noticed how he was fidgety and nervous, looking at his watch several times. It worried you even more when for the third time that night, he excused himself and left the table. You wondered if he was sick but then were left confused when all of a sudden the speakers started playing the familiar tune of your favorite romantic song. You looked around puzzled but was taken by surprise when Sy walked to you and dropped down on one knee. With a tender smile on his lips he said, "I never knew what I really wanted from my life until I met you. Countless times I have prayed to the heavens for making you bump into me on that day. I was at the right place at the right time, for I met the most amazing and beautiful woman on this planet." You felt you heart pick up a pace knowing exactly what Sy was going to do. Fishing out a blue velvet box from his pocket and opening it to reveal a magnificent diamond ring, Sy continued, "Darlin' will you marry me and make me the luckiest man alive?" There was no hesitation in your voice when you nodded fervently and repeated "yes" several times, hugging and kissing Sy before he placed the ring on your finger while everyone around clapped for the two of you.

Continued to Part 4