#another i had um basically looked through years of posts to see if they had this one thing-- they did And then i never looked at their blo

[obnoxiousarcade]

I have so many weird bonds with Tumblr users lol But it's all one sided

[mariasont]

EEEEK your post prison fic for spencer is fREAking me out!!! could you maybe do one where spencer is now teasing the reader a bit? maybe he's giving her extra praise and she freaks (what would i do if he called me a good girl? 😩) (this is very indulgent to my praise kink i'm so so sorry 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️) tytyty!! i adore love and cherish you and your work 💕

I Aim To Please - S.R

a/n: shewwwwww to be complimented by post prison spencer fucking reid. im drooling!!!! but anyway babes i adore & love YOU!!!! so thank u so so sooo much for requesting 💖💖

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x shy!media-liaison!reader

warnings: spencer being hot, reader being shy girl, spencer being a little shit who loves to tease

wc: 1.5k

There were a few basic rules you had established from working at BAU. First, avoid Rossi at all costs until he’s had at least two cups of coffee. Second, never attempt to outwit Emily; she’ll see right through you and crush your argument every single time. And third—perhaps the most crucial—do everything in your power to maintain your freaking composure around Dr. Reid.

That last one, however, was proving to be a monumental challenge. It wasn’t just the way he spoke, his brain firing off at a speed only he could keep up with. It wasn’t even the way he seemed oblivious to how endearing those very quirks were. No, it was the fact that the simple act of him breathing in your direction had you scrambling to hold yourself together. And honestly you were failing miserably.

Which is why you spent most of your time holed up in your office. It wasn’t much—just a desk, a slightly uncomfortable chair, and a perpetually growing stack of case files that seemed determined to bury you. But it offered privacy, and that was enough. Here you could breathe, decompress, and occasionally allow yourself to daydream about a certain genius profiler without the risk of public humiliation.

The bullpen was proving to be too chaotic, too close to him. Your office gave you distance, a buffer. But, as you had come to learn, hiding only worked when he didn’t decide to seek you out. And Spencer Reid had a knack for finding you when you least expected it.

"Hey."

You jumped slightly, nearly fumbling the stack of press notes you’d been carefully organizing.

Turning toward the door, you found Spencer leaning casually against the frame, a file tucked under one arm and a distracted sort of smile on his face. His tie was slightly loosened, his sleeves rolled up just enough to expose his forearms, and—just like that—your brain completely short-circuited.

"Hi," you said, trying not to sound too startled. "Do you, um, need something?"

"Yeah." He further into the room, lifting the file in explanation. "I was looking at the local coverage of our case, and I noticed a couple discrepancies in the timeline published."

"Oh,” you said softly, quickly shuffling the press notes into a messy pile and pushing them to the side. "Well, um, sometimes reporters try to fill gaps when they don't the facts. It's... frustrating, but it happens."

You glanced up at him briefly, but that look of his made your cheeks warm. Your fingers twisted together in your lap as you tried to focus on anything other than how ridiculously self-conscious you suddenly felt.

"That makes sense. I figured you'd know."

Instead of lingering in the doorway or leaving like you assumed he would, Spencer, casually grabbed the chair across from your desk. He spun it around in one fluid motion and sat it backwards, draping his arms on the backrest with an ease that felt strangely familiar—like you had been friends or colleagues for years instead of just a few months.

"I'll reach out to them about fixing the timeline," you said, your hand instinctively moving a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You clasped your hands together to still them, offering a small, nervous smile. "It shouldn't be too hard to correct."

"Thanks," he said. "That'll probably save from giving another long-winded lecture on factual reporting."

You gave a quiet laugh, grateful for the distraction from your tasks, though you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about the company. Not that you didn’t enjoy his company—there was plenty to enjoy, more than you cared to admit. If you could manage to function like a normal human being around him, you might even look forward to moments like this.

But then he tilted his head slightly, his eyes studying you as if he were unraveling some kind of puzzle and for one terrifying second, you were convinced he could hear every single thought racing through your mind.

"So," he began, "how are you liking it here so far? The job, I mean. Is it what you expected?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. "Oh, um... yeah. It's been great so far. Busy, but... I like it."

"That's good," he said, nodding. "I know it’s not exactly the most predictable job. Some people don't expect it to be so... chaotic."

"Well," you said, fidgeting slightly with your pen. "I knew what I was signing up for. Or, at least I thought I did. It's a lot, but it's rewarding."

"That's a good attitude to have," he said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Honestly, you're doing a great job. I don't know how you manage to keep everything straight."

Your heart leaped, thudding in your chest as warmth flooded your face. You weren’t used to hearing compliments, especially from someone like him. You wanted to savor the moment, to bottle up the way his words made you feel, but your nerves refused to let you fully enjoy it.

"I'm just, um, organized I guess,” you stammered, your hand flying up to rub at the back of your neck.

"More than just organized," he replied easily, completely unaware of how his words were affecting you. "You've got half the team wrapped around your finger already. Even Rossi listen when you talk. That's impressive."

Your face burned. "I think that's more about respect for the job than me."

Spencer shrugged lightly, as he was watching you, like he didn't quite believe you. "Maybe. Or maybe you're just better at this than you give yourself credit for."

You let out a nervous chuckle, fingers twitching as you fiddled with the corner of the paper in front of you.

"I don't... I don't know about that."

He tilted his head, again, his brow quirking. "Do you know how to take a compliment?"

"Of course I do." You were sure your voice lacked the conviction needed.

He smirked, leaning forward over the chair. "Doesn't seem like it."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words stuck in your throat, tangled in the frantic web that was your thoughts around this infuriating man.

"Well, uh, you’ve only done it twice, so I don’t think that’s enough for you to judge."

His grin widened. "Oh? So you’re saying I should try again? For research purposes?"

Your eyes widened, and you blinked rapidly as if to process his words, your hands shooting up as if to physically block the implication. "I—uh—no, that's not what I meant.”

"No, no," he said, sitting up straighter and waiving off your flustered attempt to deflect. "I aim to please. If more compliments are what you’re after, I’ve got plenty.”

"Please, no."

"You're incredibly efficient. Seriously, I think you've managed to anticipate what the team needs before we even know we need it. And your ability to keep your cool under pressure? That's impressive. I mean, do you even get stressed? Because if you do, you hide it really well."

"Dr. Reid—," you squeaked, covering your face with your hands as if that could somehow shield you from the onslaught of praise.

"And," he continued, clearly now enjoying himself. "You're probably the most patient person, I've ever met. Which is something, considering you work with people who constantly interrupt and derail your perfectly planned press briefings."

Your stomach flipped, and you felt a flush of heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment pooling in your chest. As much as you wanted to sink to the floor, the way he looked at you sent every nerve in your body spiraling. Each word felt like it was tailored to you, peeling back the very thin veneer of control you’d desperately tried to maintain over the massive crush you found yourself drowning in.

Your head dropped to the desk with a soft thunk, muffling your groan. "Okay, okay, I get it."

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his chin on his arms atop the chair. "Now what do you say?"

"Thank you."

He smirked widened. "See? That wasn't so hard was it?"

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you averted your eyes, trying to hide the nervous smile tugging at your lips. "You didn't have to go on and on..."

"Oh, but I did." He was still grinning. "You deserved it."

You risked a glance back at him, losing your cool by the second. That only made your face heat up more. "You're impossible."

"And yet, you haven't kicked me out of your office."

"That's only because I didn’t think it would work."

"Well," he said, turning towards the door. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you didn't mind the compliments."

You opened your mouth to protest but no words came out. Instead, you watched helplessly as he shot you one last smile before disappearing into the hallway.

When the door finally clicked shut behind him, you let out a shaky breath and drop your head back onto the desk.

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[typeofraccoon]

Hiii um can I request a fluff five x reader fic where the reader is also an adult stuck in their teenage body, and has a demeanor similar to Lila, they’re like super smart but always some of the most off-the-wall shit that doesn’t really sound smart at first but after a minute of thinking you’re like ‘oh shit Ok yeah that makes sense’. (Sorry if this doesn’t make much sense btw)

-rem

Part Of It

Five Hargreeves x Reader

Five Hargreeves Masterlist

I'm gonna make this kinda in an au where s3 didn't happen and Lila went with the Hargreeves instead of just leaving at the end of s2 and Ben's alive like actually alive not a ghost.

Also sorry if this isn't what you were thinking of.

Warnings: Not proof read, unfinished? and I basically had this finished so I just went through some of it and decided to post it. Even though this isn't too long and might not make sense.

Word count = 1,144

Description: Your remarks make even Five confused sometimes but it's part of why he loves you.

As the sun shone through the window and past the open curtains you rolled over in your bed reaching out next to you. After not feeling anyone you open your eyes squinting at the light that was flooding into the room. You sit up rubbing the sleep from your eyes getting ready to open them again.

When you had opened them you slung your legs over the edge of the bed and grabbed your slippers. Once you had put your slippers on you planted your feet on the ground and pushed yourself up off the bed. Now standing you walk towards the closet to get ready for the day.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You were now making your way to the kitchen to get a morning coffee and hopefully find the person that was missing from your bed when you woke up.

As you were walking down the stairs you saw Lila walking up them towards you. She smiled at you and started to talk "Fives in the kitchen making another pot of coffee."

You look at her questioningly with an amused grin on your face already knowing what she meant but decided to ask anyway. "What do you mean another pot?"

Her grin widened as she lifted a mug in her hand while saying "Diego isn't awake yet, and both me and him need our morning coffee." As she finishes her sentence you notice another mug in her other hand. "There was just enough for two cups, luckily."

You both chuckled a little before saying bye to each other walking the opposite ways again.

Now you knew that Five wouldn't be cheerful in the morning already but with Lila having taken Fives coffee you knew it would be easy to piss him off. You were already thinking of some way to distract Five from Lila so that he wouldn't be plotting revenge for the rest of the day.

When you walked into the kitchen you noticed Five hovering over the coffee pot mumbling something under his breath. You smile slightly realising that this is your chance to try and scare Five. Something that he had never given you any chance to do before and had actually said that you'd never be able to do.

As you snuck up behind him you got ready to say what you had planned in an effort to also distract him from what you were about to do as well.

When you were close enough to him you started talking relatively loud before wrapping your arms around him. "You know that if you lived for 70 years you'd have spent like 10 years of your life on Monday."

You felt Five jump slightly your smile grow wider at your successful attempt at scaring him even slightly. You let go of him and Five turned to face you. When you could finally see his face he looked confused and you smiled sweetly up at him.

You were looking at him innocently as if you hadn't just said something that you knew he had to think about. Then Five turned back around to the coffee pot and picked it up getting ready to pour coffee into his cup.

As he started to pour the coffee into his cup he spoke to you. "What do you mean by that?"

When he finished talking you started to clarify why you had brought it up. "Well think about it you're technically 58. So in 12 years you'll have lived 10 years of your life on a Monday."

You were looking up at him with a sweet smile on your face as you were talking. When you had finished talking he had filled his cup up with coffee.

When he went to place the coffee pot back in it's rightful place you quickly grabbed his cup and walked to the table. By the time that Five had realised that you had taken his cup you had already sat in one of the chairs and started to sip from the cup.

Five looked at you with a fed up look before sighing and turning back around. But you noticed his mouth turn into a slight smile just before he managed to fully turn around.

"Did you really have to take my coffee?" He said while going to take out another cup from the cupboard.

You watched his movements "Yep." You responded to him with a smile.

When he had grabbed another cup he turned back around to look at you before starting to talk again. "Even if that was correct wouldn't all the time travelling change that."

You thought for a second while drinking. "I mean... that would depend on if you time travelled perfectly then technically my point still stands" As you finished talking you were looking at him.

Five had grabbed the coffee pot once again and started to pour it into his new cup while he was looking right at you. He sighed before an adoring smile was brought to his face and he chuckled slightly before he responded. "Fair enough."

He placed the coffee pot back where he had just placed it a couple of minutes ago. He brought his cup to his lips and took a sip of the coffee before he started to walk towards you.

He smiled lovingly at you and sat in the chair next to yours before he started talking trying to continue the conversation. "So when I actually do turn 70 then I will have spent at least 10 years of my life on a Monday."

You looked at him excited. "'Exactly! See that's still interesting."

When you finished the sentence you laughed slightly while looking up at him. Meanwhile he just rolled his eyes at you while taking another sip of his coffee.

He looked into your eyes before starting to speak to you again. "So since you're so certain about that. Do you know how many years we will have been together in 12 years?" As he was finishing his sentence he leaned closer to you and smirked once again.

You leaned in closer to Five as well and closed your eyes confidently with a smile on your face. "Well actually it will have been about nineteen years since we first met and about fifteen years since we started dating."

Five smiled lovingly at you and leaned back slightly to take another slightly longer sip of his coffee. When he brought the cup back away from his lips, his smile still prominently glued to his face he started to lean back in towards you while placing his cup on the table beside him.

Once Five was a couple of inches away from you he spoke again. "Sorry but you're wrong there darling. " When he finished his sentence he chuckled slightly. "By then we would've met seventeen years ago and it would have been dating for fifteen years."

[justmeinadaze]

Hi! I’m 23 but requesting anonymously because this is a similar situation I experienced and wished someone would have been there for me.

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Steddie x reader story where the reader recently lost her grandma who she lived with in a two bedroom apartment. It’s left the reader financially strapped and she posts an ad for a roommate. Steve and Eddie are looking for a place and sees the ad. Steve is a nurse and Eddie is a mechanic or masseuse (two extremes but I feel like Eddie is always a mechanic lol).

The reader is really withdrawn and struggling with grief because her grandma was all she had. She is working two jobs and not taking care of herself. She wears herself out and gets sick. She’s really resistant to letting anyone take care of her. And she doesn’t talk to Steve and Eddie much because she’s trying to hide her struggles and doesn’t want to bother them. And it’s an adjustment to living with other people. Steve and Eddie have a huge soft spot for the reader and want to take care of her.

There can be smut or no smut in this or if it would happen to turn into two or more parts! You’re a talented writer so I have no doubt you will write this beautifully!

A/N: It took me awhile to get to this because it struck a cord with me. I get this. I am this minus a Steve and Eddie.

I think I've mentioned it before but my father suddenly passed away 10 years ago and it destroyed me. I still deal with the aftermath of that to this day. Not only do I struggle with that grief but I struggle with how I was and have been treated which is why I am a big advocate on taking the time to feel what you feel and no matter what anyone says THERE IS NO TIME LIMIT ON GRIEF.

The doctor experience I write in this story happened to me and the chaos of that...I can't even... But yeah...more than anything I want anyone who's grieving a loved one to know, you are not alone, you are not broken, your feelings are valid, and I love you <3.

The title of this comes from "Guernica" by Brand New. I was thinking of this song when I got the request because the lead singer wrote it for his grandfather who was sick in the hospital.

P.S. I am more than willing to write another part to this. I wanted to focus on the emotional aspect more than a smutty aspect for this first part.

Warnings: Topic of Grief and loss of a family member, panic attack mentioned in slight detail, Steve and Eddie have an established relationship here.

"I submit no excuse

If this is what I have to do

I owe you every day I wake

If I could I would shrink myself

Sink through your skin to your blood cells

Remove whatever makes you hurt

But I am too weak to be your cure

Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?

I am the watch you always wear but you forget to wind."

“So, um, yeah the rent is $1300 including utilities and it’s due on the first of the month. You can leave it on the counter here and I can take it down to make the payment.”

Watching them go through her room was like being stabbed in the chest. When your grandmother passed, a part of you died with her and it killed you even more when you had to slowly begin removing things from her room to make space for a new roommate. Your grandma was your everything basically being a mother to you when everyone else disappeared. When she got sick it, it was no brainer to have her move in so you could look out for her with as much love and care as she had you growing up. 

For four years, she fought her disease until heaven decided it was time for her to go home. After that you began to spiral and not just personally but within life. When did everything become so expensive? Even in your rent-controlled apartment, you could barely afford the bills because everything else around you escalated to the point where now you couldn’t even take out a small loan to get groceries because your credit was so fucked up. 

You didn’t want to get a roommate and avoided the notion as long as possible but when it was becoming harder and harder to live day to day, you finally gave in. 

You were surprised when a boy answered your ad you had placed in the paper but when he told you their story, you couldn’t help but sympathize. 

“Yeah, my boyfriend and I are looking for a nice, safe place. The small town we were living in was already harassing him for the way he looks but when they found out we were together… I knew I needed to get us both out of there.”

“We can take it if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of everything.”, the pretty boy who introduced himself as Steve responded as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“I mean it’s no problem. I work a couple of jobs so I usually leave pretty early anyway.”

“Me to. Well, it’s more like me coming in early because I work overnights from time to time. I’m not sure if the hospital over here is the same but… yeah. What, um, what do you think, babe?”

The longhaired boy who told you his name was Eddie beamed widely your way.

“I love it. Are you sure we won’t be bothering you, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, we swear.”

“No. No bother.”

Both men glance towards each other at your sullen tone before Steve extended his hand towards you with an equal large but soft smile of his own. 

“We’ll take it.”

***

You didn’t anticipate how hard it was going to be having someone in the apartment again let alone people that reminded you of her. Before she retired, your grandmother was a nurse and when the scent of hand sanitizer and hospital lingered on Steve’s admittedly beautiful hands, your mind shifted to the stories she would tell you about her late nights talking with patients in her care. 

Through smell alone, you learned Eddie got a job as a mechanic at the shop down the street and the first night when the aroma of gasoline lingered you cried at the memories of being a little girl with your grandparents, sitting by your grandfather’s truck as he attempted to fix it for the 400th time. 

Loneliness began to set in almost immediately after they moved in. They never actively displayed affection in front of you but there were moments when you were leaving for work and you’d pass by their open bedroom door to see them cuddled together. Sometimes at night when you would come home from your second job, you would hear Eddie talking to Steve over the phone while he was at work and he would giggle at something the man said on the other line before telling him how much he loved him. 

You missed having someone care about you…

Your grandparents had always been there for you through everything; every breakup, rough patch in life, or just to have someone remind you that you were loved unconditionally…they were there. 

When your grandmother lived with you, you laughed harder, smiled wider, and loved waking up in the morning. Now that all seemed so far away, so unattainable. You couldn’t ever picture yourself being happy like that again. 

To avoid that pain, you ran around constantly. It’s not like you could stop anyway with how hard things got around you. Life moves on…you can’t stop just because you’re numb. You suffer through it just like everyone else. 

“Y/N?”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice, you jumped shattering the glass in your hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. That was my fault. You seemed lost in thought. Don’t move, I can clean this up here.”

Nodding, you stood still as you watched him run to grab a broom before your brain caught up with you.

“Wait! Wait, um, don’t…don’t throw away the glass. This was, um, someone in my family gave me this cup.”

“Oh, uh, ok. Well, I don’t see a lot of little pieces. I can try and fix it for you. Do you feel comfortable coming into our room?”

Silently, you headed in that direction, pausing in front of the bed as the metalhead shimmed around you to dig in the desk drawer by the window. Everything in the room was completely different. Where her bed with her yellow comforter used to be was now a bigger bed, higher off the ground with black sheets and blue pillowcases. Where her dresser used to be with the vanity that had photos taped to the mirror was now a much smaller 3 drawer shelf with a guitar hanging above it. On the nightstand, instead of medication and a photo of you with your grandparents, there was now a pack of cigarettes, empty beer cans, a photo of both men, and a book that was half read. 

“Ok, I knew Steve had it around here somewhere. I’m clumsy as hell so he’s always fixing things I accidently break.”, Eddie mused as he sat on the floor and began to focus on his task. “So, um, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but breathily laugh at the awkward way he asked that making him smirk at the sound as you took a seat in front of him.

“I’m alright. I just have a lot going on, you know?”

“Yeah, you come and go a lot like Steve but he gets to sleep. What do you do if I may ask?”

“I’m actually a photographer for the paper.”

“Oooo paparazzi girl!” Eddie’s grin grows as his eyes take you in watching you genuinely laugh for the first time since they met you. “Is that why you come and go at weird hours?”

“Oh, no. When I’m not there, I have another job at the mall taking photos of like families and kids at Glamour Shots.”

“Yeah? Those shiny, glimmering photos? I keep trying to get Steve to take a couple of those with me but he gets adorably embarrassed.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Geez, uh, almost 3 years now. Spent the first couple hiding our relationship because of our town and his parents, rich fuckers who think they control the moral high ground.”, he rolls his eyes. “A few months ago, he finally told them we were together and his parents kicked him out of his house. A couple weeks later, I got harassed at my job and that was the final straw. Steve packed our things and we drove out here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No reason for you to be, princess. You’ve been nothing but nice to us. Well, when we see you.”, he chuckles. “Steve gets worried sometimes that you push yourself too hard.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m strong. I’ll be ok.”

“No one’s saying your weak, Y/N.”

“Good because I’m not!” You snap as silence falls over the room before Eddie displays the cup for you with his palm on the bottom. 

“You may not want to use it for its purpose but keep it as a display.”

Without taking it from him, you rise to your feet and run to your room, slamming the door. 

###########

Everything was loud.

Why is everything so loud?

You were running late for your second job and you couldn’t find the polo you wore for it. You felt disgusting, not having time to shower in what felt like an eternity and you were just so fucking exhausted. You couldn’t afford to lose this job nor calling in to rest. You had to make money. It’s what everyone else does.

Why is everything so loud?

As you opened your door, you were met with Eddie standing at the counter in the kitchen. 

“Have, um, have you seen…”

“Y/N, are you alright?” Tears cloud your vision as you run your fingers through your hair and absently look around the apartment with your eyes. “BABE.”

You flinched at the metalhead’s loud but stern tone not even realizing that Steve was suddenly in front of you with his hands on your biceps. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Let me go! I have…I have to…to go to work…”, you sobbed before your legs gave out and the world went black. 

***

When your eyes finally fluttered open, it was pitch dark outside and your body felt incredibly drained. It felt like every bone in your body had become stiff as you carefully tried to sit up. 

“Hey, no, no, no. Don’t move to quickly or we’ll lose you again.”, Steve cooed softly as he came up from behind you and sat down on his knees to help adjust you. “Good. Here, drink some of this but not too fast.”

When he handed you the bottle of water, you gladly sipped it as his concerned eyes scanned you over. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy.”

“I’m not surprised. When you push your body as hard as you have at some point it pushes back. Do you think you can eat something while we talk?”

When you nodded, a plate appeared beside you as Eddie handed it to his partner.

“I’m going to ask you some questions purely from a medical standpoint, ok? Do you feel comfortable if Ed stays? He had a bit of a panic attack to when we couldn’t wake you up.”

“That’s fine.”, you whisper. “Is that what happened? I panicked?”

“Um, kind of, honey. This kind of seems like a slow build so I would say anxiety attack. We know you work pretty much around the clock and you told me when I called that you were struggling with cash. Has anything else been going on?”

“Someone…that mattered to me…is gone. Died.”

Eddie sat on the couch next you and without thinking brushed some of your hair behind your ear so they could see your face better. 

“I’m sorry. How long ago?”, the nurse continued to inquire. 

“On the 18th it will be 8 months.”

“And you’ve been doing everything you have?! Y/N.”, the metalhead sighed as his boyfriend gave him a look of warning as if to say tread carefully. “Sweetheart, you should be taking it easy so you can grieve.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be fine by now.”, you murmur as you shrug your shoulders. “After my grandmother died, I got 2 weeks paid leave for bereavement. Two weeks. Two weeks of fucking casseroles, sympathies, and people checking in. After that time, everyone began to slowly disappear and I went back to work but I never…I never felt whole. I didn’t understand why everyone else seemed fine while I was still felt like I was dying.”

“After two months, I went to a doctor and told them how I felt. Do you know what she said? ‘After 6 weeks, it’s no longer grief but depression.’ That shook me. I thought to myself ‘well shit. I guess there is a time limit on grieving and there must be something wrong with me because I can’t get better!’” 

The tears begin to fall at a faster pace and you let them go. 

“I still have to work, pay my bills, live my life… but no one ever walked me through how to do that. No one ever showed me how to continue existing without the person you love…without someone who meant the most to you… I wasn’t prepared to be left alone without her.”

Eddie presses your head to his chest as you sob, his arms squeezing you tightly as he whispered that you were ok. Sudden heat warmed your side as Steve leaned his head against your shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with yours while your body trembled against them. 

This had been a long time coming and you allowed the pain to wash over you till you fell asleep in their arms. 

***

This time when you opened your eyes, you were bundled up in a blanket with your head still against Eddie’s chest with one hand comfortingly rubbing your arm while the other held a book he was reading. 

“What are you reading?”

Tilting his head, his gentle eyes take you in as he grins and closes the book to show you the cover. 

The Vampire Lestat.

“I love vampires but Steve likes werewolves. Should have known he’d break my heart one day.”, he teased as the other boy comes around and places a soda with more food on the coffee table in front of you. 

“They are big dog like animals. How can you not like them? Y/N, I want you to at least eat a little bit of this, ok? You need to refuel.”

Not wanting to leave the metalheads comfortable embrace, you whine as you sit up until the smell of the pasta hits your nostrils and you realize how hungry you actually are. 

“Slow! Goodness.”, Steve chuckles as he takes a seat on floor after serving his partner and himself as well. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal. Usually, I’m eating microwaved food or something I pick up on the way to and from work. This is delicious, Steve, thank you.”

The three of you casually talk allowing you to really get to the know the men you had been living with. Eddie loved music and had been playing guitar since he was a little boy. He and his uncle had been fixing up cars since he moved in with him after his father went to jail. Steve learned in high school he enjoyed helping people and after he graduated he went to nursing school. 

“My dad gave me shit because I’m ‘settling’ and not becoming a doctor. I like what I do though. As a nurse I get more one on one with patients and make them feel cared for which as you noticed is hard in today’s society. Doctors seem to care more about the money and not the person.”

His eyes drink in your demeanor as you smile, agreeing with his words. Your entire energy seemed different since the first time they met you. You seemed to be relaxing a bit more and some of what he assumed was your normal personality began to shine through. 

“What about you, honey? Eddie told me you’re a photographer.”

Silently, you unraveled the blanket you had been tangled in and bounced to your bedroom, returning with some photos that you placed on the coffee table in front of them. 

“This man here proposed to this girlfriend by painting a mural on the side of an abandoned building that the city was going to tear down. The mayor called it graffiti and they tried arresting him for it.”

“Oh, wow. That’s gorgeous. I hope this guy is making a ton of money in like New York or something.”, the longhaired boy grins.

“This young lady saved her baby brother from a fire.”

“This are amazing, Y/N. You are extremely talented. “

 “What was this story about?”, Steve asked as he held up a photo of an older woman smiling on the couch by a window watching the rain. 

“That’s my grandma.”, you softly smile as you take it from his hands. “This was about a year before she… I remember we were talking about some trivial stuff and suddenly she turned to me and said ‘Life is beautiful. Even something as small as listening to the rain is never something you should take for granted.’”

“I like that.”, Eddie responded with a tender tone that made you feel safe. “She was right. I know it’s hard with all the bullshit going on in the world but… I think we do need to stop and take a look around, you know?”

“Y/N, honey, we hope you know that you don’t have to do everything yourself. We can help you. We have some money in savings if you need to take a break and—”

“No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, we’re offering.”, Steve insisted. “At least, quit your second job. You need a moment to breathe. We can help with any extra bills you may have until you really get back on your feet.”

Tilting forward, you kissed his cheek before leaning towards Eddie to do the same. 

“Thank you…so much…”

################

Over the next week, you felt more motivated to do things you hadn’t wanted to do over the past 8 months. You did what Steve suggested and quit your job at the mall. You began moving around and leaving the apartment for fun things instead of work. You accompanied the boys to a movie at the theater and took them to the lake where you basked in the sunlight all day. 

You took the time to eat healthier, home cooked meals even offering to make your roommates a meal every now and again. Sometimes when you knew Steve would be out all night, you left some leftovers in the refrigerator and wake up the next morning with a note on the counter thanking you with a big smiley face.

One morning, however, you were surprised with something different. When you opened your bedroom door to get some coffee, you noticed a box with a big red bow on the top and a piece of paper attached to the side. 

“Y/N,

There’s no bottom to the box so all you need to do is lift. I was afraid if we put this in an actual box it may break. Steve said it would be ok but I reminded him he fixes people not objects : ). 

Eddie’s been working on this for a while but we thought after how well you’ve been doing, we just wanted to show you how proud we are of you and how much we’ve enjoyed having you in our lives.

Eddie & Steve”

Carefully lifting the wrapped box and placing it aside, you picked up the glass you had dropped and Eddie had tried to fix. The blank material now had an image of your grandmother you had showed them illustrated on to it with her head turned towards the window. Instead of watching the rain, when she looked out the window there was a detailed drawing of you grinning with your fingers tangled in your hair as you were moving it behind your ear.

He had painted it with light colors, giving her an angelic glow that broke you as you began to cry.

Your feet scooted against the floor as you hurried towards their door and knocked on it a bit too enthusiastically causing it to fly open with a panicked look on the metalhead’s half asleep face. 

“What!? What’s going on? Where’s the fire?!”

You tackled your arms around his neck, not even realizing he was only in boxers. From the bed, Steve saw what was in your hand, smirking as he fell back against the pillow and slung his arm over his eyes.

“Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”, you whispered. 

When he finally realized nothing was wrong, his arms settled around your waist.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. You’re not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, ok?” As you pull away and let him go, his hands cup your face as he dries your tears. “Now go back to bed, you fucking weirdo. It’s too early.”, he teases as he lightly pushes you away making you giggle as he turns back around and crawls into bed.

“May I—”

Before you can finish your sentence, he lifts up the covers and Steve pats the mattress between them. Once you climb in, the pretty boy lifts his arm and circles it around you to tug you closer to his side. When your head rests on his bare chest, your surprised at how warm and comfortable he feels against you, looping your arm around him as you nuzzle into his skin. Another set of arms wrap around your waist pressing you against Eddie’s equally comforting frame. 

His steady breath hitting your shoulder mixed with the other man’s heartbeat lulls you into the heaviest sleep you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

#############

Steddie Asks

[poorlemons]

A little look-back through 2024, how fun!

January

Certainly a range going on, dungeon meshi, moomin, rottmnt, and whatever is happening to Rhode. I don't think I really drew much during Jan, all things considered.

February

A failed attempt at amphiburary- school took over, or something- and a lot of oc art! overall I did more art that month and while some of it bugs me, and i dont have pleasant memories attached to it, i still like a lot of what I did. Got experimental 'n stuff!

March

Its all OC art baybe!! and some stuff included that I never posted. Rhode (the ginger with glasses) is my special little guy and I had plenty happening in a rp thing I do. You can see how his nose hadn't reached its full evolution yet.

April

Again with the oc stuff! Rhode persists! March was the eclipse, which honestly I forgot happened this year... man that feels like so long ago. Also, I did some stuff with my magical girl ocs, a rare treat! I honestly really like that art set I did, the magazine idea was cute

May-June

I did a lot of mostly complete artworks these two months, but theyre 90% oc art so I figured i could shove them together. You can see me experimenting with coloring and rendering in some of these. Also, I visited rottmnt again for a lil bit in June! Honestly I was having a great time drawing me and my friend's ocs

July

And so I discovered Reigen. Plus some more rhode n other ocs. But mostly it was Reigen. Mob psycho is great, i had a great time watching it. Kinda wanna go back and rewatch it but all for another day.

August

didn't draw as much in august, i had a really fun trip I went on that I spent the month preparing for! Love ren fairs. But what i did draw was (drum roll) oc art! Rhode, Lamp, Ann and otheres- theres a decent variety here. Still mostly Rhode, though.

September-October (and so my Michael obsession begins)

So um. Michael, amiright? honestly i have so much fun drawing both michaels, its a damn delight. ive been so happy at the reception of them from everyone too- i draw michael solely for myself but i do like it when my work makes others happy

November

Honestly some good michael art from november. plus the creation of Clear Image AU! I have less to say about these last too months, since itd be less looking back and more recapping what is basically yesterday.

December

And so ends the year.. More michael, some Lyf, some oc art, all the fun stuff. Plus... a little sneak peak at the expert testimony animatic im working on in the upper righthand corner.

Happy new years, fingers crossed for a better 2025 for everyone!

[pukanavis]

Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 2

ーA basic studio within the ES building, two years since the establishment of ES

Fuyume: …

Midori: …

(What am I supposed to do?)

(This new kid…Hanamura-san, was it? The staff told him that I'm going to be using my experience in the field to guide him through today’s job.)

(It’s already been a whole 20 minutes since then and neither of us have said a word to each other..)

Fuyume: …

Midori: (I-I have to do what they told me to and teach him what he needs to do. I know I suck at this stuff but between the two of us, I’m the one who’s more familiar with this type of work.)

(But there’s no way I can bring myself to do it. I really, really don’t want to.)

(This kid is radiating an aura that screams ‘don’t talk to me’...this whole time, he’s been doing something on his phone while occasionally whispering and muttering to himself.)

(I think…he’s even been taking selfies and posting them online…?)

(It feels like he’s in a world of his own making.)

(I’m scared~, I don’t like it~ , I don’t wanna talk to him~...)

(Now that I think about it, he was there listening when the staff put me in charge of coaching him so he must know what’s going on too.)

(He should be turning to me and saying something like ‘Please give me your guidance, Senpai!’. It’s the polite thing to do, really.)

Fuyume: …Um.

Midori: !? Y-Yes? What’s the matter…?

Fuyume: …They’re calling Yume.

Midori: (Huh, what does that mean? Is he one of those people that hear voices that aren’t there? Is he 'cuckoo', as people used to say?)

Fuyume: It looks like it’s time for Yume to go up now.

Midori: (Oh, right, the staff are calling for him. Seems like they’re ready to start the shoot.)

(What do I do? I didn’t teach him how to do a single thing.)

(From what I’ve heard, it sounds like this kid is a popular amateur model? I think they call it a cos…player?)

(There’s no need for me to come in acting high and mighty and tell him what to do, right?)

(I bet he’s already familiar with how these jobs work. He seems so confident for some reason…?)

Fuyume: Fufufu. Yume will do his best.

Today, you’re all invited to step into Yume’s world

Fuyume: Sniffle. Sniffle sniffle.

Midori: (What am I supposed to do?)

(All that confidence he was giving off was just a front…)

(He doesn’t know the first thing about professional modelling and kept insisting on using methods from his amateur days.)

(I wonder what that one staff member did to have this kid going off at him the entire time? Just when I thought he’s behaving well, he suddenly started berating and denying that guy’s humanity.)

(Not to mention all the complaints he has about the lighting or the costume...)

(He started telling the staff to take pictures from his cutest angle and even asked to wear the outfit he had brought along himself.)

(After all the back and forth, it was agreed to put the shoot on hold for a while. When this guy realised the staff weren’t going to listen to his opinions, that's when the tears started...)

(The staff asked me to see if I could do something to motivate him or change his mindset but…is that even in the job description? Shouldn’t this be the responsibility of a manager or something?)

(Who am I kidding? We probably wouldn’t be in this mess if I had just done my job and shown him what to do from the start.)

(I’m at fault here too, so I feel like I should at least do something.)

Fuyume: Midori-sama.

Midori: Huh? Yes, what’s…wait, ‘Midori-sama’ ?

Fuyume: Yume has seen you in a magazine before and thought you were as dashing as a prince. Fufu.

So you’re Midori-sama. ‘Cause you’re a prince. Fufufu.

Needless to say, you don’t have what it takes to be called Yume’s prince, since that title is already taken by another.

There is no sin in beauty. Fufufufu.

Midori: (Huh…? What is he talking about…? I don’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth. Are all the kids like this these days…?)

(Hey, wait a second? He’s acting surprisingly unfazed for somebody that I thought was crying into his hands just a minute ago? Was he faking it…?)

Fuyume: Melon soda, plum and kelp tea, coffee.

Midori: ? What? Are you casting some kind of spell?

Fuyume: I’m trying to make the drink that Esu found during his adventure. What else was in it again…?

Midori: I-It’s going to taste awful if you mix so many random flavours together.

Fuyume: I’ll be able to drink it. I will drink it. I want to relive Esu’s story for myself.

Bottoms up. Glug glug…

……

Fuyume: …

Midori: Tastes awful, huh…? I warned you not to drink it. You can tell just from looking at it how bad of an idea that is.

Here, spit it into this cup.

Fuyume: Urgh, Yume has a long way to go.

His image of a perfect princess is still far out of reach.

—I’m sorry, Midori-sama.

Midori: Uh, for what? I can’t keep up with this conversation…

Fuyume: Yume messed up again…he couldn’t keep his ego in check and screwed up the job. He even made Midori-sama mad.

So…Yume is sorry.

Midori: Oh, uh, you did cause a lot of problems but…no, nevermind, that’s not true. I should be apologising too. I was trusted to be your mentor but I haven’t taught you a single thing.

I’ve failed as a senpai, huh?

Fuyume: It’s alright. Besides, even if you had given Yume some pointers, if he didn’t like what he heard, he'd probably just get annoyed and ignore you.

He’s always been like this—so egotistical. It’s the only princess quality he has.

Regardless, Yume is sorry. The staff member that Yume was blowing up at was someone he had met before. They'd shown up to one of Yume’s photo shoots in the past with a super bigheaded attitude.

They were giving out business cards and masquerading as a professional. It was seriously the worst, they started taking over and ruined the mood on set.

A photo shoot is supposed to be a part of Yume’s world.

Ever since that day, Yume hasn’t been able to forget all the hate and frustration that he felt. When he saw that they were here today, he couldn’t stop his emotions from bursting out.

Yume can’t stand being in their line of sight. He hates being treated like a toy and having that person making up their own ideas of him…so, uhm, he’s sorry.

Yume honestly never wanted to cause all this trouble for you.

Yume was hoping we could get along…he wanted to talk to you but he was too embarrassed and nervous to know how to.

You looked like you were in a bad mood today, Midori-sama. The vibe you were giving off made it seem like you didn’t want anyone to approach you.

Midori: (Oh…)

(So we both had the same impression of each other…I should’ve known that he’d be feeling nervous about his first professional job.)

(Even I was feeling anxious when I first arrived on set.)

(I know how it feels to be in his position…that’s exactly why they asked me to be his mentor today.)

(I’m terrible, aren’t I? I’m never going to make any growth.)

Hanamura-san.

Fuyume: Yes?

Midori: Let’s go and apologise to the staff once you’ve had a drink and taken a moment to calm down.

Fuyume: Yume doesn’t want to apologise.

Midori: Oh…okay, I understand. If you want, I can go and ask for the staff member that doesn't like you to be removed.

It’s within our right to request things like that. You can even step away from jobs you don’t want to do too.

Fuyume: …

Midori: That being said, if we don’t do our jobs properly, we’ll cause problems for even those that don’t have anything against you, Hanamura-san.

We'll end up being hated and labelled as 'someone I don't want to work with' by the people around us.

Fuyume: Yume hates being hated.

Midori: Then let’s go and give them a proper apology. Once we’ve done that, we can focus on finishing off the job.

It might be late, but I’ll teach you the correct methods to use. Since I’m your senpai, I’ll make sure I put you on the right path.

Admittedly, this’ll be tough for me…I’m not important enough to be bossing people around, and I suck at talking to people too.

Fuyume: Mm…Yume isn’t good at it either. People always seem to get confused when he tries to have a normal conversation with them. It’s weird.

Midori: That was meant to be a normal conversation earlier…? You really do live in a world of your own.

(Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He’s probably going to get mad at me now. Judging by the way he seems to hate being challenged, I’ll bet that he always had his way in the amateur world.)

Fuyume: Fufufu. Thank you, Midori-sama.

Midori: (Huh? He took it surprisingly well? This kid doesn't make any sense to me…)

Fuyume: Yume wants to put his world on display for everyone to see.

He's grateful that you noticed its existence.

You made Yume happy, so Yume must thank you.

Fufufufu, Yume just had a sudden burst of motivation. He’s going to turn over a new leaf and do the very best he can to make sure this job is a success. 

Midori: R-Right…I’m glad you’ve found some motivation.

I’ll do some reflecting of my own and give it my all too.

Let’s work together to finish this job, Hanamura-san.

Fuyume: Stop saying ‘Hanamura-san’, Yume wants you to call him ‘Yume’ instead. It’s been getting on his nerves all day. Yume doesn’t feel like working anymore.

Midori: Whaaat…?

[servantofclio]

Looking back at 2024

I check tumblr quite regularly, but I haven't posted anything much in ages. The end of the year seems like a good time to do a bit of a retrospective on what I have been doing, though!

I wrote only the teeniest amount of fic. When the Veilguard info started coming out in the summer, I reread basically all my DA fic, and tuned up some small things and posted them to AO3, but new words have been few and far between. Perhaps that will change into the next year, we'll see!

I finished Baldur's Gate 3! Like, last week, and yes, I'd been playing it on and off for nearly a year and a half. I should maybe make another post with thoughts about this game, because it's a great game, and I like my character very much, and yet I found certain combat scenarios so absolutely infuriating at certain times that it really slowed down my progress on the game as a whole. I also found it difficult to write much about my character as it felt necessary to see how character arcs resolved before writing anything romance-related.

Lost and I played lots and lots of board games. We probably played Ark Nova more than anything else, but we really kept up playing games on a regular basis much more consistently than any time in the past. It's been nice taking the time to do something together in our precious free time. We also went through our game collection and made a nice tidy spreadsheet listing everything we own, which is... um... kind of a lot. But it is a very tidy and satisfying spreadsheet!

Crafting: I did knitting and sewing intermittently -- I sewed Lost a cozy flannel robe, and made skirts for both of us, and knitted an assortment of socks and shawls and things. I got an inkle loom and tried out tablet weaving, which I really like and want to make more time for (also true of sewing).

Other life highlights of the year: We took a trip with a group of dear friends to a dream location and it was really, really great. We had social time with other delightful friends pretty regularly, and had some short visits with family. I took a research leave in the first half of the year and did a ton of reading toward prepping a new course. I still have a week and a half to pull everything together before actually teaching the course (laughs nervously), but I'm excited about it.

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Three (m/m, cold)

And now, for something completely different.

Well, not completely - it's still a cold fic lol. This one is specifically for @ghostlychill who has asked for more Matt and Mark. This is basically the saga of how they ended up together, and it is certainly out of my wheelhouse because it actually has romance lmao. A pre-warning, this is plot heavy (for me) and a little sneeze light. There are a few Greyson cold sneezes, and Matt is sick for the latter half, but it's more of a romance sickfic than a true snz fic. But I hope you like it if you read it; let me know if you all want more Matt and Mark. They were honestly really fun to write, and I banged this monster of a fic out in just a few hours so the muse was musing.

Ok, done rambling. Enjoy :)

CW: Male, M/M (not sexually explicit, just kissing), colds, contagion, coughing, fevers, light mess. 4.3k words under the cut.

Three

Their first kiss was an accident.

Post-brunch. Pre-holidays. “Grab a beer?” Mark had asked as Matt stuffed his dirty chef coat into his backpack. It had become a bit of a ritual for the two of them to grab a drink after a long shift in the past few weeks; usually it was under cover of darkness, but this brunch had been particularly brutal and Matt was craving not just a beverage, but some commiseration. He shrugged, hoisted his backpack onto a shoulder.

“Sure. You’ve got first round.”

One round had quickly turned to two, then three, and before five pm hit they were drunkenly crashing their pint glasses into each other and talking much louder than the half-full pub required to be heard. Matt drained his fifth beer and looked to Mark, smiling sloppily. “One more?” he asked.

Mark pushed his hair out of his face and leaned his head into one hand, taking the other man in. “If it’ll keep you in my line of sight,” he said, emboldened by booze, “I’ll stay here all night long.”

When the bartender finally kicked them out around eight, the two men were so drunk they had to use one another as walking sticks to get down the block.

“We’re way too drunk to be on the street,” Mark laughed, putting a hand over one eye. “I’m seeing, like… quadruple.”

“That’s wild, ‘cause I can’t see at all,” Matt said, looping his arm through Mark’s. The two of them laughed and stumbled until they hit a bench near well-lit central park and flopped down.

“I can’t remember where I live,” Matt admitted, placing his head on Mark’s shoulder. Their arms had stayed looped. Mark gently placed his head atop Matt’s.

“Me either,” he said. “But… can I tell you a secret?”

Matt looked up. Nodded.

“I don’t want to go home,” Mark said, letting a slow smile spread across his face. Matt felt his cheeks flame; he let a beat pass before he smiled back.

“Me either,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Later, they wouldn’t remember who initiated it. All they would remember was when their lips pressed together, everything else melted away.

***

“Oh! Oh, shit, fuck, sorry guys I didn’t -”

“Chef, shit! Oh, fuckin’ hell -”

Greyson slammed the door to the bathroom shut, leaving Matt and Mark to stare at one another, eyes wide as saucers – the silence between them thick as the cigarette smoke that hung in the air outside that little room.

Finally, Mark broke the silence. “Um… do you think he saw anything?”

Matt couldn’t help it; he barked out a laugh. Mark slapped a hand across the other man’s mouth, making him laugh even harder. He really didn’t know what he’d been thinking following Mark in here in the first place.

Much like the stupid party they were hiding from in the bathroom, their second kiss was clearly a mistake.

The New Year’s Eve party had been Elijah’s idea, much to the surprise of literally everyone at the restaurant.

“What?” Elijah had asked when his announcement during pre-shift had been met with a stunned silence. “I thought you all loved parties!”

The servers and cooks eyed one another in a way they all hoped wasn’t completely obvious, until finally Greyson said what everyone was thinking. “Boss, yeah, everyone loves parties… except you.”

Elijah had scoffed at this. “You guys obviously don’t really know me; I love parties.”

Of course, Elijah didn’t love parties and it ended up moving from his roomy condo to Greyson’s tiny Brooklyn apartment at the last minute. Post-service on New Year’s Eve, Matt helped his boss load extra bottles of champagne, vodka, and tequila into the back of the restaurant’s van all while Greyson grumbled about Elijah.

“Fuckin’ Elijah,” Greyson said for about the fiftieth time that evening. “Why the fuck would he even mention a party if he wasn’t a thousand percent sure he wanted to ho – hh-”

Matt glanced up at his boss, who held an arm midair in anticipation. This was the real reason Greyson, who threw parties at his place at least three times a year, was pissed about having to host the work shindig: he was sick.

“Hh-! HhhITSZZH-ue!” Greyson folded over into his elbow, sniffled, and cleared his throat.

“Bless,” Matt offered, placing the rest of the alcohol into the back of the car. “Chef, I’m sure that everyone will understand if you don’t feel up to having twenty people in your apartment. There’re tons of parties right around here, why don’t you just… call it off?”

Greyson, stubborn as ever, just shook his head. “I said I’d do it. They’re already on their way.”

So Matt loaded into the van with Greyson, and Mark got in Elijah’s car with the GM while the rest of the staff hopped on the subway for the party that no one really wanted to be at. Greyson, who’d been able to keep his illness at bay for most of the shift thanks mostly to the Sudafed he kept slamming, started coming down hard the moment they began their drive to Brooklyn.

“Hh...hhITSZZH-ue! Huh-! ETSZH-ue! Fuck mbe,” Greyson muttered, using his sleeve to wipe under his nose with one hand while he drove through the busy Manhattan streets with the other.

“Um… do you want to pull over so I can drive?” Matt asked, a little more pointed than his boss was used to him being. Greyson shot his sous chef a look.

“Ndo,” he said. “I’ve got it.”

Matt was hardly a germaphobe – working in a kitchen bred that out of you pretty quickly – but he couldn’t help but cringe away with every sneeze and cough that came from his boss’s side of the car. He found himself thinking about Mark; they had plans to hang out in just a few days, plans that both of them had been forced to cancel multiple times already, and Matt could just feel Greyson’s germs making themselves at home inside his body. He really didn’t want to cancel on Mark again; he wasn’t exactly sure what they were, what he wanted them to be, or what Mark thought they were, but whatever it was, he didn’t want to fuck it up. Matt was entirely too good at fucking up a good thing.

“HRRSHH-ue!” Clearly, that one snuck up on him, because that time Greyson barely covered his mouth. Matt shrank into the door and considered pulling his shirt over his nose and mouth in a desperate attempt to keep his boss from infecting him. Greyson glanced over at Matt and coughed out a laugh.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, patting Matt’s leg, “but you’re probably already fucked.”

Eventually, they made it to Greyson’s walk-up and after what felt like an eon, they got everything inside. Elijah immediately recruited Mark to help pour champagne for everyone, and Greyson left his sous to go outside and smoke on the patio – Matt had no choice but to just start drinking.

By the time the cooks and servers made it to Greyson’s apartment, Matt was half in the bag. He floated sloppily from group to group, telling jokes and prompting everyone to take shots with him, all while keeping one eye on Mark at all times. Elijah had been keeping his liege busy; Mark was bartending, putting appetizers in the oven, picking up trash… everything except hanging out with Matt. So when he finally got to take a bathroom break, Matt threw back his tequila soda and, emboldened by liquor, followed behind him.

“Hey, it’s occ-” Mark started to say when the bathroom door opened right on his heels – but he was cut off when Matt swung him around, grabbed his face in both hands, stood on his tiptoes, and pressed his lips firmly on the other man’s.

Mark certainly wasn’t pulling away; in fact, the moment their lips touched, Mark grabbed Matt by the hips and lifted him onto Greyson’s tiny vanity to make the kiss easier on both of them. Matt pulled away for just a moment to look at Mark – his black-framed glasses were askew, his hair was wild from Matt’s hands coursing through it, and his face was flushed with lust. Matt was sure he’d never seen anyone so beautiful.

“What was that for?” Mark asked, his voice low. Matt’s face cracked into a smile.

“I haven’t gotten to spend any time with you tonight,” he said, pushing Mark’s hair away from his face. “And I’m probably gonna have to cancel our plans on Monday.”

Mark’s brows knit together, confused. “Why?” he asked. “Is this, like, a fare-thee-well, this is the last time this will happen kiss situation?”

Matt laughed, shook his head. “No,” he said, cocking his head towards the door, where the party rumbled outside. “I’m, like, 99% sure Greyson infected me with his disgusting illness on the long-ass drive over here. I wouldn’t force you to hang out with me when I’m inevitably sick.” He shrugged. “So I figured I’d sneak some time with you where I could.”

Matt didn’t wait for Mark’s response about his impending doom; he just leaned in again. This time, Mark parted his lips and slid his tongue in to meet Matt’s. Matt allowed a quiet moan to escape his lips, let his hand feel its way down to Mark’s shirt, and began unbuttoning when the door flew open once more.

“Oh!”

Greyson.

***

“Chef, I am not in the mood today.”

“Oh c’mon, if I can’t poke fun at your drunken antics then what’s even the point of living? You make fun of my drunken antics all the time.”

Matt put down his knife and gave his boss a pointed look. “Yeah, maybe for like a day after they go down, but New Year’s was three days ago. Are you planning on ever letting it go?”

Greyson shrugged as he pushed onions into a deli container and snapped the lid shut. “Probably not. I mean, it’s just too good – caught red handed in my bathroom. Like, it couldn’t have happened more perfectly if I wrote it myself.”

Matt rolled his eyes; while Greyson living for his embarrassment was annoying, it was kind of the last thing on his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about Mark – after the bathroom kiss situation went down, he’d slipped out of the party and hadn’t mentioned anything about it to Matt since. Matt assumed he wanted to put it out of his head. Maybe the kiss – both of the kisses – hadn’t felt to Mark like they did to Matt. Maybe Mark was put off by how drunk Matt had been both times. Maybe he just wasn’t into him.

All Matt knew was, he desperately wanted to talk to Mark – but despite working the same hours in the same tiny restaurant, Mark had managed to avoid him like the plague.

Speaking of which.

“HTSHH-uh! Hh! Hh’ITSHH-uh! ETZSH-ue!” Matt turned away from the food to sneeze into his shoulder, then his hand, then finally his elbow. Greyson stepped over and plucked Matt’s knife out of his hand while the younger man was compromised.

“You’ll take someone’s eye out that way,” he chastised, placing the knife on Matt’s cutting board. The sous rolled his eyes, sucked in through his nose, and trudged to the sink to wash his hands.

“I don’t want to hear it from you, Chef. You’re the fucking plague rat of this restaurant,” Matt murmured, pulling a hand down his face. This was the other issue: Matt and Mark were supposed to hang out tomorrow, but just as he predicted, Matt had been gifted the cold Greyson had on New Year’s. If Mark didn’t want to talk to him when he was healthy and just a few steps away, he certainly wouldn’t be traversing the city tomorrow to hang out with Matt when he was fever-addled and snot-ridden.

“Rude,” Greyson said, continuing his prep. “But not entirely untrue. Sorry you’re sick.”

“Whatever,” Matt grumbled, his bad mood amplified by his pounding head. “Can you just drop the bathroom situation?”

Greyson bit his cheek to keep from smiling. “I can certainly try.”

Matt knew that meant ‘no’, but he’d take what he could get. He picked his knife back up to start chopping broccoli, but almost cut himself when Mark slipped into the back kitchen.

“Chef?” he asked, prompting both Greyson and Matt’s heads to shoot up. Matt’s face flamed when Greyson swiveled his head to meet his sous’ eyes with a cheeky grin – he put his head back down, pretending to focus on his work.

“Yes, Mark, how can I assist you?” Greyson asked, wiping his hands on the towel next to his cutting board. Matt felt Mark shoot a quick glance his way; his cheeks burned with the knowledge.

“Elijah is looking for you. Says he has a question about tonight’s ten-top with the prixe fix?”

Greyson rolled his eyes, but abandoned his prep for the moment. “When doesn’t Elijah have a question about a prixe fix?” he asked to no one in particular. “I’ll go talk to him. Thanks.”

The chef exited the back kitchen, leaving a sniffling Matt and a stuck-in-place Mark in his wake. Matt was the first to break the silence – unwillingly.

“Hh-! NTSHH-uh!” The sous attempted to stifle a sneeze into his palm, but only succeeded in making a mess of himself. His face reddened impossibly deeper, and he was forced to put down his knife and head for the sink.

“Bless you,” Mark said as Matt pulled a paper towel from the dispenser and blew his nose. Matt swallowed painfully, washed his hands again, and nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, clearing his throat.

They lapsed into silence once again, neither one looking at the other. “Um,” Mark said, finally, “are you -”

“I have to get this work done,” Matt interrupted, though he couldn’t explain to even himself why he wouldn’t let Mark ask if he was okay. “Have a good shift, okay?”

Mark blinked, taken aback, but nodded. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand and turned to leave the back kitchen without a word. Matt didn’t let himself watch the other man go.

***

It was like watching a train wreck.

“Matt,” Greyson called from his spot at the expo board. “Where are we at on the halibut for 63?”

Mark’s eyes darted behind the line where Matt was doubled over, coughing into the collar of his chef’s coat. The sous chef had started the evening looking very much under the weather and quite a bit worse for the wear, but now, at nine PM he looked like he was ready to keel over right there on the line. Mark bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything.

“Matt!” Greyson called again, and Matt stood, shakily, to place the likely-overcooked halibut onto its plate. He pushed it through the window and gave his boss a pointed look.

“The food has to cook, Chef, you gotta give mbe a minu – uh! ETSZCH-uhh!” Matt collapsed once again into his collar, righted himself quickly, and sucked in through his nose. “A mbinute,” he finished, his voice cracking.

“Halibut doesn’t take twenty minutes to cook, Chef,” Greyson snapped, snatching the plate from the line. “I expect my number-two to be able to keep ticket times under fifty minutes so the fucking restaurant doesn’t shut the fuck down.” Greyson handed three plates to Mark, who took them wordlessly and slunk out of the kitchen.

Mark dropped the food at its respective table, the guilt of not saying anything to Matt slowly eating away at him. He counted the tables left in the restaurant who still needed to eat – definitely more than he was hoping for. He really, really didn’t want to go back to the kitchen.

“Hey, Lij?” Mark said, approaching his boss at the host stand. Elijah was moving reservations from table to table on the iPad, configuring the remainder of the night.

“Hmm?” Elijah murmured, only half paying attention. Mark pursed his lips, weighing whether he should say anything.

Finally, he said, “Do you think you could ask Greyson to kind of… cool it with Matt? I mean, he seems like he’s really sick and Chef is like… totally berating him.”

Elijah raised an eyebrow and looked away from the iPad to meet Mark’s eyes. “You want me to ask Greyson to stop yelling at Matt… now? In the middle of service, when there are tables who have thirty-plus-minute ticket times?” The GM huffed out a laugh. “Man, Greyson told me about the whole bathroom situation, but I figured you guys were just drunk. I didn’t realize you were down so badly for him.”

Mark’s face flushed crimson; Elijah smirked at him, and turned back to the iPad. “Matt’s a big boy, Mark,” he said, not looking the floor manager in the eye. “He can handle Greyson yelling at him.”

“Yeah,” Mark muttered. “Okay.”

Mark trudged back to the kitchen to grab more food, the sound of Greyson’s frustrated voice hitting him before he could even step foot through the swinging doors.

“Order in! Two filets, two tofu, one halibut! Matt, I swear to God I had better see table twenty-six up in the next three seconds, Chef, it’s already at twenty-two minutes.”

“Yes, Chef,” Matt mumbled, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.

“I can’t hear you, Chef,” Greyson yelled back, tweezering herbs onto a dish.

“Yes, Che – ITZSHH-ue! HRETSZH-ue!” Matt ducked down below the line to sneeze, the sound painful and desperate. Mark could hear the crackling cough he was trying to hide all the way from where he was standing; his heart sunk. He wished like hell that he’d had the balls to say something – anything – to the other man this week. He wished he wasn’t such a fucking baby when it came to his feelings, or relationships, or standing up for himself or anyone else. He wished he was anyone but himself.

“Bless – Chef, do you need to switch spots with me?” Greyson asked, his voice finally softening at the sound of Matt’s coughing.

“Ndo, Chef,” Matt managed, standing. “I’mb fine. Twenty-six, up,” he said, slamming the plates onto the pass.

“Great,” Greyson mumbled. He garnished the plates and shoved them into Mark’s hands. “Twenty-six, go,” he said, not looking at the floor manager.

Mark nodded; he took the plates out into the dining room and dropped them; as he did, he made a promise to himself and, silently, to Matt: maybe there was nothing he could do or say during the shift to make Matt feel any better, but he would figure out a way, post-shift, to do something to help him. He would grow some balls, if it killed him.

While Elijah was still busy looking at reservations, Mark slipped into the bathroom and pulled out his phone. He put in a grocery order, to be picked up at ten the next morning. He typed out a text to Matt, scheduled it to send at the same time he would be picking up the groceries so he wouldn’t be able to wimp out and unschedule it. Then he put his phone back in his pocket, opened the door, and went to finish the shift.

***

His phone was ringing.

Matt groaned as he came to; he was covered in sweat, he could barely breathe, and he was stiff as a fucking board from passing out on his couch. Who the fuck was calling him? It was his one day off, could Greyson not leave him alone for one fucking day?

He grabbed the phone off the coffee table, ready to throw it across the room, when he realized the name on the screen wasn’t his boss’s.

Call from: Mark, Work.

Matt’s stomach jumped into his throat. The phone continued to ring while he squinted at the clock in the corner: ten twenty-three AM. Had he and Mark spoken last night? He could barely remember a fucking thing about the previous night, other than being utterly and completely miserable. The two of them definitely hadn’t spoken; he remembered giving Mark the cold should before service started, remembered the pitying look Mark had given him as Greyson screamed the restaurant down, remembered flying out the door the moment Greyson told him to go. They hadn’t spoken, their plans were obviously off, so why the hell was Mark calling him?

The call went to voicemail. Matt coughed into his elbow, a chesty sound that he really didn’t like, especially since he didn’t have health insurance. After a minute or so, another notification popped up: one new voicemail.

Curiosity got the better of him. Matt opened his phone and hit ‘play’.

“Hey, Matt, it’s um… it’s me. I know this is super weird, like I don’t know why I did it at this point weird, but, uh… I’m outside your building. I texted you, but now I’m realizing you’re probably asleep. Uh… I mean, if you get this I’m gonna, like, hang out out here for a bit. I brought soup! I can’t cook, so it’s from a deli, but I figured you might need something to eat, and you probably don’t want to cook since you’re sick. Your place is nice, by the way. Um. Okay. If you get this, cool, if not, I’ll uh… I’ll leave in a little bit. Okay. Bye.”

Matt felt his heart near-explode in his chest. Mark was sitting outside his building, with soup? What was this, a Hallmark movie?

He did it without thinking; he pulled up his text conversation with Mark and typed, hey, im awake. sorry I missed ur call. ill buzz you up :)

Mark was up the stairs in record time. He knocked, and Matt stood from the couch, forgetting until he was vertical that he was still in his work clothes from last night. Gross, he thought, but it was too late to change now – he took a few shaky steps towards the door and opened up.

Matt barely recognized Mark at first; he was only used to his floor-manager getup, button-downs and ties and slacks, his hair gelled back. Today, Mark wore jeans and a jean jacket over a Brighton University hoodie – did he go to college in England? - with black high-top converse. His curly hair was in his face, and he was carrying two full grocery bags. Mark smiled.

“Hey,” he said. “Can I come in?”

“Yea -” Matt attempted, not realizing his voice was completely shot until he tried to use it for the first time that day. His hand flew to his throat and he attempted to clear it, to no avail. “Shit, sorry, apparently I can’t talk,” he whispered.

Mark pursed his lips, obviously concerned. “That’s okay,” he said, stepping through the front door. He placed the bags on Matt’s tiny kitchen table and began pulling out supplies. “I come bearing gifts.”

There was the soup, like he said, but Mark also pulled out dayquil, and sudafed, and cough drops. He pulled out a box of tissues, bags of tea, and cough syrup – quite literally the whole nine yards. “I didn’t know what you had, so I figured I’d grab one of everything,” Mark said, embarrassed.

Matt didn’t know what to say. “Mark, I – hh! hhIGTSZH-uhh! Hh’TSHH-ue!” Matt crumpled into his elbow to sneeze, hard, and lapsed into a fit of coughing. Mark pushed the cold supplies towards him, smiling a bit.

“Bless you,” he said. “I’m sorry you’re so sick.”

Matt took a moment to blow his nose and uncapped the cough syrup. He chugged a bit, righted himself, and shrugged, embarrassed. “Not your fault,” he croaked. “Thank you for bringing all this.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Mark said, not looking into Matt’s eyes. “I’m really sorry for ignoring you the past few days, Matt. I… I mean, I don’t want to scare you off or anything but I haven’t really had, like, a real relationship in a long time. Like, a really long time.” He looked up, caught Matt’s red, watery eyes in his, and gave up the whole truth. “Like… ever.”

Matt nodded slowly, processing. “So… you don’t hate me?” he asked, the fever tossing to the wayside any filter he might have once had. Mark’s face colored; he laughed.

“I don’t hate you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Like… I really don’t hate you. I – I mean, I really, really like you, Matt.”

It was Matt’s turn to flush bright red. “Even like this?” he asked, coughing into his fist. Mark smiled.

“Even like that.”

The two of them stood there, smiling twin goofy smiles, for a moment before Matt ducked once again into his elbow.

“Hh – ITSZHH-ue! Guhh.” He wiped his nose on the back of his hand, not caring how disgusting he looked. “I, umb, I really like you too, Mbark,” he said, coughing again. “Like… probably mbore than is normal or rational.”

This time, it was Matt who was caught off-guard. Before he knew what was happening, Mark had his hands on either side of Matt’s hot face and was tipping Matt’s head up to meet his. This one was different; while the first two kisses felt hungry, dangerous, this one was soft; an invitation. A promise of a future yet to come.

Matt pulled away to catch his breath. “You’ll get sick,” he muttered, eyes closed and hands around Mark’s thin frame. Mark tipped Matt’s head up, pushed his sweaty, dishwater blond hair out of his eyes, and pressed their foreheads together.

“I know,” he said, and pressed his lips against Matt’s once again.

Their third kiss – well. That was the one they would tell everyone at the wedding about.

[expresso-bean]

The Man Out of Time [A ShadAmy and Silver Story]: Chapter 27

Pairing: Shadow the Hedgehog x Amy Rose

Description: It has been seven years of peace following the grueling war with Eggman and his army. Though it took time to rebuild what they have lost, life for the Freedom Fighters could not be better. Whether it's finding love or trying to run from their past, celebrating post-war times has been different for each them.

All is well until a silver hedgehog comes knocking on Amy Rose's door to deliver the tragic news about an incredible force that seems to be the cause of the future's destruction.

Will anyone believe the mysterious hedgehog's cry for help? Or will he be left to fight for his future alone? Read to find out!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 4.3k

POV: Third Person

Masterlist ❀ Ch.1 ❀ Ch.2 ❀ Ch.3 ❀ Ch.4 ❀ Ch.5 ❀ Ch.6 ❀ Ch.7 ❀ Ch.8 ❀ Ch.9 ❀ Ch.10 ❀ Ch.11 ❀ Ch.12 ❀ Ch.13 ❀ Ch.14 ❀ Ch.15 ❀ Ch.16 ❀ Ch.17 ❀ Ch.18 ❀ Ch.19 ❀ Ch.20 ❀ Ch.21 ❀ Ch.22 ❀ Ch.23 ❀ Ch.24 ❀ Ch.25 ❀ Ch.26

The house was quiet. It had been long since Shadow, Silver, and Amy over Silver's cooking while drinking the fruit-flavored sodas Amy had brought back from her quick trip to the market. Though they talked for a while after their meal, Shadow had convinced her to go and rest while they clean up the kitchen and prep for the big spaghetti lunch he had promised her tomorrow before training. 

He stood in front of her door and quietly cracked it open to see how she was sleeping. 

'She looks so peaceful,' He smiled, softly closing the door. 'The things I do for you.'

Shadow crept downstairs where Silver was waiting for him in the kitchen. On the counter near the stove there was a walnut wood cutting board and a wide-cut knife next to it. When the silver hedgehog spotted him, a smile spread on his face. Shadow nodded to him in acknowledgement.

"So," Silver clapped his hand's together. "what do you know about making spaghetti sauce?"

"There are salt and tomatoes in it."

"Yes, that's true. What else?" Shadow just stared at Silver. There was nothing else for him to say. Silver pursed his lips until they made a 'pop' sound. "So I'll take that as nothing else. Lucky for you, this is actually pretty easy. Since you're a beginner, we'll start with the most basic tomato sauce anyone can make."

Shadow nodded as he sat in front of the counter near the stove. Silver started going around the kitchen. First, he grabbed a pot from inside the oven and quietly placed it on the stove. Then he started rummaging through the fridge. He looked over at Shadow and motioned him to come over. Shadow swiftly walk over to him. He held out his arms and Silver placed a clove of garlic, a branch of basil, and another of parsley.

"If you could just put those on the cutting board that would be great!"

Shadow nodded and placed the on the cutting board as directed. He looked over at Silver how was organizing something in the fridge. He then stepped away from it and closed it. He walked over to the stove and pointed at the bowl next to the stove.

"Usually, we would use fresh tomatoes to make sauce, but we're going to try and fix this, um," Silver smiled nervously while looking at the mess of tomato water and pulp in the bowl on the counter. "base. But don't worry, this is an easy fix!"

"How?"

"It's real simple," Silver reached out and grabbed a can off the counter. He popped open the can of paste and placed it on the counter. "So, for this, we're using some unsalted tomato paste. It's thick right now, but once you mix it in with this, it'll balance everything out. And remember, no more salt. Amy doesn't really care for salty food that much."

"And you know how?"

"I told you, I helped her out with grocery shopping," Silver reiterated. His tone slightly aggravated Shadow. But he knew if this partnership with him was going to work, he had to keep his thoughts to himself. For better, or worse. "This is all we need. Before we turn on the stove, we're going to prepare the ingredients,"

Silver rolled back his shoulders and dusted off his hands. He opened a cupboard and pulled out a pepper shaker, oil, a bag of sugar, a dry herb shaker, and a big and small can with red labels on them. After organizing everything on the counter near the stove, he grabbed the knife by the protective sheath and handed it to Shadow. 

"When cutting with limited supplies, it's best to use a wide-cut knife like this one."

"Okay."

"Your going to want to finely mince the garlic. Here, let me peel it for you first," Silver picked up garlic and moved to the sink on the other side of the kitchen. Shadow took of the knife's  protective sheath and began practicing different cutting motions.

'Seems easy enough.'

"You've done this before, right?" Shadow jumped a bit at Silver's sudden presence next to him. 

"Yes?" Shadow nodded. Silver smiled and placed the naked clove in the middle of the cutting board.

"With the knife, you are going to want to cover the clove with the side of the knife and press down on it. Try not to use all your strength, just enough to mush it," Shadow nodded and turned the knife onto the side and softly pressed down on the clove. He then lightly striked the side of the blade with his other hand. He was relieved that he didn't break anything and even more relieved when he saw that the garlic split perfectly into three even parts. 

"That was perfect. Now just chop at it until it's finely minced," Shadow carefully chopped at the gloved several times, careful not to let the paste of the garlic get ever where. It was a slightly tedious job, but the more the chopped, the easier it got. "In any other case, you would add a touch of salt, not only for added flavor, but to also to keep the garlic from separating while you chop it. But like I said, no more salt."

'I feel like I should be taking notes. I'll just have to write all of this down later.'

"Wow, you're a natural at this!"

'I am aware that my culinary skills are limited, but I could handle a knife pretty well all things considered.'

"That should be enough," Shadow nodded quietly and scooted the minced garlic to the end of the board. "Now just chop up a couple of the leaves of basil and parsley while I get the pot ready. Don't worry I'll tell you what I'm doing so that you know what to do for next time."

"Mhm."

"You want to lightly coat the bottom of the pan with oil. You don't need to much," Silver took the oil and lightly poured it into the pit. He grabbed the handles and tilted until the bottom was evenly coated. "When it comes to cooking, unless your rushing or reheating, you always want to set it to a medium to high heat," He turned on the stove and looked over at Shadow. "That looked perfect! Be sure to set some parsley aside for the end, okay?"

Shadow looked around and spotted a small bowl near the oil. He gathered some of the parsley and set aside. 

"First, we'll add in the paste and the base you made. Let me get you a spoon," As Silver went to fetch a spoon, Shadow looked at the oil in the pot beginning to shimmer with the heat. Already the kitchen was beginning to smell like the beginnings of a delicious meal. 

"Here. Pour in the paste and base and give it a stir," Shadow dumped in the paste followed by the mess of watery tomatoes and salt. He grabbed the wooden spoon that was neatly side on a small plate next to the stove and stirred it in carefully until it became one smooth concoction.

'Wow. You can't even tell it used to be an abomination.'

The more he stirred, the more the sauce began to boil and the aroma of tomatoes began to build up in his nose.

"When you hear it start to sizzle like that, it's your cue to put in the rest of the ingredients. If you let it sit for too long you're more prone to burn yourself with the hot oil."

'That is actually quite helpful.'

"Start with the items on the cutting boards. Just use your hand or knife to slide it into the sauce carefully. Then, you will want to stir it in for just over a minute. Burnt garlic will ruin the flavor of the sauce."

"Right."

As Silver instructed, Shadow slid the basil, parsley, and garlic into the red mixture. He then stirred it all into the red sauce.

"That looks good," Silver commented. Shadow could hear him in the back putting things he had used in the sink. He then walked back next to Shadow and grabbed one of the spice containers. "While you have an eye on that, I'll open these up for you. Trust me, the smell is going to be amazing."

Shadow was too focused on stirring to respond. He wanted it to be perfect.

'I'm doing everything right so far. I can't mess anything up now.'

"Okay, the sauce looks amazing so far! Now, add in these."

Shadow set the spoon on the small plate and looked at the other ingredients before him.

"Any particular order?"

"It doesn't matter, but you can start with the oregano for a bit more structure. You'll only want a pinch since we'll add the rest of the parsley later. Then a couple of churns of pepper. And finally, some sugar to balance everything out and to neutralize the salt."

"Oregano. Pepper. Sugar for balance," Shadow added the corresponding ingredient with each word. A thin layer of the three ingredients set itself on top. Shadow stirred it until it was finely mixed in with the red sauce. 

'It looked better!' Shadow smiled to himself proudly. Something about accomplishing something that looks so delicious from something that not even a starving wild hog would eat fulfilled Shadow. 'I wonder what else I could make?'

"Ah, smells like home."

"Home smells like tomatoes?"

"It smells like my father on birthdays. He would always make spaghetti dinner. Though, he liked to add pepper flakes to his for a bit of a spicier taste."

'Oh. Adding in pepper flakes doesn't sound too bad.'

"Have I stirred it right?"

"Yeah, make sure to reduce the heat."

"Sorry."

"It's okay," Silver quickly looked over Shadow's shoulder and chuckled softly. "And there it is!" Shadow heard Silver rummaging around the cupboards underneath, and he planked down a clear glass cover. "Here's a cover for the pan. After this, we have to wait it out for the next half hour. Just stir it every ten or so minutes to make sure it doesn't stick, and then we can put it in the fridge to chill it until tomorrow."

"Hm." Shadow gave the red sauce a couple of gentle stirs. The aroma was amazing for something so simple. He made sure the heat was on the lowest possible setting before covering the pan. Silver had already started putting things away. 'It's a shame the kitchen won't smell like this forever.'

"Wait," Silver's hum was barely auditable. "Let me take care of the dishes and wipe the counters. Just make sure everything is put away."

Silver nodded. There was a thick silence in the air only broken by the sound of running water. The smell of soap filled the room. He had already missed the rich smell of tomatoes from before.

"S?"

"Hm?" Silver hummed, closing the cupboard gently. Shadow could feel his eyes lingering on him. He didn't break away from scrubbing the cutting board. "What is it?"'

"Thank you, for teaching me this recipe."

"No problem. I've never taught anyone before, I worried I wasn't going to do it right," Silver let out an airy chuckle. Shadow could feel his smile from where he stood. "But I'm glad you could get something out of it!"

Shadow felt the air become less thick. As if a weight was lifted out of the atmosphere. Shadow carefully rinsed the knife off until it was gleaming. He placed it in the dish rack. He walked over to the stove and leaned on the counter next to it. He watched as Silver lifted the lid. The steam rose to his face and his nose twitched from the warmth. He stirred it a bit before closing the lid and putting the spoon down in a little bowl next to the stove.

"I'll check on it again in another ten minutes."

Shadow hummed in response. 

"Did your father teach you this recipe?"

"Actually, this is the first recipe my aunt taught me when I was really young. She loved making pasta and would make me a spaghetti dinner for my birthday. When she passed, to make me feel better, my father would carry out her tradition," Silver check on the heat again before moving to the counter across from Shadow and hoisting himself up. "But to answer your question, yes, he loved cooking. He would tell me stories about how his cooking won over my mother. It was so embarrassing to have to listen to him fawn over like that," A sad chuckle filled in the area. His once-broken gaze found its way to the glass of water in his hand again. "I'd do anything to hear those stories again."

"Your father taught you greatly."

"I truly am sorry."

"Don't be. We both knew the consequences of coming over here."

'I knew it.' He nearly whispered. Though, he wishes he could have been wrong.

There was something Shadow had been hiding. Something that he hadn't even told Rose.

He knows about the Time Stone.

He knows that once he is done using it and he attempts to go back, there will be nothing for him to return to.

The Time Stone often requires a sacrifice for each use. The doctor who created him would sacrifice his work to get Maria back. His sacrifice will be dying without seeing his father for one last time.

"Still. Your sacrifice will not be in vain. What you are doing here is noble. Never lose sight of that."

"I'm not scared of what will happen. A part of me is happy. I will have another chance in a different life. And you guys will have a new future to discover."

"That must be..."

"Difficult? I know. I haven't exactly come to terms with it either."

'I haven't exactly made it easier, have I?'

"I have faced worse enemies in my lifetime than the ones coming. Another battle would be nothing I couldn't handle. But I have come to realize that version of me had nothing to lose. I've built too much now. There are too many people I have to protect," Shadow looked up at Silver, who was staring at them, completely engrossed with Shadow's words. He was at least glad to have Silver's attention. Rarely has he shown the ladder this much vulnerability. "It was unfair of me to pick you as the bearer of my anger towards my own failure to protect what I cared for deeply. I'm sorry for that."

"Oh, um, it's okay, Shadow. I am in the prime of my life right now and I still haven't exactly processed everything completely," Silver held out his hand and Shadow watched as a cyan mist covered the empty cup next to Silver. The cup moved to hover itself over Silver's lap. It then began to slowly flip over itself. "But with everyone's help, I know there is nothing I can't do."

Now that we have that out of the way..."

Shadow readjusted his posture against the counter. Silver, confused, slid his finger over and lightly placed his empty glass in the equally empty sink.

"What is it?"

"I need you to start being more honest with me."

"But-"

"I could care less about who your parents are. But there is something I need to know," Shadow interrupted. "You aren't related to those villains, are you?"

"Why would you even think that?"

"I understand the secrecy behind it because it could be one of us. But the problem is that you look nothing like us or other people we may know."

"What are you suggesting?" Silver questioned with an almost offended tone.

"The girl you mentioned has physic-like abilities, as do you."

"Trust me; it isn't like that. I'm only following my father's orders. He didn't want anyone to know who he was."

'An anonymous being...?'  Shadow pondered.

"Did you have siblings? Or at least a mother?"

"No, no siblings. It was only my dad and I. My uncle and aunt never had any kids," Silver went slight for a moment. Shadow tilted his head, not knowing what was on the other's mind. Then, Silver let a sigh. "I never met my mom. She passed away a little after I was born. My father talks about her a lot, though. He says I have her eyes."

'None of us have golden eyes. Unless it's Espio. But he's a hedgehog and has no signs of being a chameleon. Could it be someone new? What about an old enemy? Someone else?' Shadow shook his head slowly. 'No use in asking him. It's noble that he respects the wishes of someone he will never see again.'

"I'm sorry about your mother."

"It's okay. Can we just move on already?" Silver muttered out.

"Of course. About that plan," Silver's head perked up at the word 'plan'. Shadow cleared his throat slightly before continuing. "It makes little sense that we should train together. Both groups have different tasks to complete and other opponents to face. Would it not make more sense to have those groups dismantle and work with those same people?"

"That's actually a good point. And I'm regretting not thinking about that sooner."

"Do you even know everyone's abilities before planning everything out?"

"I know...some!"

Shadow rolled his eyes and sighed. He knew he had his work cut out for him with that one sentence.

"Each person has a unique fighting style, and through the war, we saw who worked better with one another. Despite many changes personality-wise, there are certain things that we both need to be wary of."

Silver nodded intently. He pressed some buttons on his bracelet before looking back up at Shadow and waving his hand for him to continue. Shadow chose to ignore his strangeness.

"Amy and Knuckles work well together as they have similar fighting styles, but their hot-headedness makes their strong personalities class. I've seen them stop in the middle of battles to dish one out at one another."

"They get along well now, don't they?" Shadow gave Silver a look. A look that he hoped would communicate some of Amy and Knuckles' last interactions. Silver's expression shifted, and he nervously chuckled. "Oh, right. Yeah, you've got a point."

"Knuckles works better with Rouge compared to Amy, but they are also prone to arguments. They need a buffer."

Silver typed out more things into his watch. The tip of his tongue slightly poked out from his mouth as he concentrated. 

"So, Knuckles and Amy are a no-go, but I can put him with Rouge. Got it," He looked up at Shadow with a slight grin on his face. "What about everyone else?"

"Tails is the strategist. A genius if I ever saw one. His mechanical intellect was on par with the Doctor's. Though, he can fumble under pressure if doesn't have a fighter with him."

"Why not put Cream with him? She knows him best."

"Cream is a good scouter since she can fly. She can fight, though, she would rather avoid it if the choice was hers."

"Oh, hm, that's tough," Silver paused to think for a moment.

"Sonic?" He questioned haphazardly.

"That could work, but no. Not only is this serious, but Tails is too compliant with Sonic. Tails will allow Sonic's arrogance to rain freely and push the opponents past their limits to test his own strength."

"I remember. He's full of himself," Silver muttered. He shook his head in almost regret as he said that. "But what do we do with him then?"

"Put him with Rose and I. Unlike the others, I am not afraid to step in to prevent any conflict with him."

Silver nodded in agreement.

"That form of him. It's too dangerous to be let out again."

"What anyone has failed to tell you is that isn't as absent-minded as he appears to be. He is in full control of what he is doing, form or not."

"So you mean, if you hadn't stepped in, he would have...?"

Shadow shook his head. "No. Despite his anger, he would never dare to kill an innocent person. Which brings up his main issue."

"What is it?"

"His stubborn nature allows him to try and spare someone if they show any sliver of humanity. He will try and negotiate with the enemy to try and avoid killing someone. In any other predicament, I would agree with him. But from what you tell me, both of these beings are beyond redemption."

Silver went silent. His demeanor seemed to darken in a way Shadow had not seen before. 

"You can't let him try and reason with them," Silver said in a low voice. He wasn't even looking at Shadow, which uneased the black and red hedgehog.

'This is strange, even for someone like him.'

"You have to promise me you will put an end to this. For the future of you and the people you love."

Shadow nodded, not entertaining the odd seriousness in the other's voice with a response. This seemed to anger Silver. His eyes gleamed with what seemed to be anger.

"Promise me."

'This is important to him,' Shadow bit back a sigh. 'I shouldn't…'

He rarely makes promises. He has only ever promised four people anything.

He promised the Doctor who created him that he would always look after Maria.

He promised Maria that he will always keep kindness in his heart even after she is gone.

He promised Sonic he would destroy him and everything he stands for.

He promised Rose to stay and protect Mobius.

Though it does not count, he even made a promise to him to protect those he cares about. That includes the things those people care about too.

He has only kept two out of the five. Both of which were Maria and Rose respectfully. All things considered, he has a 50/50 track record.

"Shadow?" Silver interrupted the silence. Shadow nodded again.

"I promise," Shadow reassured.

"Good," Silver whispered, relieved. "There is some evil that cannot be reversed."

'Something about that sentiment…'

Shadow tried not to let his real emotions show on his face. But he couldn't help but have this pit in his stomach. Usually, Shadow was more calm in these situations. Nothing phases him. But Silver's words have been spoken to him countless times before, even by the very people whom he calls his friends.

'It doesn't sit right with me.'

"Getting back to the plan," Silver interrupted. Shadow perked up and nod for him to continue. "What I’m getting at is Sonic, Amy, and you will take on Anti…”

"Rouge, Knuckles and yourself will distract Ace long enough for the three of us to neutralize the other. You said you came close to defeating her, correct?" "Yes, but-" Shadow help up a finger to signal for him to stop. Silver shut his mouth almost immediately and hummed a muffled 'yes?'.

"With training, you are only bound to grow stronger through these coming weeks. Not only that, you will have two other people to help you."

"Do you really think I can do this?" Silver's words were laced with uncertainty. He looked at Shadow, who could tell he was desperate for reassurance.

"I don't think you can, I know you can do this," Shadow moved slightly closer to Silver. He noticed the silver hedgehog's wandering eyes. The nerves were practically eating him alive. "Do not doubt you own abilities because of the pressure. You have experienced warriors on your team that rely on you as much as you are willing to rely on them in this moment."

"T-Thank you, Shadow. That's pretty nice of you to say."

"Well," Shadow smirked. "I'm not heartless."

Silver couldn't help but smile softly. Shadow tried to ignore the contagious happiness it brought to him.

"Wait, there still something I don't understand."

"What?"

"Why are there only two teams of three? What about Cream, Tails, and Sally?"

"Sally can be the fighter to complement Tails and Cream. We can still keep the aspect of the plan where Tails drops the enemy at our feet, but until then, the rest of the them will ensure the other’s army does not expand. I doubt they will come empty-handed. We have to set aside people who can care for that," Shadow paused for a second, trying to gather his thoughts. "If you didn't already know, Sally is no ordinary person. She's the heir to a kingdom and a natural-born leader. She will likely request aid from her father, the King, for the use of their royal guard and access to their technologies."

"Oh, wow. Really?"

"Hm." He hummed.

"I-I didn't know that."

"It isn't outward obvious, considering she lingers around us as if she isn't royal-born."

"It's so funny. I thought I finally figured everyone out. But it seems this timeline is full of surprises."

"Did your father not inform you of everyone?"

"Not really. I wasn't even supposed to stay this long. But he wanted me to meet of of you. He wanted me to help all of you. But after I informed all of you of what would happen, I was meant to go back in time and show up for the main fight."

"It feels like I'm living out the childhood I never had. That was his dream. To be surrounded by the people he loved."

"I'm sure he's very happy for you, even if you are not there with him."

"He has company," Silver reassured. Something in his expression changed when he did. Shadow tilted his chin up for a moment, trying to read his expression. "There is something I haven't asked you."

Shadow nodded. Silver seemed to hesitate, looking away to avert his gaze to his hand that was resting on his knees.

"There is still someone who's missing. I meant to bring it up earlier, but with everyone's emotions at an all-time high, I forgot to mention it."

"Missing?"

"Yes," Silver's gaze suddenly landed on Shadow. It was oddly intense for the usually aloof hedgehog. Shadow tilted his head upwards as he tried to read his expression. "There is still one person I haven't met in my time here."

"Who?"

"Where is Espio?"

[lovevalley45]

#fictober24 - day twenty-nine

"How did this happen?"

original fiction (power payback)

word count: 1358

a/n: happy birthday @ginger-canary! i promised i would send emery to therapy for your birthday fic and um. technically he did go to therapy. also idk if i can do spoiler warnings for parts of my own novel i haven't released yet but this takes place post-SftS and thus kinda gives some things away abt emery's fate (but does not ruin the mystery dw).

Emery had never been a fan of doctors’ offices. He’d spent plenty of time having to pop into one Talent clinic or another - for his leg, for the various aches and pains he had when it got too cold or a storm started to roll in. 

Hell, over the past few years, he’d become a frequent flyer at one near the Vons he used to work at after particularly bad fights. They never asked questions, just checked him out and gave him prescriptions for pain meds that he never actually filled. 

The office of the therapist Dr. Coello had sent him to was no different. 

He sat in the waiting room, staring blankly at the sudoku in front of him. Bea had had good intentions when she told him he should see Dr. Lynwood. He was the type of therapist he should’ve seen after his burnout; Dr. Lynwood’s speciality was actually helping Talents overcome their post-burnout trauma. 

But this was post-burnout trauma, just… many years after the fact. 

She had been concerned that he couldn’t talk about what happened. However, therapy didn’t help with a legal agreement that he wasn’t allowed to discuss what had happened to him outside of a Silver Spade-approved story. That was the price he’d paid to have his medical bills paid, including covering the cost of a nice prosthetic to replace the lower half of his leg that doctors had been unable to salvage. Not that it was ready for him to actually use yet.  

“Emery Gori?”

He set down the newspaper he’d picked up and grabbed his crutches. Figuring out how to live with a leg and a half was no biggie. After all, he’d basically been living that way since he was 15. But he hated the looks that the receptionist gave him, cloying pity. 

At least he still had his other scars covered. 

“Dr. Lynwood’s office is down the hall, second door to the left,” she informed him. 

“Thanks.” 

When Emery reached the door, he just knocked, not wanting to accidentally make a fool of himself. Thankfully, the therapist didn’t just call for him to come in, opening the door for him to make his way inside. 

The office was simple, but cozy. Sunlight seeped through the open window, filling the room with natural light. 

“Emery. I’m glad you could make it.” Dr. Lynwood was an older man, maybe in his 60s, if he had to guess. His long, white hair was tied back in a ponytail. But the rest of his vibe was proper - not uptight, but proper. “You can sit over there and we can begin. Have you ever… done something like this before?” 

“Talk therapy? No.” Emery took a seat on the couch, leaning his crutches against the chair. It was always kinda strange to figure out what to do with his legs when he sat now; there was just enough left of his leg that leaving it dangling over the edge of the couch made him feel exposed. But he tried to clear that out of his mind, to get out of his head about it. 

“Okay. We can start slow.” Dr. Lynwood sat down in the armchair facing him. “Let’s just unpack why you’re here. Such as… how did this happen?” 

Emery tried to weigh what he could say and what he couldn’t. He could be sparse enough and not unpack all the details. “I was abducted and kept hostage. And they wanted to make sure I couldn’t run, so-” He swallowed. “My dad shot me in the leg when I was young. And the bullet never got removed, I-” He tugged down the mask he was wearing. “Yeah.” 

Dr. Lynwood didn’t flinch. He remembered the therapist had dealt with many burnt out Talents; this was probably the least gnarly thing he’d seen. Okay, maybe not least gnarly. “So they did something to the bullet in your leg.” 

“Uh-huh. Sorta… pushed it in more. Pushed it in wrong. So then my leg was even more jacked up than before and they amputated it. Just thought it’d be easier.” 

He scribbled something down in the notepad on his lap. Emery wondered what he had found of such note. “How recent was this abduction?” 

“A month ago? Maybe more like a month and a half.” He tucked his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. “My friend’s mom suggested I see someone because I’ve been having night terrors. Like, bad ones. But I don’t remember them.” 

Dr. Lynwood raised an eyebrow. “You don’t remember them?” 

“No. Apparently I just wake up and try to run, but obviously-” Emery gestured to his bad leg. “Someone has to stop me or I just hurt myself.” 

“Well, you were held captive for- how long?” 

“A week. Around that.” 

“Yes. Even what might seem like an inconsequential amount of time, a week, can still leave quite the impression on one’s psyche.” He tapped his pen against his notepad. “So you haven’t been remembering your nightmares?” 

“I’m not sure if they’re nightmares. Or if I’m just…” He tried to figure out the best way to put it into words. “Forgetting. That I’m not there anymore.” 

Dr. Lynwood didn’t look convinced. He jotted something else down and met Emery’s eyes. “Have you had any other incidents like this? In your day-to-day life?”

“Not really. But I’ve been pretty reclusive since I got back from the hospital. Aside from going in for appointments and getting fitted for my prosthetic, this is really my first time leaving the house.” Emery sighed. “Maybe I don’t need to be here.” 

“If you’re having these terrors, it’s probably a sign that there’s something else going on. We don’t have to discuss the details of your abduction if you’re not ready, but do you… remember everything?” 

Emery seriously considered lying. Then if he didn’t talk about something, couldn’t talk about something, he could use that excuse. Instead, he nodded. “Yeah. Every moment.” 

He wrote something else down into his notepad - yeah, he was gonna regret being honest there. “Would it feel better if you did discuss some of those details?” 

He wondered what he could say - what he was allowed to say. But he thought of one. “I wasn’t the only one. I wanted to get out so bad. Even with my leg, I was going to try to make a run for it. They had tied me to the bed and I had been rubbing at my wrists to try and make a file.” Emery’s fingers dropped down the rash-like scars that covered his inner wrists, under the cuff of his hoodie, grounding himself in the tactile sensation. Trying to remember that it was real, but that it was in the past. “But I heard one of them talking to her. And I knew who it was, she’d gone missing before me. And I knew I couldn’t just leave without getting her out too, but I was gonna barely be able to get myself out. And I felt helpless.” 

Dr. Lynwood handed him a tissue. He felt mildly embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed he was crying. The realization that Misty was there, like it wasn’t something he’d had a hunch about but now knew was true, was something he hadn’t told Haley, or anyone else. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d given up there. Misty hadn’t been locked up the same way - no, the methods used to contain her and her Talent had been demeaning in a different way. But he hadn’t known that then. 

Emery, who had made it a point to never give in, whether against his dad or the pain that set in with every step, had given up.

“But you got out. You’re out now,” Dr. Lynwood reminded him. “And she’s out too, yes?” 

Emery nodded. “Yeah. We’re out.” It had been an ordeal, but they were out. 

“And now, you can heal. You can both heal.”

“But healing hurts,” he muttered. 

“You’d certainly know much better than me. But Emery, it’s not something to be scared of.” 

Emery wiped away the last of his tears. “I’m not scared. I think I’m ready.”

[sabaramonds]

long time no post CW for discussions of suicide & homophobia ahead as well as mentions of yunos sex work so in my periphery i see a lot of people saying 1. kazui hates yuno and 2. part of the reason why they seem themselves in one another is because kazui represses his sexuality while yuno is open about hers neither of these are true

you can dislike someone without hating them by virtue of being discomforted by the fact they are similar to you (self recognition through the eyes of the other (derogatory)) and. as for yuno being 'open' about her sexuality. well...i would say shes in tune with her own, but she isnt 'open' about it? unless es makes the details of each trial public among the prisoners (excluding the final judgement, of course) or she told people herself, nobody would know she does sex work. and i dont think shes told people, because why would she? what yuno and kazui recognize in each other isnt necessarily related to sexuality at all, but the masks they both wear and cant take off. neither of them can fully shed the facade they hide behind because to do so would result in a social death. they would, for different yet similar reasons, be stigmatized by their families and society at large. yeah, yuno says she comes from a supportive household (and this could be a lie. she could be lying.) but would that be true if her family found out she does sex work for whatever reason? not likely. and kazui has already said his family 'must find [me] embarrassing' upon being asked if theyre proud of him. if they discovered the truth of his sexuality in the aftermath of his wifes death (suicide?) then that would make sense, though if hinako killed herself then it could be theyre unaware of that truth and are ashamed of him for other reasons im a bit unsure about the current political climate re: suicide in japan (im saying this and you guys do not want to see the tabs i have open rn LOL) and how its viewed by the older generation in particular, but its generally tolerated, shamed, or honorable depending on the context. mental health issues are often ignored, particularly by older generations; to commit suicide to right an apparent wrong or repent (one form of which you all might be familiar with is seppuku) is looked at as a moral responsibility in some cases. so um. basically part of what im saying is that if hinako killed herself to escape the social fallout of not only potential divorce but also from having had a gay husband, she would be looked at with pity and empathy while kazui would be, of course, derided and considered a social pariah - if that is what happened and if it came to light. and, well, what do people think would happen if yuno, 18 years old, not even culturally an adult (until 2022, just last year, 20 was not only the traditional age of being considered an adult in japan but also legally - it was only last year that they made it legal to vote and sign up for loans and their own credit stuff without their parents backing them) and shes doing sex work. if it became public knowledge, her family would be devastated. she could get disowned, she could lose her social standing among friends, among other probable issues that could arise so what kazui and yuno see in one another isnt really related to sexuality at all. yuno looks at kazui and sees a man who has spent his whole lifetime hiding himself from not only the world but from his own self and she doesnt want that for herself; kazui looks at her and sees a girl who is hiding her honest self from everyone and in that he sees himself, which isnt helped by the fact she has subtly implied shes well aware of what it is he hides from the world like recognizes like etc. anyway thats all. double in is in like 2 weeks and i wont survive it

[shady-lemur]

Stargirl ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Thank you guys for the support on the last part!! Hopefully I can figure out a schedule of posting soon lmao, happy pride month!!

Ellie x reader

Part 1, Part 2!!, part 3

Also tell me why it took literally over 10 minutes for me to figure out the link thing omfg why am I old

After the encounter with your ex, Ellie, you try your best to avoid anything to do with her. But with your luck...

You hum along to the song playing through your speaker as you scroll instagram. You've basically put yourself in house arrest other than going to work ever since seeing Ellie. You couldn't trust yourself not to get into a situation where you needed saving again.

Your breath hitches when you see Dina's post. It's her and Ellie sitting on Ellie's couch with cards against humanity spread out on her coffee table. JJ, Dina's son, is sleeping in Ellie's arm. You study the way Ellie's eyes squint as she smiles at the camera. The caption says, "mommy material"

"Fucking mommy material? She isn't even girlfriend material." (I love salty y/n) you grumble and like the picture before turning your phone off. Maybe it's time to finally go out again.. You didn't have work tomorrow..

About a half an hour later, your looking at your ass in the mirror. Making sure that your black dress covers enough but not too much, maybe you'll even meet someone tonight. You've decided on going to a new bar tonight, their website says they have musicians that come in on Fridays so it'll be a chill place to relax.

You pick up your bag and lace your new converse before leaving your apartment.

Your sitting on one of the leather couches that face the stage drinking a (drink of choice) when you hear a familiar voice saying hi to the bartender. You turn you head around and see the one and only Dina!! She must of felt your eyes on her because she turn her head and her eyes immediately lit up. "Y/n!!! Baby!"

You smile as she runs over and sits next to you, giving you a side hug. "I haven't seen you in fucking forever! How are you?"

After you and Ellie broke up, you stopped hanging out with a lot of your friends too. It was too awkward for you. But they never stopped caring about you, it was hard for you to come to terms with that.

"I'm okay! I've just been working a lot recently.. I haven't had a chance to check this place out yet." Dina nods and rests her head on your shoulder. "It's really nice here. I come here every Friday to see-" she stops mid sentence and slowly turns her head up to look at you with wide eyes. You hear someone else on the stage setting up but you keep your eyes on Dina's thinking face.

You tilt your head as she puts her hand over her mouth, "wait.. do you know that-"

She's cut off by another familiar sound. The song Ellie wrote for you on your one year anniversary, you guys stayed up all night writing lyrics for it. You whip your head back to the stage and your face drops, "oh my fucking god."

Dina starts to laugh uncomfortably st the situation, "um- we can leave and I can take you to another really good place, they have burgers! Ellie will understand if I leave-"

You can barely hear what Dina's saying. It's just you and Ellie now. The song you've heard so many times and Ellie's soft voice coming through the speakers, you might even be singing the song quietly too. She opens her eyes and immediately meets yours. You hear her voice falter but she keeps eye contact as she sings.

Ellie goes back stage after a few more songs and you are finally snapped back into reality. In reality, you're sobbing. Dina's rubbing your back comfortingly and is holding your head as you lean it against her shoulder.

You look up at her and take a deep breath, "I should get out of here- I'm sorry Dina. It was nice seeing you." She let's you go but holds your wrist so you turn back to her. She sighs, "let's not be strangers anymore, mkay? I want you to meet JJ." You smile sadly at her and nod, "yeah, um.. text me?"

She smiles and let's you go as you try to RACE OUTTA THERE!! YOU GOTTA GO BEFORE ELLIE COMES OUT!!

You're out the door and halfway to your car before you hear your name being called. Fuck. "Y/n! Can we talk please, I hate the way I reacted-"

You turn around, giving Ellie a view of your tear stained face. "What the fuck are you doing singing that fucking song?" Ellie furrows her brows, "what the fuck do you mean?"

"That's our song Ellie. Why are you still playing it?" You see Ellie scoff a little before taking a deep breath. "Can we talk? I can explain things better than we aren't standing in the middle of the fucking sidewalk." She kicks a rock.

You have to think very hard about this. It'll be embarrassing if you start to fight in a restaurant or park, going to each other's apartments is too intimate, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss talking to Ellie (even if she doesn't know that ha..ha.ha..).

"Okay."

"Okay?!"

You sigh, "We'll meet at the river. tomorrow at 6?"

She smiles and almost chuckles a little bit, "yeah that's great.."

What the hell did you get yourself into?

You and Ellie had a special spot near the river since your first date. It was a rundown, abandoned shed type thing that you made your own. Ellie added a loveseat and a coffee table, you added battery powered fairy lights and some tapestries.

Ellie's already sitting on the loveseat when you get there. Her hair is pull up into that half up half down style that she always does, you can see her white tank top under her brown flannel, her sleeves are rolled up to show off her tattoo, and she's MAN SPREADING. She definitely knew what she was doing.

"Hi." You say, awkwardly sitting as far away from her as you can and putting down the cut up fruit your brought as a peace offering. She smiles and wipes her hands of her pants, "hey.."

You notice the two drinks on the coffee table, she grabs one and hands it to you, "this still your favorite?" You nod and smile slightly at her.

After a few seconds of silence she speaks, "I started therapy about a month ago. I'm going once a week." You look at her and smile, "that's great Ellie. I'm happy for you."

She nods and looks down at her hands, "um, I'm sorry about what I said. It isn't true, I just let my frustration speak for me. And I'm sorry for literally making your life a living hell for the last year we were together. I had a lot of shit I needed to deal with and you didn't deserve that."

The truth is, you'd forgiven her a long time ago. All you wanted for her was happiness and seeing her apologizing is proof that she is getting better.

You take a sip of your drink and meet her eyes, "thank you for apologizing. That means a lot. I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions when you literally picked me up off the side of the road and let me sleep in your bed."

"Truce?"

".. Truce."

She smiles at you and leans back on the couch. "Soo, what've you been up too?"

You shrug, "nothing really.. I got hired full-time by the high school. I've been teaching a bunch of 10th graders literature and getting piss drunk."

Ellie's eyes light up, "seriously?? Y/n that's fucking amazing!! Not the getting piss drunk part but you've been waiting so long for an opening." You laugh and nod, "it's fun, the kids really like me."

In all seriousness the excitement on Ellie's face makes you want to grab her and kiss her. Buuut, you know you shouldn't...

"What about you?"

"I got promoted at work, I got a really good raise. Joel wants me to start learning how to run the place so he can retire soon." You grin at her, "ooh, little Ellie's gonna run a whole auto shop by herself" you wiggle your eyebrows and she playfully hits your arm.

"Shut up!!" Her cheeks are tinted red as you laugh. "And what if I don't?"

Ellie pauses and looks at you, you watch as her eyes travel down your lips but quickly make their way back up. "I'll give you discounts on repairs." You're lips are ZIPPED because that shit is expensive.

Ellie snorts and gets a grape from your container. You both just sit in silence for a little bit as you watch her. You're both studying each other's faces, thinking of all the times your lips have connected and your hands have touched her cheeks.

You take another sip of your drink and spill it all over your white long sleeve shirt. "Fuck!"

Ellie grabs the drink and sets it back down, looking around for some way to dry your shirt. "Um, fuck we don't have any napkins here"

You shake your head, "it's fine, it'll just air dry, this shirt was like 5 dollars anyway." Ellie furrows her eyebrows and starts to take off her flannel, "it's too cold, you can change into this." She hands it to you and turns around to give you privacy.

"Are you sure? You're gonna be cold just in a tank top."

Ellie shakes her head, "don't worry about me, I want you to be warm."

About an hour and a half later you're sleeping. Your head in Ellie's lap so comfortably as she traces circles on your arm. She huffs and looks at the time,

8:37 pm

Ellie didn't want to wake you but she also was freezing her ass off as it get colder. She carefully gets up, picks you up bridal style, and carries you to her car. You'd taken an uber here so you didn't have to worry about your car being left here.

She sets you down in the passenger seat and you slowly open your eyes, "what're you doing?"

Ellie smiles and buckles your seat belt, "I'm gonna take you home, I don't want you taking an Uber when your this tired. Can I have your apartment building?"

You blink a few times before smiling and nodding, "thank you els. My building is the one by Nico's bar." She nods and closes your door before getting in her side and starting the car.

Even though she kept herself calm, Ellie was over the moon. You called her els. A nickname she hadn't been called ever since you broke up.

Ellie didn't care if she was your girlfriend or not. All she cared about was getting you back into her life, I think she succeeded?

You turn in your seat and look at her, "can we be friends?"

She glaces at you and smiles, "fuck yeah."

Not for long HaHaHaHa... 😈

Waaaa I hope this is good... I feel like the ending was a little bit rushed!! There will be a part 3, hopefully they kiss! I wnat to see them kiss!!

I'm getting surgery tomorrow so hopefully it doesn't mess up the writing of part 3 too much!

I love you all so much, please ask if you want to be on the taglist for the next part and feel free to give me suggestions and shit. (^з^)-☆Chu!!

Taglist <3

@gold-dustwomxn @catostrophiclesbian @ellieswifee @unstablefemme

ily girlies

[sirins-cove]

Chapter 7 part 2 thoughts

𝕾𝖕𝖔𝖎𝖑𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖊𝖜 𝖙𝖜𝖘𝖙 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙

𝖇𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖐𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓

Consider me shook y’all, this is not what I wanted my first post on sirens cove to be but chapter 7 has grabbed me by the throat. I’ll be breaking down my thoughts into

Overall thoughts

theories

Malleus 

and what's next to come

𝕺𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑𝖑 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖘

This chapter made me cry and fear for the characters. I love that we finally got some lore about the fae, knowing malleus is still considered a child in the eyes of fae cause he becomes a adult when he turns a thousand. Another thing is we finally got Lilia actual age, he is 700 years old and he explains that he’s kind of fae live to 1000 but because of his reckless past he now dying earlier.

Seeing Silver yell and cry was shocking to say, although my favorite character I never expected him to show such a outburst since he never did that in any of the stories he showed up in. It hurt hearing him blame himself for what is happening to Lilia and that he couldn’t do more to help.

I love the Sebek character development and Lilia getting on his ass about not liking humans, basically he told Sebek to cool it and asked the first years to look after him once he [Lilia] leaves the school.

𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘

I know the time loop theory is huge in the twst community, but I don’t believe its going to happen. My theory is that we are stuck in a endless dream where we get everything we want, since Malleus does tell us “we well all be heroes of the fairytale” at the end of the chapter. So I think we are all stuck in our own separate dreams basically being “rebirthed” into a new world.

But I do agree with the theory of Idia and Leona “saving” the day. Idia wasn’t in diasomnia when the cruse was casted and as far as I know the curse only made people in the dorm fall asleep and everyone else on sage island. Note every dorm is its own mini world and since Idia was in his dorm when the curse was casted it didn’t effect him. 

Now onto Leona as stated Leona probably knows when he is dreaming (this was pointed out in the English version of chapter 6) So if anything Leona probably will figure out that he is dreaming and try to find a way out of it. It also helps the Leona best subjects is ancient magic/curses and it was never told if the curse was Malleus’s UM, so that's another plot point.

𝕸𝖆𝖑𝖑𝖊𝖚𝖘

There is not enough words in this world to describe what my thoughts on this man is but I will try my best. Malleus overblot design has to be one of my favorites he legit looks like the mistress of evil herself and I am living for it.

But I don’t think he fully overblotted since his voice sounded normal and the phantom wasn’t speaking through him, he also seems fully aware that he overblotted and doesn’t really care. He just wants everyone to be happy and safe (the yandere vibes I swear)

I think what makes me laugh about all of this that he got this idea from the fucking Tamagotchi, since every thirty days the pet files away leaving a egg for Malleus to look after and raise and the cycle repeats which gives Malleus the idea of “rebirth” tied in with the fact Silver was crying to him about how worthless he felt.

I am I saying Malleus feels reasonable for other peoples happiness, most likely that's one thing he feels but also that he doesn’t want to be lonely again cause remember he had such a lonely childhood. Although I didn’t think he would overblot 30 chapters into chapter 7 you know.

Side note: I fucking love his humming of a twisted version of “once upon a dream” at the end of the chapter. Its creepy and gives the vibes that we might not be able to defeat him alone, overall it hits all the right spots.

𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙'𝖘 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖔 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊

Its all up in the air about what next to come, but whatever it is I am excited and scared for whatever it is.

I hope you enjoyed my unedited ramble of my thoughts and theories of this chapter, after this the silver character analysis may come out but I might post bone it until chapter 7 is done. So most likely you’ll see me analyzing Leona Kingscholar and his possible depression. I hope you all have a amazing day/night and I’ll see you in the near future ^^

[olivereactsaboutgarbage]

Higurashi When They Cry - Watanagashi Chapter 10

Time for the fifth of my four remaining daily posts this year!

Keiichi's telephone adventures will continue in... Phone Call 02: Toddler 02

Just kidding, no they won't. Toddlers have bedtimes.

Keiichi's telephone adventures will continue in... Phone Call 02.50: Rena

Rena lets Keiichi know that Toddler 02 lives on the religious equivalent of shitty company housing.

Keiichi lets Rena know that Toddler 02 is totally gonna die.

Rena lets Keiichi know that Toddler 01 and Toddler 02 are roommates, and also that they're totally gonna die.

Keiichi remembers Mion exists and gets scared. He decides to disobey Rena to make life easier and better.

Rena lets Keiichi know that his disobedient decisions were stupid and bad.

Rena is the Ultimate Joke Understander.

Mion asks Keiichi for an explanation, so he pretends to have psychic powers.

Rena doesn't see Bike 01 or Bike 02.

The depressing house is hard to enter, so Rena leaves to check the depression house instead.

Ough... a HEADLESS GIANT... that's scary... Keiichi'd better RUN!!!

Mion becomes the sky and starts talking about Toddler 01's tragic backstory. Keiichi doesn't think it's very cool.

Rena brings reinforcements, so Keiichi notices that everything which just happened didn't just happen and gets thrown for a loop.

Rena doesn't see Toddler 01 or Toddler 02.

Mion decides to use leadership skills to remedy this.

Keiichi decides to look for clues. Keiichi decides to chastise Rena for looking for clues.

Mion uses her leadership skills to tell a bunch of people to go to locations, so Keiichi decides to go away too in order to fake being productive.

Rena turns out to also be in the same pointless location as him. She tells him not to blame himself, but he's able to cleverly tell that that's an accusation. She also tells him that they should all have bedtimes, since this is a Toddler scenario.

Keiichi silently decides Rena will die next. Rena who can read the blue text says that's definitely wrong.

Everyone regroups and Mion admonishes Keiichi for going away pointlessly.

DAMN lol

Mion offers Ooishi the food he wanted but he says he doesn't want it. What a cool guy.

Ooishi says that since his tax money funds his own activities, the government is basically helping him with his sexual fetishes.

Keiichi doesn't want a truck ride home from the police, but Rena accepts on his behalf. Rena!!! You traitor!!! Not riding in automobiles is awesome. Now Keiichi has to ride in one instead, thanks to your actions. I trusted you to look out for him, Rena. Shame on you.

Keiichi sleeps through the part where Rena talks about her address. What a shame for all the address lorehunters. When he wakes up, Ooishi is no longer trucking but is instead, um. Well anyway.

Ooishi tells Keiichi all sorts of stuff, mostly from Side Story Land. Then he says that the next victim will be Mion, not Shion or Rena or Keiichi or whatever dumb guess Keiichi had. Obviously, Ooishi's guess is going to be way more true.

That's kind of a weird time to give someone coffee man.

Meanwhile, in Side Story Land...

Mion's parents are the black sheep of the family. Her grandmother is being stalked by cops. She has another relative who's allegedly cool as hell, but there's no way of knowing for sure because he's shrouded in complete darkness. ...Actually, he's really annoying, so I bet he's secretly not cool as hell.

[our-reality]

python 10, 11, 12

10. do they have any regrets?

i don't know. does he 🙂

AGH THIS QUESTION HURT ME SO MUCH . it's. hard to really say whether or not it regrets leaving skylight. for sure he regrets not taking swift with him to earth, even if sky definitely wouldn't have been as enthusiastic about it as he was, because him abandoning her caused so many problems for them that he should have seen coming before it left. he just. so wishes it could've saved them all the trouble and heartache sky went through

but like. what if she just refused to go. even if he offered to take sky with him. what if he had to choose. is it worth making rest of his life hell just to spare her from that? is it selfish to not want that? and. yeah it struggles with this point a lot. and i must stress how throroughly python does not miss being a god and how much it loves being a human. how much he's learned from others about himself and the world that it would've never learned if he'd stayed as a god. but all of that is at the cost of his best friend's health and the problem just. eats away at it. and it takes him more than a while to fully grapple with the fact that he just. couldn't've won no matter what it did.

of course it gets better when the plot kicks off and he actually has a chance to reconcile with swift, but it also kinda just. puts into perspective just how much he ruined sky by doing what it did. and it sucks ass for him. and he understands why both it and swift couldn't have been humans but how was it supposed to choose? the only reason he even chose to go through with becoming human was because it and swift had an argument over the subject and it made a hasty decision. without that, it's hard to say whether or not it would've ever made the hard decision, just letting it consume him over his years, like everything else has.

and. you know. i could look at all of that and go "yeah that's enough torment for one post" but what if i made it worse. what if i talk about whether or not he regrets the murders. what then

uh. yeah idk if i've mentioned this before but vysel is not. the only person it's killed. vysel was the first person, yes (and he was also the last that's crazy it's like poetry it rhymes or wtv), but that whole Ordeal kinda starts it on a track record of um. murder! basically anyone he didn't like got an axe to their face. and like. he does regret that because it basically had to relearn all of its morals after that and it caused him sooooooo many issues forever.

and it puts a lot of the blame on the vysel incident for this because. well. not only was it the first ever time he intentionally killed someone, but it actually did do exactly what he wanted it to do. without going into too many details by the time the vysel shit happened it kinda felt wildly out of control of his life with how often he was forced to move becase it made too many enemies in one area, or because he was worried its old parents would find him, or anything like that. so that was basically its wait of saying "fuck it this is MY life and i'm not gonna let you ruin my life". and then after that he kinda got the idea that like "oh i don't feel in control of my life? just fucking kill people!!" and. it caused him to do some fucky wucky things to say the least

i could say even more but i will actually die if i write about this anymore so i'll shelve this topic for another post but uh tl;dr girls when they have to make a decision with seemingly no right answer that will deeply affect them for the rest of their lives ❤❤❤❤❤

11. do they have any addictions?

he has a smoking addiction and has had one for the past. 300ish years? his lungs are basically coal dust at this point. he coughs up ash at regular intervals and everyone just sort of rolls with it. at one point ruby's like. hey python do you think you should see someone about your lungs. and he's like if a doctor looked at me they'd have a stroke and die on the spot. and she's like ???? okay. he has no intention of stopping and has no motivation to cuz it can't die by human means and it smells like cigarette smoke literally all the time i hate him

12. do they have any sense of style? regardless of the answer do they believe they have a sense of style?

i mean. he literally wears the exact same thing every damn day. and it's not like the other human characters where i draw them with the same outfit all the time but in universe they wear different shit every day. nah he wears the exact same ratty ass coat and fucked up . shirt that's basically a crop top at this point and shredded to hell and back pants and shoes with soles that flap whenever it takes a step. and it just lives like that. it's kinda hard to get him new clothes too because literally everything is too small on it. he's an actual fucking beanpole

so because it hasn't had new clothes for so long he's just like yeah idk how to dress but i don't care so it's okay 😁 so if he was put in front of a bunch of clothes i think it just. wouldn't know what to do at first . but after a while he starts leaning more and more into it and suddenly it has like 27 well put together outfits and he's like. damn okay . so yeah i think he'd really like fashion and have a good sense of style but it just. doesn't have the self confidence for it <///3 sad!

[watchmegetobsessed]

GOLDEN TICKET

A/N: a little something to set off this year's halloween🎃 though i plan to post another fic too tomorrow!

WORD COUNT: 1.3k

SUMMARY: You change your mind about your halloween costume last minute because you fear Harry might find it too revealing, but he thinks otherwise.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

With a longing sigh you take one last look of the costume you intended to wear tonight before showing it into your closet and changing your mind for good. Your original costume was awesome and you knew you’d have gotten tons of compliments as a sexy Willy Wonka, but you might have one a little overboard with the sexy part. You found the perfect red velvet coat in a thrift store in the summer and you knew you had to buy it for Halloween and later you opted for a very tiny black dress underneath. Very. Tiny. It shows a great amount of cleavage and your butt is barely covered too, but you thought the coat would cover everything necessary. You would have paired it all with a pair of thigh high boots and you ordered a wig, the hat and the iconic pair of glasses too to top it all off.

But things have changed since the summer, you were single back then, ready to make jaws drop at the Halloween frat party, but September came with an unexpected turn.

You started dating Harry Styles. The most wanted man on campus.

You’re still unsure how you ended up scoring the guy every girl drools after in school, but he is yours, you’re happier than ever and you don’t want to mess it up with anything. Like dressing too slutty for a party and causing a scene when guys catcall you for wearing such a tiny dress. Harry hasn’t given you any reason to think he would flip, but you just don’t want to risk it. Fratboys tend to be a tad bit too territorial when it comes to girlfriends, you’ve seen it yourself last year when Thomas Welsh dragged his girlfriend out of a party when he saw her walk into the room in a tight and cropped tanktop. Everyone heard them fight outside, Thomas was seeing red, accusing poor girl with straight up wanting to cheat on him in front of his eyes.

You are definitely not trying to go through the same thing, so Willy Wonka is ditched.

When Harry texts you that he is just about five minutes away from your dorm, you’ve just finished getting ready. Since you changed your mind about the costume so last minute, you didn’t have time to put together a killer second one so you ended up with a basic Wednesday Adams costume, since you had everything for that in your wardrobe already. It looks fine, the braids look actually cute on you, but you still feel bitter about not being Willy Wonka.

There’s a knock on your door and you rush to open it. Harry is standing there, leaning against the doorframe in his sparkly Elton John LA Dodgers outfit that you helped him pick out. He looks amazing and it’s the first time you see him with the glasses on. The fit is on point for sure.

He is smirking brightly when you open the door, but when he sees you, confusion takes over his expression as he walks in.

“What happened?” he asks, taking a long look at your outfit.

“What do you mean?”

“You said you’d be Willy Wonka. What happened to that?”

You open your mouth to tell him you never told him you’d be Willy Wonka, but then you realize that you actually did. On your first date.

And he remembered.

“Um… That didn’t work out,” you shrug, playing it off as you gather your phone and purse so you can leave. Or you at least try to, because Harry takes your hands, empties them and pulls you to your bed.

“Why don’t you want to wear the Willy Wonka costume, babe? You seemed so excited about it earlier.”

“How do you even remember? I briefly mentioned it on our first date,” you huff, trying to change the subject sneakily.

“I remember everything about you,” he grins, tapping a finger on your nose. “Now tell me, what happened to the costume? Did it get ruined or something?”

“Nothing. It’s still fine in my closet,” you mumble.

“So then why aren’t you wearing it?”

“Can we just move on, please? You don’t like my Wednesday costume?”

“I like it, but you clearly don’t.”

You groan as you roll your eyes. You hate how persistent he is, but it’s also one of his best traits. He doesn’t slack, he doesn’t try to avoid anything.

“The dress is… kinda revealing. Or more like… slutty,” you admit, looking anywhere but at his handsome face. “I don’t want you to get frustrated when other guys comment on it.”

He stays silent then, for so long that you look at him at last only to see him smiling at you. That’s not the reaction you were expecting, at all.

“Wear the costume, Y/N.”

“What? Didn’t you hear me?” you ask with wide eyes.

“I did,” he nods.

“I said my dress is slutty. I mean, really! It’s short, tight and my boobs are on display,” you repeat, elaborating on the details, but he is still smirking cheekily at you.

“Now I just want to see you in it even more. Wear the costume, babe.”

“You’re not gonna… make a scene if someone says something dirty?”

“I know how to fight,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “They can look all they want, I’m fine with that, but I’ll just throw punches if they make you uncomfortable. Easy as it is.”

“You’re not gonna turn into the green eyed monster if you see someone staring at my boobs or legs?”

“As long as they are just looking, I think I’ll be fine. I will look too,” he adds with a chuckle. “I’m a pretty calm dude. I’ll only act if I feel like you’re in danger.”

You’re speechless. Completely.

Any guy you know would have flipped and turned into a cavemen while Harry is just sitting there, smiling calmly at you. It starts to sink in for real that you’ve hit the jackpot with him.

But you kinda already knew that.

Leaning in you press a big, sloppy kiss to his lips before jumping up from the bed to change. Harry makes himself comfortable on your bed, scrolling on his phone and you tell him to cover his eyes before you put on your costume and do the last touches.

“Ready?” you ask him, striking a pose in front of him as he sits with his hand over his eyes.

“Absolutely,” he grins.

“Okay, you can look.”

He moves his hand and his eyes land on you. His mouth hangs open as he runs his gaze up and down your body over and over again.

“What do you think?” you ask, fixing your hat, giving him a twirl. He is just staring at you, not saying a word and as the moments pass by silently, you get scared the dress is too much after all and he has changed his mind. “I-I can change back if—“

“No, no, no!” he jumps up from the bed, walking over to you. “Don’t change!”

“But you seem… shocked. You don’t like it?” you nervously ask as his hands find their way to your waist, pulling you against him.

“I love it, babe. I just… I have never wanted to have sex with Willy Wonka, so it’s a surprise to me,” he admits, making you laugh.

“It’s not too much? Are you sure you’re fine with me wearing it?”

“You can wear anything you want. I told you,” he smirks. “I know how to fight.”

He kisses you as his arms tighten around you and the two of you get carried away pretty fast, especially when he realizes just how easily he can get under your dress with this skirt length.

“Mm, wait, we’re already awfully late,” you remind him between kisses.

“But Mrs. Wonka, I won the golden ticket!” he whines playfully.

“I will show you around the chocolate factory later, okay?” you giggle, stealing a few more kisses before peeling him off of you.

“Will I get a taste too, if I’ll be a good boy tonight?” he cheekily asks, following you out of the room.

“Of course. I’ll give you my sweetest treats,” you grin at him.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!