#made myself want to cry writing this

[jamespottersmixtape]

september 9: ocean 1,118 words @rosekiller-microfic

Beach day! Just them being stupid and soft and in love :,)

Evan stretches his arms and legs languidly across the beach towel he's laying on. The fabric is littered with warm sand that has long since fallen off of his body, leaving behind patches of sunscreen where it clashed with the water. He can smell the salt drying in his hair, a breeze hitting his face as he squints at the sky.

It's days like today that make Evan believe in perfection—or, as close to perfection as something can get. The weather is lovely, bright sun and a cloudless sky, a cooling wind coming in from the west. The ocean waves lap against the shore in small swells, cold but bearable for swimming in the heat, and the sound of the water is a calming lull, set to draw people into it's shimmering depths.

He can hear children laughing with their parents, splashing and making sandcastles without a care in the world. It almost makes him ache for the childhood he never got—his family too hung up on stuffy suits and formal dinners to register what their kids might want—but he's past that now. That life is far behind him and not once has Evan ever looked back. Besides, he's far too content to sit and dwell on the past right now. He'd much rather bask in everything the coast has to offer him, and continue to ignore whoever keeps shouting his name in the distance.

He smiles to himself. Everything is perfect.

"Evan!"

He internally groans and closes his eyes. Maybe whoever is yelling will think he's asleep and decide not to bother him.

"Evann!!"

The voice is getting closer now. He thought everyone went to get snacks? Who is yelling? Why are they yelling?

"EVAN!" Before he knows it the voice is directly above him, and an entire bottle of water is being dumped on his face.

He startles with a very unmanly yelp, his eyes flying open to find Barty keeled over in laughter, water bottle in hand, and Regulus standing next to him looking rather irritated. "What the fuck?!" Evan asks, wiping the dripping water from his cheeks.

"What do you mean, what the fuck, we've been calling you for two minutes," Regulus huffs, taking a small step away from Barty as he chokes out the rest of his laughs.

Evan glares at the pair of them. "Why?"

"They ran out of cookies and cream," Barty shrugs, laughter still evident in the way his eyes are lit up.

"You–" he sighs, running fingers through his tangled wet hair. "You dumped water on me because they ran out of my favorite ice cream?" Sometimes Evan can't believe he fell in love with this man.

"We didn't know what else you wanted," Regulus says flatly. Evan can tell he's trying to hold back a smile. Asshole.

Evan scoffs, getting up from his now soaked towel and grumbling something along the lines of been my friends for 12 years and can't even remember what ice cream I like.

"Look, my fucking hair is all wet again. I just spent an hour drying off and you ruined it," he pouts, shoving a finger harshly into Barty's chest; they both know there's no bite beneath his words.

Barty snorts, taking Evan's hand in his as they walk towards the small ice cream shop located right off the beach. "You should've seen your face baby."

Evan's cheeks heat at the term of endearment. He can't remember when Barty started calling him that, but one day it appeared and never left, a new staple in Barty's 'Evan vocabulary'. Evan can't say he minds, in fact he's grown rather fond of the name.

"Dickhead," he grumbles in retaliation. "You're mean."

"Mmm, but that's why you love me." Barty presses a quick and sloppy kiss to his cheek before he can duck his head.

He rolls his eyes but returns the favor. He can taste the sweat and salt clinging to Barty's skin.

Regulus interrupts with a loud gagging noise. "You two are so fucking weird," he says, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

—

They get their ice cream without any more hiccups, Evan settling for salted caramel instead and Barty for an obscure chocolate combination. He doesn't even know why they get their own flavors really, him and Barty always trade halfway through—but he supposes that's the fun of it.

The four of them—it's just him, Barty, Regulus, and James today—spend the rest of the afternoon in and out of the water. They sunbathe, James hits a volleyball around—even roping Barty into a game or two, something Evan never would've seen coming—and Evan manages to carry Barty's lanky frame all the way to the shoreline to toss him in. It was revenge, okay?

By the time the sun is setting the two couples are sprawled a short distance from each other, watching the pink and orange hues dance along the horizon before the stars come out to play.

Evan has his back to Barty's chest, resting between his legs with both their hands entwined over Evan's stomach. Every so often Barty presses a kiss to Evan's temple.

It's rare for the two of them to have such tender moments like this, especially in the company of others. Usually they reserve their soft touches and quiet whispers for the tranquility of the morning or weekends at home, but it's a nice change to be so open with vulnerable affection.

"Today was fun," Evan yawns, his body finally catching up with the day's exhaustion.

Barty hums in agreement. “I’m gonna get you back for throwing me in the ocean though,” he murmurs, nipping at Evan’s earlobe.

“Excuse me, that was my payback.”

“Just saying," he lulls in a sing-song voice. "You better watch your back Ev.”

"I'll be sure to sleep with one eye open."

They both laugh at that, content and serene in the little bubble they've created. Evan tries to snuggle further into Barty's chest but to no avail. Barty lets him drop against the towel, swinging himself over Evan's body so his face hovers inches above his.

Evan raises an eyebrow. Barty's grin is devilish when it breaks across his face. He leans down and slots their lips together for a quick kiss, one filled with sun and ice cream and salty air.

When Barty speaks it's low, just for the two of them. A quiet I love you exchanged between an inhale and exhale. Three words that always open the floodgates to Evan's guarded heart.

The day ends with the two of them curled up on their sides, legs tangled and clothes dusted with sand as the last sliver of light dips below the water.

Evan couldn't ask for anything better.

[littleplantfreak]

'When', not 'if'

("I'm not a romantic" I cry and scream before dropping the most sickening thing i've written to date. Blame @stunie because i did tell her i would write the most ume thing ever and maybe this is it. The title in my docs for it is 'Fucking disgusting' but i figured i better not title it that here because I'd be seeing it in my notifs lmaoo)

SFW/no cw unless you hate fluff

When you wake up from your nap, one of your slippers is gone, and there's a blanket on you that wasn't there prior. Looking at the clock, it's been about an hour since everyone had left your apartment once your birthday party ended. The day as a whole had been chaotic, your boyfriend shoving you out the door with a note to go see Kotoha.

The note took you farther than that, though, as it seemed Umemiya created a whole scavenger hunt for your birthday that had you running into all of your friends, having dessert at your favorite cafe, and eventually ending up at your shared apartment to find that all that time spent around town was a distraction so that he could set up the space for your party. After it had ended, you were banished to the couch because princesses aren't allowed to help clean up their own birthday parties, which had you huffing and falling face down into the chicken shaped pillow affectionately called Mr.Clucky.

It was a product of your boyfriend's endless cycle of hobbies when he took up sewing. A little lopsided and overfilled with stuffing, you complained to and into Mr.Clucky with your face pressed into him. Apparently, he was soft enough to fall asleep on because before you knew it, you had been drooling on him the entire hour. Prying yourself off the couch took more effort than was almost worth it before your eyes fell on the reason you were so tired to begin with.

Hajime smiles and hums looking at your bleary eyes. "Good morning sunshine, I was just about to take you to bed," he says, folding a dish towel over a chair. You toss off the blanket and grab on the slipper that fell under the living room table before padding up to him. Dipping your hands under both of his arms to lock them together behind him, now your face is in his chest instead of the chicken, which is entirely preferred.

"Don't wanna go to bed just yet," you muffle, sinking even deeper into him when both of his arms wrap around you in support. He smells like dish soap and birthday cake, and you turn your head to hear the heartbeat in his chest.

"What do you wanna do lovey? You know I'd give you the world if you asked," you can hear the rumble of his voice in his chest with your pressed ear. He's cheesy, but half asleep, you feel just as much, if not cheesier.

"I have the world if I have you, they're one in the same. So just you is more than fine." Your eyes are closed, but you feel him shiver a little. "I wanna dance with you, though," you say, voice still soft and kinda raspy from sleep.

"Dunno if I can top what you just said even when I propose," he chokes out a laugh, or at least you think it's one. He shifts his hold a bit and starts leading you both in a lazy sway that starts near the toaster and ends next to the potted plant at the back door before starting over.

"When? Not if?" You tease him, a hand going to scratch the nape of his neck lightly.

"I'll never meet another you, so I'm pretty set on When."

"I'll say yes." Because you will. You can't imagine a life where you wouldn't.

"And I'll still cry when you do." You can tell he's crying now because it comes out shaky and his hold tightens a bit, before you lean back, stopping your impromptu waltz. Both of your hands come up to cup his face and look at his teary grey eyes before cooing at him.

"You big baby! Save those tears for When please. You'll be congested and sniffley all night if you don't stop." You start cleaning off his face with your sleeve, but he stops one of your hands and starts peppering your palm and wrist with small kisses. "I think I'm ready for bed now. Princess's orders," you say, dragging him towards your bedroom. You'll have to figure out tomorrow just how soon When is going to be, but for now you can hear the slow thumps of Hajime's steps as he follows behind you, squeezing your connected hand. It's not pressing in the least, you think, because it feels like there will be plenty of tomorrows too.

-----

When you wake up in the morning, it takes you an hour to realize Hajime had put the ring on your finger while you were asleep.

It takes you five minutes to run through town in your pajamas, barefoot to find and full on tackle him in front of the place he was about to get your breakfast in.

And it takes about two minutes of unintelligible blubbering on both your parts before anyone understands what is going on.

No one timed it, but if they did, it would've taken less than ten minutes for the whole town to find out via texts, calls, and yells down the streets and through windows that you're engaged.

[psychidelias]

There's something so beautiful about Red Dwarf just as a concept and as a series.

Comedy aside, it has one of the most meaningful messages I think I've ever seen. The whole idea of being hopelessly lost and alone in the infinity of space but still having hope and love is just unbelievable. Dave Lister is just the ultimate guy ever.

He's a loser, a nobody, a complete write-off in terms of his career, a depressed, lonely man who is the last of his species, the only one left, three million years away from home.

Yet he still has hope. He still appreciates beauty in the rockiest places. He still believes in justice and life above all else, so much so that his worst fear is losing his morality. He still goes on.

He's so far away from home that there's no realistic hope of getting back, but he doesn't care. He makes a home out of everything and everyone around him, eternally living in the only way -the best way- he can.

He's created his own Promised Land.

[emberglowfox]

i kind of knew in theory that all my hobbies involved my hands but i kind of just ignored it n was like oh well im sure id manage

top ten pics taken seconds before disaster

[existential-labrador]

Lokius prompt: After Loki becomes a tree (will that ever sound normal?) Mobius finds a gift Loki left for him in the time theatre - Loki’s memories of all of those centuries he lived through that Mobius won’t remember and all of the time they spent together 🥺

Pure angst please.

Sobfest or bust.

[buttercupshands]

Congratulations on nothing. I'm back to drawing LoV again after a bit of a break

those are mostly just a redraw practice for fun Toga is a try in "more canon way of drawing" with color practice too

I'm sorry that it's in russian because I have to have some will to localize jokes that came into my head while drawing it

it's like... a robot au??? or something, mostly just a joke "what if AFo just built Tenko and changed what he wanted"

and this is a joke about our 'favorite' 419 plot twist so it's basically just a bunch of joked about AFO failing to get any way to get control instead Tenko's head is not empty. It downloaded games, friends and stuff about being a hero but NOT as a literal hero, more on "villains need help I'm a hero then" way

and yes that text behind is "hands" written all over the place bc I wanted to add hands in handwritten form

[tabbytabbytabby]

Never wanna hear you say goodbye

Word Count: 1,054 words

Rating: Teen and Up

Warning: Major Character Death

Fandom: 9-1-1

Relationship: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard

Tags: Established Relationship, Established Evan "Buck" Buckley/Tommy Kinard, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Tommy Kinard, Worried Evan "Buck" Buckley, Angst, Hurt No Comfort, Boys In Love, Sad, Sad Ending, Protective Tommy Kinard, Character Death

Summary: Buck and Tommy's date night takes a horrible turn, leaving Buck feeling helpless as he tries to save the man he loves.

Read on AO3

For the Dying in Their Arms space for @badthingshappenbingo. Card under the cut.

[caesurah-tblr]

Take this. I cried writing it.

No TWs for this one.

They’re running.

It hurts, running this much. Every step he takes feels like a knife digging into his guts. Charlie seems even worse off- he’s stumbling behind, making these horrible, pained sounds.

They should be safe now. God, he hopes they’re safe. He just wants this to be over.

Ranboo skids to a stop and turns to Charlie, catching his struggling friend in his arms.

“You’re okay.” The words feel like a lie. The amount of blood- he’s seen so much blood today- and the paling of Charlie’s skin tells Ranboo all he needs to know.

“I’m okay.” Charlie repeats, nodding. He looks exhausted. “Where are we?”

Ranboo shrugs. “My best guess? Outside. At least we’re out of the facility.”

“Out-outside?” Charlie looks puzzled. “This is outside?”

Those words hurt. Ranboo is once again reminded how horrible Showfall had treated his friend- they had ripped away his memories and had given him a new life, only to tell him in the end it was all a lie.

“I- I don’t.” Charlie’s knees buckle, and Ranboo helps him sit down in the dirt. They’re in a small alcove of trees- from the outside, this mall has been abandoned for a long time, and nature has staked its claim on the land. The sound of birds and the gentle brush of the wind against the leaves make the moment almost seem serene.

“You’ve never been outside?” He grips his friend’s arms. They’re slick with blood.

“I can’t- I can’t remember. But it’s- it’s really nice out here, man.” Charlie pulls away from him and brings his hands to the ground to grip the dirt. “We’re free? They can’t hurt us here?”

“I think so.” Ranboo watches Charlie pull up fistfuls of dirt and rub them between his palms as if fascinated by the texture. “They didn’t even follow us past the doors. We’re safe.”

“That’s great. And you’re okay? Got your memories back?” Ranboo nods and Charlie closes his eyes with a sigh, a relieved smile on his lips.

“Thank fucking god.” He’s collapsing, then, falling into Ranboo’s arms. He catches Charlie, not caring about the blood smearing along his clothes as he grips the body of the only friend he has left.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Charlie mutters in his ear. “Everything is okay now. We’re safe. Ranboo?”

“Yeah Charlie?”

“I think I’m gonna take a nap, okay? I’ve never been outside before. It feels so nice.”

Ranboo shakes his head. “You gotta get up. You can nap later, okay? I know you can’t remember anything, but now you can make your own memories. They don’t control you anymore.”

“This is my memory, Ranboo.” Charlie squeezes him. “I finally get to feel what it’s like to be outside, and I finally get to see you go home. Like it was always meant to be.”

“Charlie-“

“Help me lay down? I wanna feel the grass.”

Ranboo gently lays his friend in the grass, removing his own jacket to tuck under Charlie’s head for comfort.

Charlie pats the ground beside him and Ranboo lays down too. It’s such a nice day- the sun is shining through the trees, casting beautiful rays of light. He wonders what it would be like to see it for the first time.

Charlie looks absolutely mesmerized by the sight and it brings Ranboo to tears. It’s not fair that Charlie won’t get the chance to experience happy things.

“You think this is cool? You should see a sunset.”

“A sunset?” There are tears running down Charlie’s face, but the wide grin tells him they’re happy tears. Just this and he’s ecstatic.

Ranboo sniffles. “Uh, yeah. It’s what happens when the sun goes down. The sky gets filled with all these pinks and yellows and reds. It’s beautiful.”

Ranboo tells him about everything. About sunrises, about the ocean- happy things. All the while, Charlie listens as he digs his hands into the soil, like his committing the feeling to memory.

“It all sounds so nice.” Charlie turns to him. “I’m glad you’ll get to see those things again.”

Fuck. “You should get to see all those things too. It’s not fair.” A sob slips past his lips. “You’ve worked so hard to survive. You didn’t even get your memories back!”

Charlie shrugs, eyes closing as he turns back towards the sky. “My memories, if I ever had any, don’t exist anymore. But this memory? It’s mine. And if it’s the only memory I’ll ever have, then that’s enough for me.”

Ranboo can’t help but let out another sob. If given another chance, he’d take the blow that had fatally injured Charlie. It had been meant for him, after all.

“Tell me about your friends?” Charlie asks. And Ranboo does.

He watches the color slowly fade from Charlie’s eyes as he tells him about his friends and family. He feels so helpless, but Charlie looks so happy to be here in the grass and dirt with the sun shining through the trees, so he keeps going and doesn’t stop until the body beside him goes still.

“Charlie?” Ranboo sits up and looks down at his friend, tears starting anew at the sight.

Charlie’s eyes look towards the sky and he wears a soft smile on his lips- it’s almost peaceful, in a weird way. Charlie has been fighting for even longer than Ranboo has, and he has finally gotten what he had always so desperately wanted.

A memory to call his own. One Showfall can never mess with.

“Goodbye, friend.”

[leslieseveride]

okay, but i need the girls to try and cheer lucy up by getting her drunk, only to have their plan backfire when lucy starts sobbing over and over about how much she misses and still loves tim.

[ventebleck]

I want to be loved

I want to be loved. I want to be loved the way they describe it in the books I found too cheesy to read when I was younger.

I want to be hugged from behind, and feel the tiny kisses they leave in my neck. I want to be cuddled while we watch a movie, and make stupid commentary throughout, not even once wondering if I'm being annoying.

I want to know that when I feel upset because of something they did, they will try to understand and apologize, even if that thing was small or stupid or not worth their time.

I want to hold hands and feel close to them even when we're with their friends, like they are telling me that I'm still important, that they are with me no matter the circumstance.

I want to kiss them, and feel their skin close to mine, without the expectation of sex afterwards. To be able to feel closer to them without the fear of making them feel disappointed when I just want to hug, and nothing else.

I want to look into each other’s eyes, and see their love for me. I want them to be able to express with words how much I mean to them, the same way I’d know how to express my devotion for them.

I want random I love you’s, acts of kindness, I want to be remembered randomly while they were grocery shopping and receive a text with a photo of a pizza or candy with the caption “Saw your favourite and made me think of you”.

I want to be taken care of when I’m sick, I want to be put in bed, to be kissed in the forehead, and know they’ll be there when I wake up.

I want long conversations about stupid things, and even longer conversations about important stuff that need to be talked about.

I want to feel respected, loved, needed, and wanted. I want to be understood and appreciated.

I want someone to look me in the eyes, both hands on both my cheeks, and tell me I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.

I want to love, and I want to be loved.

[twistmusings]

I am definitely showing off a bit under the cut because I can't believe this happened.

Positively losing my mind that this was my first pull, Lilia is the GOAT and no one can tell me otherwise. I love peepaw.

[just-mebs]

I finally finished playing Outer Wilds and I'm like,, this game has completely crushed me

[timoothy]

[ID: A title that reads: It‘s A Loop. Next to it is a yellow goat. /ID END]

SUMMARY:

It's quite a day: Nearly getting hit by a truck, drenched in hot coffee and then asked to help get rid of a dead body. Thank god, Ted doesn't have to relive that day ever again. Right?

Or: Ted Spankoffski finds himself in a timeloop. And he's not alone.

to quote Emma Perkins in the 2018 hit musical The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: "It's just a fucking loop?!"

CHAPTER 1: The Goat On The Intersection

[20sidedwizard]

one of my favorite things about world building is just the fact that you can add or do anything you want as long as you can make it make sense. I so often see people limiting their world to a basic theme or idea. Nothing else, practicing moderation is important yes, but it's about what you can add, pirates and Samari existed at the same time.

Believe it or not but a world is truly realistic if there's a billion random cultures around the world. If you can take two completely different places set then next to each other and not be able to guess they came from the same world, that's realistic. It's not about a swamp being next to a jungle, or your deserts being in the right place, it's about putting stuff there. As long as it can be justified and interacts with a reasonable portion of a world in an interesting why. Add it!

Ill share my own, I've been making a world of sentient bugs, hominoid bugs that are as accurate as possible to their real-world counter parts. kingdoms are fun to make yes, but what about some strangely boys in the swamp.

I had an idea based on an event earlier in the world, where the sun just disappeared for a while and even 500 years later the ramifications are still in effect. But what if a bunch of pirates where stuck at the now frozen sea? What if somehow, they meant a strange being that taught them to survive, what if so long after words they forgot they were even pirates to begin with? Their history become told though shanties. Their outfit's at first made to endure the cold slowly began to include symbols from their ancestors, eye Paches, Hooks, the colour black, not even understanding what they were, the masks the pirates wore to hide idents become idents.

But how the hell am I going to include that? No where else does something like that happen, I've already go kingdoms, locations and history for all of them, does this even fit?

But then I said yes, the world shifted changed. But you control how, a world is never big enough if you ask me. Add same crazy stuff like that spend 5 days working it in then take a step back and think about what they add. Its so fun

[novelmonger]

Ed and Hughes (FMA) #17

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

(specifically '03 animeverse) Prompt: "Are you just going to keep walking by my house or are you going to come in?"

“Did he come back?”

Peering through the tiny slit of the curtains, Maes spotted the small figure standing under the streetlight. No red coat, no braid, no swagger. Just a twelve-year-old boy dressed in black, hands stuffed into pockets as he stared up at their house. “Yeah.”

“That's the third time,” Gracia yawned from the bed.

“It's like he's...too embarrassed to come knock on the door, but he wants to,” Maes murmured, watching the way Ed just stood there, scuffing his shoe against the ground and not moving on.

With a sigh, Gracia sat up. “Well, either call him inside or come back to bed.”

Maes looked over his shoulder at her and smiled, his heart warming at the sight of her. Even with tousled hair and huge bags under her eyes, exhausted from the demands of a certain little someone asleep in the next room, Gracia looked so beautiful. It was tempting to just crawl back under the covers and drift off to sleep again, but something told him he wouldn't be able to rest until he knew why Edward Elric was standing outside his house in the middle of the night.

Call it the Investigations officer in him. Or maybe the father.

As he passed by the bed on the way to the door, Gracia got up and reached for her housecoat. Maes held out a hand to stop her. “No—I can talk to him, hon. You need your sleep.”

Ignoring him, Gracia stepped into her slippers. “I'll make some hot chocolate.”

When she made to step past him, he stopped her with a kiss. “You're the best.”

With a sweet smile, she patted him on the cheek. “I know.”

And so, while Gracia headed to the kitchen, Maes opened the front door and stepped outside. Belatedly, he realized just how cold it was and regretted going outside in bare feet with nothing but his teddy bear-printed pajamas between him and the chill night air.

Ed was just on the other side of the fence now, frozen in place like a rabbit about to bolt. Maes couldn't read his expression from this distance in the dark. Raising a hand in welcome, he called out, “Are you just going to keep walking by my house, or are you going to come in?”

Slowly, dragging his feet the whole way, Ed opened the gate and slouched his way up to the door. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Didn't mean to wake you up....”

“Never mind that,” Maes said, ushering him through the door. “Just get inside; it's freezing out there.”

Flipping on the lights to fill the room with a warm, cheery light, Maes guided Ed through to the living room and pushed on his shoulders to make him sit down on the couch. As Maes sat down beside him, he got a better look at the disheveled boy.

Huge circles under his eyes, like he hadn't slept in a week. Hollow cheeks, like he hadn't been eating right. His hair was tangled, not even held back in a ponytail. Instead of his usual brash confidence, Ed's shoulders slumped and he stared listlessly at the floor.

“Where's Al?” Maes asked. Best to start with the basics.

Ed shrugged. “With Winry.”

“Winry...oh, right, your girlfriend.” Maes waited for a reaction, but didn't get any. That concerned him more than anything yet. “They know you're here?”

Another shrug. “Went for a walk. Needed to clear my head.”

Maes nodded. Those boys had been through a lot lately, what with tracking down Barry the Chopper and also the whole Tucker situation. It made perfect sense that Ed wasn't his usual self. “Is it helping?”

Ed shook his head. A minute of silence passed while Maes waited for Ed to say more and Ed just stared at the floor.

Maybe he just needed more of an opening. “So how come you ended up on my doorstep tonight, Ed?” he asked softly. “It's a pretty long walk from your hotel. Did you...want to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah...no...I don't know.” Ed sighed, dropping his chin into his hand.

Maes's detective brain started whirring away as he looked at the slump of Ed's shoulders, the way he hung his head and didn't look Maes in the eye. Here he was, in the dead of night, clearly wanting comfort or at least a listening ear...and he wasn't with his brother or his childhood friend. Al and Winry were probably the two people he would normally turn to first for comfort and understanding, as they'd known each other their whole lives.

So why was Ed here, with a man he'd met just a couple months ago? What would Ed want to talk about that he wouldn't want to talk about with the two people who were closest to him?

Pushing his glasses up his nose, Maes asked quietly, “Is this about Nina?”

Ed jerked as if Maes had poked him with a fork, suddenly sitting up straight and staring at him with wide eyes. Maes's heart clenched. He's just a kid. He's twelve. And look at everything he's already been through....

“How'd you...?” Those golden eyes filled with tears and Ed hastily looked away, as if trying to hide behind his long bangs. But Maes could still see his chin trembling.

Maes put a hand on Ed's shoulder, and a choked sob escaped him. Ed pressed a fist to his mouth as if to stifle it, but Maes would have none of that. He slid across the couch and wrapped his arms around Ed, pulling him in close. “It's okay,” he murmured, patting Ed's back just like he always did with Elysia. “I've got you.”

Ed grabbed the back of Maes's shirt, his grip so strong but his sobs surprisingly weak, muffled in Maes's shoulder. Strange. Elysia's tiny hands were much weaker, but her cries were loud and piercing.

Maes felt the same desire well up in his heart—the desire to hold this child close forever and to never, never let go.

But Ed did let go. He pulled back, sniffling and rubbing his sleeve across his eyes with hasty, furtive movements, turning his face away as if embarrassed to have done something like that. But Maes kept an arm around his shoulders, and Ed didn't break his grip. If anything, even though he looked ashamed of his outburst, he leaned towards Maes, as if secretly longing to stay in his embrace.

So Maes settled close to Ed's side with his arm around him, an open invitation if Ed wanted more. “I know you've probably heard this so many times by now it's lost its meaning,” he said heavily, “but it wasn't your fault.”

“Yes, it was.” Ed's chin began to tremble again, but he clenched it and looked defiantly up at Maes through his tears. “I could've stopped him. I should've figured it out before he...he....”

“Hey,” Maes said, squeezing Ed's shoulder until he realized it was his metal shoulder and he wouldn't be able to feel it. “There's a lot of people who can say they should have done something. We all realize that, looking back. But you can't beat yourself up for it. We do our best with what we know at the time.”

Ed's mouth twisted into an ugly scowl. “Guess my best is just never enough, then. 'Cause I did my best...and I still failed her. Just like I always—“ He bit his lip, but that did nothing to stop big, fat tears from rolling down his cheeks.

“Hey, now.” Maes pulled Ed in close again, and Ed didn't protest. His shoulders shook with the force of his tears, miserable and broken. “Don't you go telling yourself that you've failed everyone. That's just not true.”

Ed made a garbled sound of protest, but it was muffled in his shirt, so Maes elected to ignore it.

“You're thinking about your mother, aren't you?” he said softly, rubbing Ed's back in circles. “Maybe I don't know the whole story, but one thing I know for certain is that she would never tell you that you failed her. I'm sure your mom wouldn't have wanted you to sacrifice what you did, trying to bring her back. But she would understand. Because she loved you. She knew that you did what you did because you were desperate, and you wanted to see her again.”

Edward drew a deep, shuddering breath, but didn't say anything, so Maes continued. “And I know for a fact that Al would never call you a failure for what you did for him. He looks up to you. He respects you. He's grateful for what you did, because it's kept you two together all this time. It's given you a second chance to make things right. The way he sees it, you saved his life.

“Now, you may not have been able to save Nina's life,” he murmured, absently stroking Ed's tangled hair, “but you brought so much joy to that little girl's life while she was still here. I could see it from the first time I laid eyes on her, you know. You were like a brother to her. And I know you tried your hardest to help her even after...what happened. She wasn't just a failed experiment to you, was she? She was still Nina.”

A little moan was the only response he got.

“Sometimes...there's nothing we can do. We can't prevent it, and we can't fix it. Unfortunately, that's the way life is sometimes. And I'm so sorry you've already had to learn this so many times.”

“It hurts,” Ed sobbed. “I-I don't want it to hurt!”

“I know.” Tears stung Maes's eyes, but all he could do was hold Ed close. “I know.”

Minutes passed in silence. Gradually, Ed's tears subsided into sniffles and shuddery, hiccuping breaths. Maes relaxed his embrace enough for Ed to sit back against the couch cushions, wiping the tears away. This time, he didn't look embarrassed. He seemed too worn out for any of that nonsense by now.

Gracia's timing was impeccable as always. She picked the perfect moment to walk out into the living room with a tray of steaming mugs and a plate of cookies. As soon as she set the tray down, before even serving the hot chocolate, she perched on the arm of the couch and pulled Ed into a hug, complete with kiss on the top of the head. Ed's cheeks tinged red, but he still lingered in her embrace as if reluctant to let her go.

Like any other twelve-year-old boy who'd been carrying a weight of grief and just needed loving parents to hold him and reassure him that everything would be all right. Maes had to bite his tongue to keep himself from announcing that they were adopting him and Al on the spot.

Just as Gracia got to her feet again, a baby's cry echoed down the stairs. Glancing at the clock, Gracia said, “It's time for Elysia's next feeding. Please make yourself at home, Edward. Maes can help you make up the couch if you want to stay the night.”

“Oh...that's okay,” Ed mumbled as she left.

“Here.” Maes passed him a mug of chocolate and positioned the plate of cookies within easy reach, snagging one for himself. After the emotional turmoil, he felt he could use a midnight snack too.

After a sip or two of the hot chocolate, Ed glanced up at Maes again. “Thanks.”

Maes smiled, his heart lifting to see the spark of something that had been missing in Ed's eyes before. “Anytime.”

[rainbowserenity]

Re: cliches, "I'll bandage you up" sounds like a good one for Lightning and Hope 🥰

Neither of them had much talent for cooking. Sure, they could boil pasta or throw something in the oven, but anything more intricate was usually handed over to Serah. So when Lightning walked into the kitchen one day and saw Hope surrounded by pots and pans and utensils, methodically chopping some vegetables, she was more than a little surprised.

"What are you doing?" He glanced up at her voice, immediately breaking into a smile. "Hey," he greeted, adding with a little chuckle, "this was supposed to be a surprise."

She smirked. "You don't sound all that mad that I caught you."

"As if I ever could be." He put down the knife and leaned over for a smooch, only their lips touching since his hands were covered in who knew what.

"True." Her eyes roamed over everything that was spread all over the kitchen. "Now that I did catch you, though, you can answer me."

Hope laughed a bit, the sound tinged with nervousness. "It's silly." "Try me." He sighed and went back to his chopping. "One of my coworkers mentioned how her wife surprised her with this elaborate from-scratch dinner for their anniversary last weekend. The way she described it sounded really nice and I just..." He shrugged, his ears turning a bit red. "It just sounded like something nice I could do for you."

Lightning stared at him for a long moment before a little smile quirked the edges of her lips. She moved to stand next to Hope, gently bumping her hip against his. "You didn't have to go through the trouble." "I want to, though. I always like doing - shit!"

She jumped a little as the knife slipped, slicing along the side of Hope's hand. He immediately dropped it and turned on the faucet to run his hand under the water. When it still kept bleeding after a minute, Lightning took his non-injured hand and started tugging him towards the bathroom. "Come on. I'll bandage you up." Luckily, the cut wasn't deep enough to need stitches, so she made quick work of cleaning it and bandaging it up. Hope gave her a funny little smile the whole time, and when she was finally done, he chuckled a bit and said, "You didn't have to go through the trouble." She rolled her eyes a little at having her words thrown back at her. Two could play at that game. "I always like doing nice things for you." She squeezed his hand a little, glancing up at him through her bangs. "Got a problem with that?" "Not at all." He grinned and kissed the top of her head. "Lemme repay you with dinner now, hmm?" "Right." She let him tug her back to the kitchen, where he kissed her again before going back to his prep work. This was nice, she decided. There was something about watching him cook for them that sent a little flutter through her chest. And if dinner ended up being inedible, well, she was certainly nice enough to have a takeout menu at the ready.