#my grandfather ruined MY MUG

[chambers003]

does anyone have the ‘dont talk to me until ive had my 4-6 hours of minecraft bloodsports’ mug i actually want to get one but i need a reference image

[factorialsotherfandoms]

Small scene, au in which the characters go home to get dinner instead of eating on mission during opd episode 11, and that's all I'll save above the cut...

It's still late, or perhaps inhumanly early. Erin's grandfather has long since gone to bed, leaving them free to make use of the kitchen and the sofa. It has been some time since Luciano was here, but he still remembers his way around well enough.

He cannot be doing with milk, so he throws hot water over expensive but instant hot chocolate, stirs it a bit, then brings the two mugs through to the living room.

Erin is right here he left her, sat on the sofa and staring at her hands. When she looks up, the blanket over her shoulders slips. Luciano hands her her mug, then tugs it back up.

"Thank you," she whispers. Quietly, too quietly.

Luciano sits with her, flicking the tv on and turning the volume low. Some football match reply - it'll do.

"It's fine," he tells her. "Don't worry about it."

Erin looks back down at her mug. Luciano follows her gaze, eyes narrowing as her fingers flex back and forth against the porcelain.

"It's okay now, Erin," he tells her, doing his very best to be gentle. "We're home."

Air is sucked in through her teeth, and Luciano knows it is not quite the right thing to say.

"It's not okay, Lu, it's never okay," she tells him, still quiet, now hiccuping, but turning on him. "Either I can't speak to you, or you think there is danger. So. Which is it, Lu? Are we safe or not?"

"Neither," he tells her. "Just with everything that happened… Calming down is hard right now."

She looks at him for barely a moment before flopping against his side, tears smearing the dust on her face. It's unusually quiet for Erin, but then she has never wanted people to know she can cry.

"I've got you, Erin," he says, as though his own heart is not sundered in two, as though he is not also grieving, as though there is no deep heartache keeping Fernando away. "I know it hurts; you've just got to fight through."

Erin reaches out one hand, clinging to the shirt Fernando chose that morning.

"I miss you," she says. "Fernando is my friend, I would miss him too, but you're my best friend, Luciano. With grandma, and Tristan-"

A sob breaks over Erin's lips, and Luciano gives her the hug she seems to want. He holds her tight, and pretends their attention is on the football highlights the tv is showing.

He sips his drink and, as the tears dry, nudges Erin into drinking hers.

"Be careful," she asks of him. "Please, Lu, be careful; I cannot lose you too."

"You won't," he promises her.

"That's what grandma said, too."

Sometimes, Luciano forgets just how much younger Erin is. With her bombs and laughter and her constant forwards motion - it's not that she's too young for this, it is perhaps that he is too old.

But, he doesn't think he's ever seen her so ruined before. It's something he's used to, but that she is not; they haven't lost anyone this close to them in a long time - even Erin's grandma only vanished, they did not watch her die.

"When he's awake, Fernando will make you popcorn," he tells her.

She does laugh that time, wet as it is. And then, more serious, "I'd rather stay with you."

And that isn't possible, not forever.

But for now… it hurts enough, that Fernando stays asleep. A little while longer. He can stay a little while longer.

Erin needs him, after all, and he needs her; she's his best friend, too, and only alone-together do they remember how to grieve.

[twistedbunni]

I'm Sorry It Ends Like This

A/N: contains spoilers from about manga ch. 114 on just to be safe. Reader's death at the hands of Mikey, quite literally. Angst with a little sprinkling of love/affection. Little messed up in the head kinda talk/writing towards the end so ⚠️ (I didn't know if it'd warrant a dead dove warning or not but tagged as such)

Summary: Mikey pays you a final visit before heading off to the ruins, in order to say goodbye and tie up long forgotten loose ends. You both reminisce on the past and the man that once was Shinichiro Sano, your childhood crush.

Your tv was on, set to some random news channel that was currently broadcasting about another murder that had recently occured. You in all honestly were only half listening to the words being spoken by the broadcasters, sitting at your kitchen table on the verge of disassociating with the only thing keeping you tied to reality being the hot mug in your hands and the occasional mention of a familiar name from the television.

One by one all of the original Toman gang was being wiped out, killed off by the man they once devoted their lives to, and you knew before long you'd hear death knocking at your door too.

While you'd never been a member of Toman, you grew up close to the Sano family, studying in the dojo the grandfather ran. You were practically another member of the family back then, spending all your free time hanging out with Emma or watching Shinichiro work on a bike. Admittedly you'd had a crush on the older male, but with you only being a year or so older than Mikey you'd known you'd never stand at having those feelings be returned.

Regardless you'd never given up, always bringing Shinichiro little gifts like chocolates or decals you'd find that you thought would look good on one of his bikes. He'd always made sure to give you a ruffle on your head as thank you for the gifts, sometimes even offering you a ride on the latest bike he'd finished as a way to pay you back. You were in every way possible smitten with him in the way only a young teen would understand. He was your first love, and when he died you took it incredibly hard.

When Emma had told you about his passing you'd fallen to your knees Infront of her, heartbroken and sobbing on the Sano's front steps. For months you were inconsolable, a husk of a person going through the motions of life: Sleep, go to school, train at dojo, do your work, then cry till you fell asleep, repeat. Eventually when you did 'get better' you slowly stopped going to the dojo and hanging around the Sano family in general. Seeing them only reminded you of the love you'd lost and with Mikey starting his own gang you didn't want to be around it all anymore. Though you did occasionally ask mutual friends about how the siblings were doing for a few years after that.

Now here you sat however many year later, you'd lost count honestly, waiting for your old friend to visit. When you heard the knock at the door you moved on autopilot, moving mindlessly to let in the person you'd been expecting to come.

"Come in Manjiro. I've got some Dorayaki prepared for you at the table already." Your unfocused eyes caught his as you opened your door, ushering him in.

"So you've been expecting me then?" His smile was weak, eyes filled with a sadness you knew had been brewing inside him for years.

Sitting down across from him at your little table, you gave a smile filled with your own sadness. "You're old friends have all been killed, I knew you'd come for me too eventually."

"I see... well truthfully I wanted to save you for last." He bit into one of the buns, savoring the flavor for a moment before continuing. "I wanted you to be the last one I kill before I meet my own end."

"Are you planning a murder suicide with me?" Your voice was flat, absent of any emotions you'd expect someone to have when they asked a question as serious as that.

"No, I plan on spending my last night in Tokyo with you. I leave tomorrow to go out to that set of ruins Shini found those engines in. My end will be there at the hands of an old friend." He spoke so casually as if he was telling you about vacation plans instead of plotting his own demise.

"I see..." Taking a long sip from your mug, you thought over his words. "May I ask what makes me so special? Like why am I last?"

He was silent a moment, dark eyes calmly scanning over you. "If I'd taken your life before anyone else's, I would have been disappointing my brother."

"What do you mean by that?"

He finished off the Dorakayi bun he'd been eating and wiped his hands off on his pants before reaching over to gently hold one of your own hands in his. "Shini adored you, not in the same way you adored him though. He always told me how good of a person he thought you were and honestly he hoped you'd find someone that could return your feelings."

Tears prickled in your eyes at hearing that your childhood love had felt some kind of fondess for you. "He did? I guess I let him down then considering I never moved on from him."

Mikey wiped your eyes with the sleeve of his shirt. "I doubt he'd be upset at you for never falling in love. I know I'm somewhat relieved you never moved on from him in that sense."

"It just hurt so much after he died... I never wanted to feel that heartbreak again and I've missed him everyday since." You voice was soft, filled with heartbreak.

"I know the feeling, I also lost the person I loved, basically the same day I lost Shinichiro." There was a familiar sadness in his voice, the same kind you often heard in your own.

"You- you loved someone back then too?" Surprise was evident on your voice and face. Never did you think Mikey would have a crush on someone, especially back then when he seemed to be all about starting his own gang and all that. He always seemed too cool and carefree to ever develop feelings for anyone.

Mikey's smile turned into a more genuine one and he gave a small chuckle. "Yea, I did." He sat back in his seat, grabbing your mug and taking a sip from it as he averted his gaze for a moment. "I loved you back then... I still do actually. I admired that you never let yourself get discouraged from liking my big bro. I know he was not always that great of a person and he'd never be able to return your feelings but you never let that stop you from loving him. I guess I thought it was cool someone else thought my big bro was amazing too and I started feeling the same way for you as you felt for him."

A long silence held in the air for a few minutes as you processed his words and he continued to eat a few more Dorayaki buns.

"I'm sorry I left..." Voice hoarse from all the emotions flowing through you.

"Its fine. I never hated you for it, I knew exactly why you chose to leave." His hand reheld onto yours, comforting you even if only a little. "I think I would have done the same honestly. Seeing you would've also brought memories of Shinichiro, specifically all the times he'd brag about the little gifts you'd given him inorder to make me jealous or when he'd tell me I should man up and act upon my own feelings."

"I regret leaving sometimes, especially after I heard about Emma... I should have returned and been there for you." All the regrets and apologizes you held deep inside began bubbling to your surface now that Mikey was Infront of you cementing your demise with his presence. "You must have felt so alone after everything that's happened to you and I left at just the start of it all because I couldn't handle my own pain. I should have been there for you! If it was possible Shinichiro would have probably scolded me for abandoning you both after his death."

Mikey was beside you in an instant, pulling you into his arms and snapping you out of your internal self destruction. "Stop blaming yourself! Even if you had never left we'd still be in the same spot as we are now. I never blamed you for anything, neither did Emma and I'm sure my big bro wouldn't have either. Fate fucked all of us up, there was no feasible way for anyone to see just how bad things would become for the both of us."

Even after hearing his words you couldn't help from sobbing into his chest. All these years of masking the ache you'd felt was catching up to you and there was no stopping it from flowing out of you now that you've started to release it. You heard of every misfortune in Mikey's life and added it to your own pain everytime, from the struggles of Toman to the deaths of his friends and Emma. Every piece weighed on your heart as if you were the one that had caused them all by leaving after Shinichiro passed.

Not long after your tears stopped flowing and your breathing returned to normal after sobbing so hard, Mikey suggested the pair of you go lay down in your bed. All the exhaustion of letting out years of bottled emotions made you nod your head on agreement almost instantly after he'd suggested resting.

"Just rest now, I promise everything is gonna be okay and that you won't have to feel the burden of heartache for much longer." Mikey held you in his arms with all the affection the pair of you thought you'd never get to feel. "I know I said earlier I saved you for last because of how my brother felt about you but honestly I think I mainly chose to kill you last because of my own feelings. Truthfully Im an asshole who fears feeling the same pain you felt, having to live my life knowing my love is dead. I could handle living without you in my life knowing your living your own life but the thought of me being alive while your dead makes me feel ill."

Your brain was far too tired to respond to his ramblings with words of your own, so you sleepily just gave a hum and let your heavy lids shut over your eyes.

"I'd be lying if I said the thought of us dying together tonight didn't crossing my mind, but I know Id only be tarnishing your death tonight by adding my own. You deserve to be found alone so you can be mourned and not found with my own body bringing in all the attention or gossip of why you're with a wanted man like me. People would think poorly of you if they thought you had anything to do with me." He moved to lie you down beside him as he sat up somewhat over your sleeping frame. "Besides I already plan on going out at the hands of someone else. He actually reminds me alot of my brother funnily enough. I wish you could have met him sometime, and maybe it would have helped you move on from Shini. Regardless it's too late for any of that, and I know he won't be the one to actually kill me in the end but it'll still be nice to see him one last time too before I go."

All was silent now that Mikey had quit rambling to your sleeping form. He sat there watching you sleep for what felt like a blissful eternity to him, a hand of his snaking up to caress your neck. His fingers traced up and down the front of your throat a few times, feeling the steady pulse beneath his touch.

He knew he had to do end this eventually. He'd have to wrap his hands around your delicate neck and squeeze at some point soon before all his resolve left him. He knew strangulation was a more personal ways of killing someone since he'd have to look you in the eyes as he did it and hold longer than he'd think so you'd actually pass away and not just pass out. You deserved something more personal and intimate than just a bullet to the head or heart, sure those would end you quick but they were to heartless in his opinion.

He took a deep breath, mustering all his resolve as his hands circled your neck and began to tighten his grasp till he knew you'd have no room for oxygen to move in and out. You're eyes had opened from the shock, though once you'd realized what was happening you'd shut them again. Mikey hoped from the flash of a smile on your lips that in the haze of these final moments of yours, you'd mistaken him for Shinichiro.

Once it was all said and done, he'd planted a peck on your lips then laid back down beside you. Holding your limp form for this final time as he let his own exhaustion take over him. Tomorrow morning he would get up, say a final goodbye to you before slipping unseen out of your place and anonymously report your death before heading off to his own place of death.

Tonight though he wanted to hold you till he was sure your soul had passed over to the afterlife and hopefully you'd tell his brother and sister that he too would see them soon.

[cherrys-writings]

Suits, Scones, and Serendipity

 A whistling teapot cut through my sleep; glancing at the time, I wondered who would be making tea at this hour before remembering that I live alone. Rubbing my eyes, I silently curse myself for giving him keys in the first place. The tea would take a few minutes to finish and I use that time to remember how to function, at 2:30am.  

The floor squeaks, announcing my entrance to the intruder in the kitchen. I wished I could capture this moment of him that so few are privileged to see: blond hair sticking up at all angles, rumpled pajama pants, plain t-shirt, and mismatched sock wearing Grayson Hawthorne. Late night visits were increasingly common in the past year. 

“Have a mug preference or is it dealer’s choice?” Grayson called

The moment was broken, “dealer’s choice,” I responded, leaning against the counter beside him. 

“You really should get a guard dog or something. You never know who may show up in the middle of the night,” he chided.

“And ruin such a pleasant surprise? Not a chance,” I kept to our odd routine greeting.

Grayson would come over when he wanted to get some space from everyone. Although Hawthorne House was massive, there seemed to be no room for anyone to breathe. I don’t remember exactly when these started, we had always spent time together during school. I guess working on projects together led to casual time at each other’s homes, which led to this. The air around him felt different tonight, like the night he told me about Emily. 

“It’s peppermint tea and honey,” Grayson stated as he handed me the mug. 

Glancing down I saw he picked the one with a cat that stated “you’re kinda paw-some.”

“I see you have a theme tonight,” I nodded toward his own black cat shaped mug. 

He chuckles, “well, it’s true. Not many people would be okay with someone showing up in their kitchen in the middle of the night.”

Knowing Grayson for as long as I have, beating around the bush is not something he enjoys doing. 

He is definitely upset about something big.

Wordlessly, he walks into the living room, I follow and take a spot beside him on the couch. This might be one of those times where he just needs to sit in silence with the presence of a friend; be reminded that he isn’t alone with whatever thoughts are swirling around his head. Grayson isn’t volatile or outwardly expressive when it comes to emotions. For whatever reason, he never showed his true feelings unless he seriously trusted someone and for whatever reason I was one of those people. 

“He’s dead,” Grayson whispered, “The old man, my grandfather, he’s dead.”

After everything Grayson has told me and my own experience with the man, I don’t know what to do. I know about all of the good times they had together and all of the bad. I want to tell him everything is going to be okay and that he can do whatever he needs to do to get through this time. I wanted to tell him that I would be around as often as he wanted, that he could stay here if he needed to, he could cry as hard as he needed, or yell, or break something. 

“Damn,” is what comes out instead.

Grayson exhaled, “sounds about right.”

Setting my tea on a table, I moved closer to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. Biting his lip, he laid one hand on top of mine and turned to face me. 

I wiped a tear as it escaped, “Grayson it’s al–”

“I don’t know what everyone is going to do. None of us were ready for this or knew that he was sick,” his voice hitched, “all the riddles and puzzles and none of us could figure out that he was dying. Sure he pushed us to be the best and put a lot of pressure on us, but maybe he thought he was doing the right thing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Grayson covered his tear streaked face with his hands gasping, “He should have said something to one of us, to me.”

I wrapped my arms around his shuddering form, “I don’t know why he never told anyone and I can’t tell you what you’re supposed to do now. The world isn’t going to stop spinning if you take time for yourself, Grayson.”

 He scoffed, “You know as well as I do th-”

 “Please do not start in on the ‘my family needs me’ speech, because you need to do whatever is going to help you get through all of this. Let everything out.”

Grayson turned, burrowed his head into my shoulder, and sighed as I laid back on the couch. His head on my chest, I played with his hair while humming and rubbing his back at every shuddering breath. Eventually, soft gasps slowed and the rigid muscles of his back somewhat relaxed.  

Pounding on the door woke me with a jolt. It took a moment to realise that I couldn’t get up because Grayson was still laying on me, deep asleep. I prayed whoever it was would give up and leave. It was unlikely that anyone had noticed Grayson’s absence yet, he was usually back before they knew he was gone. “You better have a good reason for not answering your phone, Grayson Hawthorne,” called Nash as he strode through the door. 

“Be quiet,” I hissed, “he’s sleeping.”

Nash smiled, “Here I thought my brother had turned into a robot.”

“Give him a break. You know the expectations Grayson sets for himself and we both know how some people can be during a crisis,” running my fingers through Grayson’s light hair, “let him have some time to wrap his mind around things first.”

“So he already told you the news? I will never understand how the two of you remained so close after everything.”

“We’re just good friends. Grayson came to me when he found out she was dating the both of them and when things got rocky. As much as it hurt to see what she was doing to them, I had to accept that all I could do was be there for him. There was nothing anyone could do or say to get them to see clearly.” I cleared my throat, “So, umm, how is Skye and everyone?”

“I’ve had some ‘good friends’ in my time too, missy,” said Nash, using dramatic air quotes. “Tell him I said to come home sometime today.” 

The door clicked gently, Nash was gone. Grayson’s arms tightened around me, I began smoothing his mess of light hair. How much sleep is he going to get the next few weeks?

[wolfiemcwolferson]

Reflections on Grief

When I was 13, my mom went through my email (something she learned about in her Women’s Bible Study group) and she found my emails with my “girlfriend”. I only use quotes here because we lived one hour away, saw each other a total of three times in public and neither of us identify as girl’s at this stage in our lives.

But, overnight I became her greatest fear. The devil. Someone who would ruin her other children and so it was determined that I would go away. 

She called my aunt, but determined that California was too dangerous for me when I had already strayed so far from God.

She found out about one of those camps - the ones in the mountains where we hike daily and live outside and have to earn our freedom or whatever and the only thing that kept me from being put on a plane was my grandparents refusal to give my parents the money for this.

So, I went to live with them instead.

I won’t bore you with what happened from there, but I found a love and acceptance with my grandparents that allowed me to become the person I am today because they taught me what love and devotion and kindness are.

Today, I sit in my house on a Wednesday night in March and I eat ice cream from a coffee mug.

Because when I lived with my grandparents, they went to play dominos with a group of friends on Wednesday nights and I got 20 dollars to order myself a pizza and then I watched a movie and ate ice cream out of a coffee mug.

And sometimes it is not enough to hold them in my mind. 

Sometimes I go and dig a tin of pipe tobacco from my sock drawer and open it up on my coffee table because it smells like love.

Sometimes I go to the store and I buy a jigsaw puzzle that I’ll never finish just to lay it across the table for two days because it was our rainy day activity.

Sometimes I hold a mug of hot tea between my hands and I remember how my grandmother looked me in the face at 14 while we sat on her back porch and told me that it didn’t matter who I was or what I did or where I went, she would love me until I was nothing more than a memory to the world. How she was the first person who ever said that to me. 

Because sometimes.

Sometimes, the grief bowls me over so suddenly that I’m clutching my kitchen sink and thinking about how I wasn’t there when my grandfather died. How he called out for my grandmother in the end and how I had to watch it through FaceTime.

Sometimes I write a series of words that are so starkly my grandmother that I have to close my laptop and sit down and think about the last conversation we had before she was unconscious - about how I wanted her to die at home.

Because I was selfish and thinking about how I wanted to stand in the kitchen in 20 years and make the rice pudding she taught me to make and I could tell myself that she was peaceful in the end - and at home. 

Sometimes I hear an Elvis song and I think about the bake sale she helped me with when she and I stayed up until 4 AM baking and singing and my grandfather drove 30 minutes in one direction to get us hamburgers at 1 AM because we were hungry.

And it doesn’t feel like enough to eat the ice cream or smell the pipe tobacco or play Elvis in the house when I bake or carry the name that i took from my grandfather.

But then I look across the living room to my own children who have been told from the time they took their first breath that I will be the one going to war for them and that nothing they ever do will make me love them less and I know that my grandmother’s words are living through me.

I get up at 4 AM to pack my partner a warm muffin for work and I think about the countless mornings my grandpa brought me a cup of coffee from the gas station because I like crappy burnt coffee with that overly sweet syrup that comes from that machine.

I cry sometimes when it starts to ache right under my ribs and I know that the best bits of me are the bits of them and that nothing i do will ever be completely devoid of their spirits, yet I still mourn.

Grief is an all-encompassing thing and it comes and goes at the strangest times and I am desperate for others to not feel alone in their grief.

Anyway, I say all of this because I started writing a silly little fic recently that was meant to scratch a fandom itch and it’s gotten away from me in a massive way and I am still writing it, I’m just taking it slow.

I’m being respectful of my grief and the desire to do right by the story and the characters and also to all of you who will someday read it and understand and feel what I’m saying through my words.

[crisalidaseason]

The blooms of our mind

Summary: Armin and Erwin's eldest daughter meet (part 2)

Read Part 1 here

Content warning: talks about a dead person, grief mentioned, anxiety (armin is an anxious boi).

“tell me, Armin” Nadi said from the other corridor of the small library “do you believe in sea monsters? Like the ones from the stories you told me”

Armin was helping Nadi organize some new books and documents that arrived recently, he was put on cataloging duties while she placed the books in their correct place. 

“I think it’s possible that large creatures exist, but also the travelers could have exaggerated a little. They did sail drunk for the most part” he answered. 

Armin heard her chuckle.

“Give the poor sailors some credit, we lived among giant creatures roaming on this island. Maybe a large and vengeful octopus is completely reasonable”

She went to the front desk again, where Armin was sitting, and picked up another pile of books.

“Do you want some fresh tea? Cora is probably brewing some, I can ask for two mugs”

“I’d rather not, she might poison my cup” Armin replied.

Cora was a very mean lady that cared for the building. Everytime Armin went to visit or help Nadi, the middle aged woman judged him silently as if he was very unwelcome there. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to pour the tea myself and spare you from the unnecessary healing”

With that, Nadi left the small library and Armin resumed cataloging the books. He smiled and shook his head, who would have thought that two months after their tea shop encounter he would be regularly visiting Nadi? He suspected that commander Hange was up to something, they were often sending Armin to the area for odd favors, but he was not complaining. As much as he enjoyed exchanging letters, the joy of seeing her in person would never be matched. 

“Two steaming mugs of lemongrass tea” Nadi appeared again.

Armin thanked her and took a sip of his tea. He used to drink lemongrass tea with his grandfather almost everyday, until his military years took this small indulgence from him. It was nice to share the sweet beverage with a good friend again, at least he liked to think they were already on this stage, even if they have known each other for a short time. Armin and Nadi connected fast, even sharing some personal information, which was far more than Armin ever achieved with someone in such a short frame of time. 

He had learned she was the oldest of two sisters, but didn’t live on the Smith’s family home anymore, choosing to stay close to her job as a librarian. In exchange, Armin told her about his friends and his military years, even a little bit of his routine with Hange and titan training. One thing they never discussed was her father. Armin was relieved but also anxious about that, he believed Nadi knew who he was and what happened that day. A small part of him wondered if she didn’t know anything, which was even scarier because their friendship would be ruined if Nadi ever found out. He decided that living with the anxiety was better than risk losing their companionship. 

“Armin” her voice brought him back “when you return to the headquarters, could you deliver a message to your commander?”

He nodded. She handed him a small envelope with her beautiful handwriting saying ‘to commander Hange Zoe’. He wondered what kind of message it was, maybe about the plans for the spears? 

“Are you curious?” she said, smirking “I know you are”

Armin blushed furiously and denied. Nadi chuckled.

“It’s just a formal document granting the Survey Corps the ownership of the thunder spear project sheets”

“Wait what?” he said “doesn’t it take away your credit on this?”

“Yes, but my…” she hesitated “my father once told me that it’s safer to never perpetuate my name on military weaponry”

Armin understood right away, considering her father was almost executed by the government once…it makes sense for Erwin to be cautious. Armin knew well how the higher ones loved to target families.

“Makes sense” he said “keeps you safe”

Her eyes were a little distant, and the frown on her brows gave up her sadness. 

“Armin, can I ask you a question?” she said, still not looking at him “you don’t need to answer if I make you uncomfortable”

He nodded.

“How…how was he?” she began “my father, how was he as a commander? Hange told me you worked close with him”

Armin sometimes thought he was very unlucky, Hange really had a problem with not holding their tongue sometimes. 

“He was very stoic, inspiring to many people, some would even call him charismatic. He listened to me when nobody would ever spare me seconds, but he also carried a weight on his shoulders”

“The weight of his decisions” she said, now looking at him “I’m glad he heard you, many lives were saved because of your thoughts”

He should be happy, she seemed to not blame him, but he never felt more miserable. How could she look at Armin and not scream that he’s the reason her father will never come back home?

“Look at the time!” Nadi stood up “let’s finish this, I don’t want you return late in the night”

They finished putting the books away and Armin left with the remaining sunlight still in the sky. He couldn’t forget Nadi’s distant and sad features when mentioning her father, he wanted to comfort her, tell her that Erwin was a good man and would be proud of his daughter. But Armin wasn’t sure he had the right to do it. 

He arrived later than usual on the headquarters, with heavy steps, noticing that Hange had already left the office so he decided to leave the message on the commander’s desk. Trying to sleep was not working, as usual, but he felt better remembering that he would see Nadi again in two days. He was holding the latest letter she sent him, his fingers tracing her handwriting, remembering all the times he would eagerly check his post office box. Mikasa was so curious whenever Armin asked to stop by to pick up his mail, constantly trying to peek at the envelope. He would eventually tell her, but he wanted Nadi to be something only he knew for a little while. 

The next two days were a blur, with Armin doing everything on autopilot to the point Hange noticed. 

“Armin, for the walls sake, are you half asleep today?” they said when he dropped the paperweight for the third time that morning.

“Sorry commander” 

“Take a break, boy, sleep seems to hate you these days” 

“Indeed, but I’ll push through” he said, sitting on the chair and closing his eyes for a moment.

He heard a chuckle from the commander. Oh no.

“So, how are dates with your girlfriend going?”

Armin opened his eyes and stupidly stuttered.

“She isn’t-I mean we-” he sighed “not dates, not girlfriend”

“HOHO” Hange threw their head back “you can’t even form sentences!”

Armin tried to hide his face with his hands. He should have expected that, knowing how Hnge poorly concealed the fact they plotted this whole situation. Deep down, Armin was thankful that Hange was a nosy person, especially with him and Levi, but he would never admit. 

The next time he went to see Nadi, he was actually off duty. Armin was panicking, Nadi had never seen him without uniform and picking civilian clothes opened up the gates of anxiety. What if she thinks he looks silly? Armin’s clothes resembled an old man’s: baggy linen shirt and thick fabric pants. He almost wanted to cancel his visit, but decided against it. He hoped she could see past his horrible sense of civilian fashion.

“Look at you! I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without uniform” she said as soon as Armin crossed the library’s door “blue looks wonderful on you”

“Ah, um, thanks” he half said, half choked. 

“I will be done with the last entries really soon and then we can head to the teashop”

They had planned to return to the same teashop, just to enjoy each other’s presence and talk without a task or Armin’s curfew to interrupt them. They took a small table on the outside area of the shop, it was a sunny but not overly warm day after all.

“What can I bring to the couple?” a sweet old lady asked them.

Armin’s brain just fried at that point. He was certain his face was extremely red, even his neck, if the heat was any indication. 

“I would love a cinnamon and cream bagel, and unsweetened green tea” Nadi asked, still smiling at Armin’s complete lack of words “would you like me to pick something for you, Armin?”

He nodded, not risking saying anything back. 

“He would enjoy a blackberry tea with one sugar cube and a plain rain bun”

The lady took their orders and left. Nadi turned to look at Armin again.

“Are you alright? I can change the order if you don’t-”

“It’s perfectly fine!” he said, a little too loud “I-um-I liked it”

She smiled again, trying to hide it with her hands. 

“You know, I don’t blame her, we do look like a couple now”

He suspected Nadi was trying to kill him with embarrassment.

“Does it make you uncomfortable? I can stop”

“No, no” he said “It’s just that I am a little too new with everything related to…to you”

“So am I” she said “but I think it’s perfect this way”

They were interrupted by the lady with their orders in hand. Once both were served, they paused to enjoy their tea. 

“You know, I was a little worried for a moment” Nadi commented “your face was so red that I genuinely believed you would faint”

He laughed.

“I do get red easily, but I never passed out before. Only when seriously injured”

They spoke occasionally, between sips of their teas and bites of their treats. Armin loved to see her laughing, her hand gestures loud and excited, her reactions to his stories and Hange’s shenanigans. Soon enough it was time for them to go, and Armin offered to accompany her home.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to stray you too much from your path” 

“Of course, I don’t mind at all” he said “besides, it gives us more time to talk”

“Indeed, I enjoy our conversations very much” she said.

He walked alongside her, making sure to keep her shielded from the road, the passing people and carriages. She lived in a small pension, only a few meters away from the library. It was a beautiful place, with a calm neighborhood.

“What a lovely place” he said.

“Yes, it is a little expensive, but also worth it when you want to sleep in on sundays”

“If I ever leave the military, I would definitely live in a place like this”

“Tell me when you leave, I can ask mister Silas for a room close to mine. I would pester you forever”

Armin laughed, shaking his head. He would enjoy it very much.

“I think this is where we say goodbye” Armin said “for now”

They were in front of her building, but Nadi turned to face him instead of going inside.

“You know, Armin” she started “I really enjoyed our day, in fact I like all of our days, even the ones we only speak through paper” 

She took his hand.

“I would never demand anything from you, but I hope you enjoy what we have as much as I do” 

“I do, genuinely” he said, already feeling his face warm.

She smiled again, but it was a wicked smile, as if she was planning a small evil action.

“Please, don’t faint” she whispered.

She got closer and her lips touched Armin’s left cheek, very softly.  

“Good night, Armin. Thank you again for today”

Armin was too stunned to speak, the place where she kissed him still tingling. He contemplated never washing his left cheek ever again. 

“Good night” he stuttered.

Nadi went to the door, but turned back to face him again.

“Send me a letter?”

Armin looked at her, heart almost jumping inside his ribcage.

“Definitely”

[basalamander-corner]

The Clock Ticks Backwards

Tok.

Tik.

Tok.

Tik.

Time ticks by slowly when you wait for something. Sometimes it feels like it goes backwards.

Victor stared at the door from his kitchen, a mug of black coffee in his dark hands. Maybe it was hopeless to sit there, watching his clock tick. It certainly wasn’t doing him any favors, not even the coffee was enough to keep him up.

He flicked his brown eyes at the grandfather clock next to his kitchen. Its face stared back at him, dooming him to eternal patience. 2:49am.

Tok.

Tik.

Tok.

Tik.

Pulling his sweater over his head to protect against the chill of winter, he downed the rest of his coffee. Against his will, he checked his clock again. 2:52. Tonight was a bust, too. Like last night. Like last week. He was almost starting to regret his words, to regret what he’d said, in the heat of the moment, his rival trembling beneath him with flushed cheeks.

“I can give you more than they can. They don’t appreciate your power. They don’t appreciate you.”

Cleaning his cup, clicking his tongue at the mess on his countertop, and staring at the clock once more, Victor frowned and silently chided himself. He didn’t need to stand here, pouting and feeling sorry for himself as though he was a lost dog. He was a villain, a criminal mastermind who held the whole city in the palm of his hand. Kings worshiped him, gods knelt at his feet. He wouldn’t stand here waiting for someone who would never come.

Tok.

Knock.

Right as he begun heading up to bed, the soft rapping of knuckles against his door had him frozen to the spot. Did he dare answer it, knowing who it could be? Or did he leave, not get his hopes up?

His curiosity got the best of him, and he aimlessly drifted to his door. His fingers brushed the doorknob, twisting it to the side and slowly cracking it open. There had been no shortages of attacks on Victor’s life, and he wasn’t about to let go of his safety now. He was half-hoping the person at his door was a mailperson, or even his mother for an errant visit.

He certainly didn’t believe he’d come face to face with Marquise Gilmore, better known as the land’s favorite hero: Phantom.

His black curls were thick with sweat, hanging heavily over his forehead and obscuring his eyes. He panted as though he’d just been in a fight, and various bruises marred his body. Black hands shook uncontrollably, and the rest of his body fidgeted. He wore a gray hoodie and beige sweatpants, like he’d just gotten out of bed and thrown on the first thing he could find.

Wordlessly, Victor opened the door wider and took a step back, welcoming Marquise into his house. Dark brown eyes stared at him in bewilderment, but the hero stepped over the threshold. Victor was not oblivious to the full-body flinch that rippled through Marquise’s body as he closed the door, and silently, he relished it.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” Victor said, keeping his voice cool and in control. Marquise—as sickeningly adorable as he was—stared up at the taller man. His throat bobbed once, then twice, and Victor continued to speak. “I never thought the great Phantom would stand here in my house. Surely you’re not here for another fight, darling? I don’t want my fine china ruined.”

Marquise’s eyes darted across the room, looking for an escape or something else. His hands twitched and he shook his head, carefully avoiding Victor’s gaze. “I… you were right,” he managed to squeak out.

Victor languidly raised an eyebrow, squashing down the excitement that bubbled in his chest. Calm yourself, you daft fool.

Bringing himself back into the moment, he bit out, “Oh? Do tell me, dear. I’m right about a lot of things, you’ll have to be more specific.”

Marquise gave him a look of intense loathing, and Victor just smirked. He certainly wouldn’t make it easy for his rival of four years.

“The organization,” the hero mumbled, dragging his foot across the floor tile. His throat bobbed again, and oh how desperately Victor wanted to take his teeth to that spot and–

Composure!

“They wanted… me. My powers. Not…” Marquise seemed to grow frantic, his voice pitching higher as he spoke. “They have my sister. Grace. You’ve met her before I–” he flexed his hands as if he would turn into his ghost form, but reeled himself in. “Please help me.”

And to the Victor, goes the spoils.

But rather than move directly, Victor took his damn time examining his rival. The bruises. The scars. The tear-stains on his cheeks. Obviously everything in him was crying out to help this desperate hero before him. To gather all of his energy and forces to tear down the organization that would dare bring Phantom to his knees.

Well, not everything. There was a tiny part that wished for something else. And eventually, that tiny part of Victor won over.

“You want my help?” He drawled, making a show of looking bored. Marquise started to squirm like an insignificant worm. “Now why ever would I do that? I help you take down the Organization, and then no doubt you turn me into them. I don’t have any plans on getting captured, darling.”

“I-I know you don’t trust me!” Marquise blurted, almost jerking forward. “You have every right not to. But you… you told me! You were right and I was stupid and I… I don’t know who else to go to. What can I do? How can I get you to trust me?”

Oh, Victor knew exactly what he wanted.

Grandly sweeping forward, Victor rested a hand on Marquise’s chin and pulled him upright, forcing those deep pools of umber to stare at him directly. It didn’t take a god to know Marquise was being honest. He wore all of his emotions on his sleeve, like an open book. But Victor wasn’t about to let him know that. Not when he was so close to his, well, victory.

“You want me to trust you?” He purred, letting Marquise squirm beneath him. “Then you’ll beg. You’ll use that gods-given silvery tongue of yours and beg, and it will be deliciously convincing.”

For the briefest of moments, Victor believed Marquise wouldn’t do it. That the chosen hero would wordless walk out the door and never look back. That he would go fight the Organization himself.

He was pleasantly surprised as Marquise slid to his knees, bangs fluttering as he lowered his head. Whatever happened between the two in the past now was brought to its climax, and Victor stared down at his prize.

Finally.

What he’d always wanted.

[rinzsu]

# THE STUDY GETAWAY - isagi yoichi

your doting boyfriend thinks it’s time for a coffee date.. at midnight.

You can't exactly recall when the chestnut wooden tiles of your bedroom floor turned into wet cement, yellowish streetlights reflecting on the pavement in a subtle, glossy glimmer.

Or when the reverberating ticks and tocks of the great grandfather-clock on the wall by your desk transitioned into the soft pitter-patter of early morning april-sereine, the intoxicating sandalwood scent and flickering brilliance of the candle by your bedside replaced by the petrichor smell of midnight deluge, the lingering redolence of caffeine and the milky gleam of tonights crescent.

There's a catch to it tough. For no matter how many scenery changes your environment must endure, it won't take away that unsettling feeling rooted deeply within your gut. It's discomposing, the absence of your ball pen weighing down upon your palm, soar Fingers twitching around the coffee cup clutched in your hand, like they're itching to grasp it's cool, shimmering metal texture instead of the paper grain of your partially emptied mug.

The need to repeat certain steps of variating formulas until flawless magnificence gnaws at your very core as you take shaky steps through the deserted streets of your hometown.

You feel the brush of Isagi's shoulder against your own, followed by a shallow breath before he gently grasps your palm, softly interlacing your fingers with his own.

"Look up. ", he mutters, and you do, catching the radiance of the moons luminosity in his azure orbs as he grins your way. "Not at me. At the sky", he chuckles.

You comply, absentmindedly glimpsing into the inky night sky as the stars twinkle like dousens of tiny pin drops spilled into the midnight sea.

"See the stars? Tonight's constellations might as well look a little different from yesterday’s, but they're the same stars nonetheless.”, he chuckles before he continues.

“What I mean is, failing that exam won't ruin your life. And to be honest, you flocking in that class is nearly impossible now.”

“My point is, that you've definitely did everything you could, but don't let your fear to fail get the best of you. Gosh you're so smart as is, so stop worrying about something so trivial like the midterm exams, which, by the way, are still two weeks away. You'll do great."

You smile at him, before turning your gaze down towards your feet, busying yourself by counting the crossovers of your shoelaces in order to dismiss your gradually increasing heartbeat.

“Thanks Yoichi. I guess I really needed this right now. "you chuckle, gesturing to him as you raise the cup to take another sip.

"But you got something wrong just now." you continue, snickering to yourself as you add, "it's not the constellations that change, but the earths position within the Milky Way, hence why our night sky changes with every passing day.”

His ears flush ever so slightly as you comment on his lacking diligence during Mr. Parks Astronomie class.

You smile at him, appreciating the subtle warmth provided by his cheesy words and frivolous comparisons.

It's silly, how easily his mere presence shuns all your worries away, his hand replacing the weight of your long forgotten ball pen as his carefree chuckles echoe through the streets.

© rinzsu 2024. plagiarism, translation and distribution of my works out- and inside of tumblr is not permitted.

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[dorthyanndrarry]

Whatever You Want, Draco Malfoy -33-

Tags: alcohol use, marijuana use, cigarettes, smoking, reckless behaviour, lack of self preservation, anxiety issues, chronic illness, deportation, racism, the fucking Tories, ptsd, super unhealthy coping mechanisms, Down and out Draco who’s friends with muggles, various OC’s, enemies to lovers, angst, mentions of throwing up/vomit, mentions of suicide, mentions of panic attacks, swearing

suggested rating: Mature

Part 1 (contains links to all parts) <- Part 32 || Part 34 ->

-

Chapter Sixteen

Luckily, Draco remembered where the group meeting room was in St Mungo’s because he was definitely, certainly late by the time he arrived. He did his best to hide his wince as he stepped into the room and everyone turned to look at him.

“Hello, Draco!” Iris said brightly.

Jarold looked annoyed.

Jasmine laughed, “Took your time, didn’t you?”

“Sorry, I’m late,” Draco said. He gave Jasmine a brief glare and sat down in the empty chair between Emad and Jarold.

“We were just about to get started,” Iris said. “I made coffee if you want some.”

The glass carafe of the muggle coffee maker was half full of liquid so dark it looked black. Iris and Jarold were the only ones holding green plastic mugs; Iris had drunk some of hers; Jarold’s mug was untouched.

“I’m more of a...” Draco thought quickly, “Milk and sugar with a little bit of coffee than a coffee with a bit of milk and sugar, sort of person.”

Iris sighed dramatically, “Oh, you’re one of those sorts. Sometime I will introduce you to a really good cup of coffee. Then you’ll know what you’re missing.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “Ah. So you’re one of those coffee people.”

Iris gave him a glare that held absolutely no venom.

“I’ll take a coke, personally. Or an energy drink,” Jasmine said.

“Does it do anything?” Draco asked.

Jasmine snorted, “They’re the only reason I’m not half-asleep right now.”

“How are you sleeping now, Jasmine?” Iris asked.

Jasmine slouched down in her chair, “I do it sometimes.”

“That sounds like an improvement. You were struggling to get any sleep after your detox, weren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jasmine said, “But it’s not the same.”

“Sleep is sleep, init?” Jarold said.

“No,” Jasmine said.

Jarold made a confused face.

Jasmine sighed hugely like Jarold was an idiot for even asking, “I’m not talking about sleep-sleep. It’s like… you know, when you just wake up and you just lay in bed, kind of asleep and not asleep at the same time? And your head just feels so...” She spread her hands, fingers grasping after the words that never came, “...good.”

“I get a headache if I sleep too long,” Emad said.

“That’s where the potions came in-”

“Jasmine, let’s not,” Iris said.

“What? Are you afraid I’ll rub off on them?” Jasmine asked.

“I’d rather you didn’t glorify your addiction. It may have provided you relief to the pain you were feeling, but it was temporary and fleeting, and none of it would have helped you in the long run,” Iris said.

“No kidding,” Jasmine said flatly, “I think the self-induced potion coma was a bit of a clue.”

“I almost got kicked off the team,” Jarold said.

Emad nodded silently.

Draco didn’t say anything. And his silence seemed to pull everyone’s gaze.

“What?” Draco asked.

“Didn’t drinking ruin your life?” Jasmine asked.

Draco shrugged, “It wasn’t that bad.”

Jasmine glared at him.

“It wasn’t that great either, I suppose,” Draco said, trying to put some effort in so they would stop looking at him like that, “I slept around, stayed in absolute piss hole flats. I- I couldn’t get a job, much less hold one down.”

“So where’d the money come from?” Jarold asked, “For the booze and flat and stuff?”

“He’s a Malfoy,” Jasmine said.

“Since you apparently weren’t paying attention, all my parent’s assets were seized in restitution for their crimes,” Draco said coolly. “I had some money set aside in a personal vault and a trust from grandfather; most of which went to buying my mother a small cottage by the sea.”

He leaned back hard against his chair, making the metal creak, “Not that I would have stayed in the Manor even if we still had it.”

Jarold blinked, his brow furrowing, “What were you gonna do when your money ran out?”

Draco shrugged.

“He’d get a job,” Jasmine said, “If he had to, he’d work.”

“How? I don’t have my NEWTs, and even if I did, I doubt I could get work outside Knockturn alley. And I look like I dropped out of muggle school before getting my A-levels-”

“But you could get a job,” Jasmine said, “Might be shite, but there’s always something.”

Draco rolled his eyes dramatically. It wasn’t anything he had ever planned for or thought about. The future wasn’t something he wanted to think about because he didn’t have one. Living day to day was just about all he could manage.

“Do you have a job, then?” Draco asked Jasmine.

“It’s a bit tricky to hold down a job when you’re sleeping twenty hours a day,” Jasmine said.

“You aren’t now, are you?” Draco said, “So you could get a job.”

Jasmine threw her hair back behind her shoulder, “Oh, shut up.”

“I see, so you can be a bitch about it, but I can’t?” Draco said. “That seems fair.”

“I don’t get any of this,” Jarold said.

“Of course, you don’t; your job is your fucking addiction,” Jasmine snapped.

Jarold blinked, “What? Nah, I was takin’ potions I shouldn’t have to get onto the main team-”

“Because you’re obsessed with quidditch!” Jasmine said. She looked at Iris, “I’m right, aren’t I? He’s so wrapped up in that stupid sport that he nearly fucked his whole life!”

“Hey-!” Jarold said.

“It’s all you talk about,” Jasmine said, “Your dad loved quidditch and taught you how to play. You listened to all the games, watched them, only cared about the war in that it was over before your try-outs. And I bet all your mates were all on your team in school. I bet it’s the same now.” She finished a bit breathlessly but looked extremely pleased with herself.

“Fuck off, you don’t know shite,” Jarold snapped.

“Am I wrong then?” Jasmine challenged. “Tell me what I was wrong about.”

“I- I have other friends, from school, in my old house,” Jarold said, looking put out by his own struggle to refute her.

“Would they have been your friends if you weren’t on the house team?” Jasmine asked.

Jarold response to the question was a strange sound in the back of his throat, like a choked growl. His whole face was broiled red, and Draco guessed he was holding onto his temper by a thread.

Draco looked across the circle to see Iris’ reaction, hoping she would stop this argument before it got any worse. She was smiling faintly, watching the back and forth, apparently unaffected by the rising tension.

Draco was very affected.

“Do you have a job, Emad?” Draco asked abruptly.

Emad blinked in surprise, answering slowly, “I stock the shelves in my parents shop at night.”

“I helped one of my friends, Samuel, cover a few of his shifts washing dishes. It was under the table, but it was the first job I’d ever done,” Draco said.

“I had a job washing dishes before we moved to England,” Emad said, “It’s very tiring.”

“I was exhausted, but I thought it might have been because I was trying to stay vaguely sober,” Draco said.

Emad smiled faintly, “And what’s ‘vaguely sober’ mean?”

“Drinking just enough to stave off withdrawal symptoms but not enough to get tipsy,” Draco said.

“Sounds… tricky,” Emad said.

Draco nodded, “I erred on the side of caution and kept giving myself the shakes.”

“Not the other way around?” Jasmine asked.

Draco glanced over at her, contriving to look surprised at her interest, though he was mostly just relieved to have shifted the mood. “The other way around?”

“I- Well- You know what I mean,” Jasmine said.

“Do I?” Draco said casually.

Jasmine pursed her lips, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“So you didn’t mean that I’m the sort of person who would put my own comfort ahead of my friend’s job? That he needed. That was very important to him?” Draco said.

“No, I just… I meant that addiction can be a powerful thing. We all know that,” Jasmine said.

“Sure we do,” Draco said sarcastically.

“Emad isn’t an addict.”

Draco and Jasmine looked at Jarold.

“Well, he isn’t,” Jarold said.

Iris snorted a laugh.

“How is that funny?” Jasmine asked, sounding sour.

Iris smiled, “I more appreciate the fact that you were trying not to hurt Draco.”

Jasmine frowned.

“She didn’t do a very good job of it,” Draco said.

“Maybe not,” Iris laughed. “But she tried.”

Jasmine glowered at her.

“We all have to start somewhere,” Iris said.

(continued in next part)

-

💜 Next update will be between tues and thurs pst 💜 I don’t talk much about myself, mostly because I think my life is pretty boring, but for the next 8-12 months posting may be more erratic than usual. It’s nothing bad, I’m just very busy with a bunch of stuff, a big family project, getting ready for and then moving for the first time in ten years, job changes, ect. SO rather than apologising every other week, I figured I’d just explain that things are going to be wonky for a while and I hope that y’all will stick with me 💜thank you!💜

Tags below v (I don’t have a permanent tags list. All tags are of the wonderful people who left messages or reblogs on the previous 2 parts.)

💜 @justafangirlslikes thank you!

💜 @adventurouschase thank you!!!!!!!!!! I will hopefully keep writing forever! I don’t think I’ve ever read a script before, I’ll have to check that out 💜

💜 @pain-changes-everything thank you so much!! Draco needs more confidence 💜 💜

💜 @idareyoutotakealook thank you! Hope you enjoy the Iris time 💜 💜

💜 @melcarrianna  💜v💜 thank you!

💜 @shadowybook 💜 😍😍thank you so much!!!! 💜 

💜 @undercoverwarlock thank you! it’s fun seeing everything entirely from draco’s friends pov, they are very anti Harry potter 💜

💜 @languedor71 Elle is a dear, she’s fought hard for everything she has in life and she absolutely doesn’t take shit from anyone 💜 💜thank you!!! 💜

💜 @addicted-to-w0rds thank you!

💜 @dracodragon19872 so many feeeelings! 💜thank you!! 💜

💜 @devilrising I’m glad you have some down time now! and thank you so much! It’s less that I’m stressed about posting on time and more that if I don’t give myself a hard deadline my adhd kicks off and I forget to write at all lol😅

💜  @dewitty1  not as late as me!!😅😆 thank you so much! attraction is dumb, and makes it stupid boys think having a smooch is a good idea 💜 💜 💜 btw I started watching downtown abby after seeing how much you like it and it’s fricken great! I binged the first couple seasons but I’m trying to savour the last season and a half so I’m only watching one a week 💜

💜 @chosenpotter thank you! 💜

💜 @kaosuiinku 😍thank you!!!! our little draco is healing slowly but surely even if he’s not fully aware of it 💜

💜 @hmmihaventdecidedyet  💜 @chamomileteafuel  💜

💜 @cloack  💜 @iamactuallya-cat  💜 @whenrainbowsend  💜 @havingaverydrarryday  💜 @lilyinthebreeze  💜 @peaceinambiguity  💜

[mintmatcha]

ukai keishin - grumpy

amy!!!! ty so much for the request- i really admire your writing and i hope you like this!!!]

Summary: just a snapshot of your relationship with keishin

Contains: NFSW, 18+, no reader pronouns, reader has a vagina, new relationship/established relationship, soft smut, slight mention of relationship issues.

ukai x reader

word count: 4k

cross posted: ao3

The woody vine digs into the pad of your thumb as you pluck another pepper. The repetition has dug a noticeable indentation into the skin, one that makes you wince every time you harvest a vegetable. In the low light of pre-dawn, sun still tucked behind the mountains, you can't see the bruising on your fingers, but you can feel how it pulses. Popping the digit into your mouth, the warmth of your tongue is automatically soothing, so much so that you can ignore the soft taste of soil on your skin.

“I told you to bring gloves.” Keishin chides, barely looking up at you. He’s squatted a couple feet away, elbows resting on his thighs as he works. The rubber boots, with his oversized overalls crammed into the top, squeak every time he shifts. Pick, squeak, pick, squeak. You open your mouth to tease him, but the way his eyes meet yours, steeled and firm, tell you he’s not in the mood. Cinching his teeth around the worn leather, he pulls his hand from the glove and leaves it dangling from his mouth, lips curled to avoid touching the dust directly. Even in his goofy attire, there’s something about his focus- the downward cast of his eyes, the hint of his canine over the leather, the steadiness of his hands- that makes your heart flutter. Wordlessly, he takes the glove out of his mouth and tosses it your way. You catch it with a fumble.

“Are you sure?” you ask as you pull it on. The tips of the glove gap above your fingertips, bending outward as you clench your fist.  “What about you?”

He shrugs and returns to work. Even in the darkness you can see his scowl. “I guess I’m not as delicate as you.”

You didn’t blame him. He doesn’t mean to be this… grumpy. This was the worst time of year for Keishin; harvest season overlapped with volleyball preliminaries. The late nights he had been pulling with the team after work on top of these early mornings at his family’s farm had to be draining. It was no wonder that date nights had become nearly nonexistent. It didn’t help that your work schedule often led to you working on the weekends, meaning that between the two of you there were no free days. Sleepovers are far and few between; both of you still live at home and, despite the fact you are both well into your twenties, your parents weren’t too keen on your sleeping next to someone while unwed. No free days, no free nights.

Again, you didn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he was trying to avoid you, three jobs was a lot for anyone. It was hard to ignore your concern for his well-being, but he was always quick to dismiss your worries. ‘I’m an adult.’ he always insisted. ‘I can balance myself.’ 

Was it selfish to miss him? Was it selfish to wish there was an extra hour in his day for you? 

“You didn’t have to come.” Ukai says, matter-of-fact. “You should be sleeping right now.” 

“I want to be here.” you insist. It’s almost a lie. Do you really want to be here, squatting in the dirt, picking vegetables at 5:30am? Of course not, but you wanted to be here for him. With him. 

The metal thermos at your feet wobbles as you adjust, the deep squat you’ve been sitting in starting to ache deep in your thighs. Dropping forward onto your knees, the gravel of the path digging into your kneecaps, you wrap your hands around the metal, pressing it against your chest to feel the ambient warmth. The blonde doesn’t turn from his work, but he does tilt his head towards you, a small sign of his attention.

“You gonna hold it or drink it?’ 

You huff before taking a delicate sip, trying to avoid burning your lips. “I’m savoring it, ‘Shin.”

“ ‘Savoring it.’ ” he repeats. The grit of sleep still clings to his voice. He sounds weathered, tired. “Are you gonna let me ‘savor’ some of that?”

“Maybe.” you take another sip before placing the cup back down, this time closer to him, a silent invitation. It’s like trying to feed a stray cat, luring him in with the promise of something tasty. “If you’re good.”

A long moment passes and he doesn’t move, he just studies you. There may have been a flicker of a smile, a hint of a good mood hiding underneath the surface, but it's gone before you can process it.

“You know.” he says, “I don’t know how you do it.” he continues working with bare hands and, even without protection, he works so much faster than you. You can tell he’s been doing this for years; every twist of his wrist seems practiced. It’s something you try and emulate each time you’re here with him, but it only slows you down more. 

“Do what?”

Keishin finally stops. He chews his cheek for a moment, eyes flickering across your features. He opens his mouth, then shuts it with a sigh as he weakly gestures to the thermos at your feet. “The coffee. How do you make the coffee?”

You can’t help but sigh as you fall back onto your seat. You cross your legs as you grab the thermos, taking a deep pull. Again, you savor it with a hum and Keishin snorts at your antics. He picks from the row of plants once more before standing. Hands on the back of his pelvis, he stretches slowly, popping his back with the same care an old man would. It reminds you of his grandfather, but you keep that remark to yourself. 

“ ‘Shin, you make yourself coffee every day- probably the same way I do.” you say as he plops himself next to you. The cup is already waiting for him when he reaches for it.

“But yours is always better.” he doesn’t say it with the sweetness of a compliment- he says it like a fact. It shouldn’t make you smile this wide, but it does. He blows over the lid of the mug, watching the steam twist into the air for a moment before taking a drink. It was your coffee, but  you had made it for him- just a splash of cream, a crazy amount of sugar: just the way he likes it.  The crinkle at the corner of his eye as drinks tells you that he notices. 

“Are you savoring it?” you ask. He just closes his eyes and sighs.

"I guess I am."

Even without looking, his pinky finds yours, looping together gently. It's the gloveless hand, finding yours. Bare skin against bare skin, warmth against warm. Your body prickles with warmth as he squeezes; something about him pulling you closer, even if it’s just a finger’s width closer, makes your heart jump.  It’s funny how the smallest gesture makes you melt. Keishin didn’t always have a lot to give you; your relationship was a collection of these small moments together, settled between his jobs and yours, but it was enough. 

Every moment together is restorative.

“Cinnamon.” you press a kiss into his shoulder as you snag your cup back. He peeks at you through one open eye,  “I put cinnamon in the coffee.”

Keishin leans into you, resting his head against your shoulder. He nuzzles into your sleeve, drawing in a deep breath, before pulling away to sit up straight again. Reaching back into the row of plants before you, he plucks one carefully before dropping it into the bucket. “Nah, that’s not it.”

You blink. “Uh, yeah. It is.”

“Nah. It’s because it’s made with love.” he smirks.

You pretend to think for a moment. "Actually, I didn't make this cup with love- so you're wrong."

He rolls his head back to watch you. "Oh yeah?"

"I made it with hate." 

"Really." he tilts his body, chest pressed against your shoulder.

"You didn’t taste my loathing?" you tease.

The tip of his nose grazes your ear, nudging you softly. His breath warms the side of your face, lips just a moment from your skin. He’s patient, waiting for you to come to him. You try and resist for just a moment, but he nudges you with a huff. 

You can’t help but crumble.

 There’s a hint of a chuckle as you finally turn to meet his lips. The kiss is off center, connecting at the corner of your mouth. You try to pull back to correct it when a leathered hand grips on to your jaw and he holds your face steady, squishing your lips with sheer force. Ukai doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, his tongue swiping your lower lip before dipping into your mouth. He tastes like coffee and cinnamon, sweet and bitter. With every movement, he savors you, pulling you deeper and deeper until the both of you are twisted into each other's embrace. 

When he pulls away, it’s too soon. It’s not until he’s panting against you that you realize your own lungs are burning for air, almost as if your hunger for him had outweighed your need to breathe.

He hums thoughtfully. “I dunno, tastes like love to me.”

You roll your eyes, trying to bite back your smirk as you lean in for another kiss. “God, you’re the worst, Shin.”

This time, he doesn’t connect. Instead, he pulls away, mouth downturned once again as he stares back into the sea of green. It’s an unfocused stare, focused more on his thoughts than his surroundings. 

“Yeah, I kinda am, aren’t I?”

“Hey, what-” you struggle with what to say. “Don’t be like that.”

“I mean, it’s true.” he shrugs. “This is our first date in, what? 3 weeks? And we’re working on my fucking grandpa’s-”

Your elbow cracks against the soft of his ribs, a bit harder than necessary. He wheezes slightly as you knock the air out of him. “Negativity be gone.”

He whines a bit too dramatically. “Oh my god, what’s wrong with you? Did you learn that from Sugawara? I’m never letting you watch a game ever again.”

It’s hard to hold back your smirk. “I mean- it worked! I’m not going to let you ruin the moment with your nega-!”

“Shut up for a second!” he says and this time he’s the one throwing an elbow. “I’m trying to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend!”

“You shut up!” you mirror him, but he’s ready this time. His response is quick, catching your arms against his. You two continue, poking back and forth roughly, laughter bubbling up. “You don’t need to apologize for being busy!”

“Well, I’m going to.” he grabs the edge of your shirt, leaning into you once again. “Come here and accept it.”

The gravel shifts under your feet as you scramble to stand, pulling out of his grasp. He watches you in confusion as you back away, but his look quickly transforms into something playfully predatory. The shift is wordless, but both of you understand the game that’s about to unfold. 

“Come. Here.”

“No way.”

You turn on your heel and run. Keishin’s quick, grunting with effort as he throws himself forward. The sound of his shoes, squeaking against the rock, is faster than you anticipate and you have to force your legs to pump quicker. The  cool morning air burns your throat as you barrel down the row, the dew covered leaves brushing against your arms and leaving wet stripes. Something about the simple act of moving dissolves all your tension, all your worries. 

You turn your head to check in on your pursuer. Keishin is behind you, running with just as much force as you, but he’s grinning ear to ear with breathless laugh. It’s not his usual mischievous grin, but a soft one. A relaxed one. His baseball cap is halfway off of his head, caught by the wind, but he doesn’t reach to save it. He’s too busy reaching for you.

Everything is quiet except the two of you, laughing breathlessly as you chase each other like children. The sun has just started to crest the mountains, illuminating the sky with a blur of pastels. The pink of the sky reflects in his hair, catching in the glint of his eye as his gaze meets yours, and something in your brain tells you that you’ll remember this exact moment for the rest of your life.  You want the moment to freeze, to stay  in this childish bliss forever-

-but, of course, it doesn’t.

The rubber toe of Keishin’s boot catches a rock, sending him tumbling forward into a slow fall. He stumbles, catching himself for a moment before falling onto his knees, then his face. With a wince, he rolls on to his back, arms and legs spread eagle in defeat. Oversized pants, chunky boots, a stupid baseball cap: he looked more like an exhausted toddler than an adult. You slow to a jog, trying to pretend his fall wasn’t absolutely hilarious, but your stomach is clenching with the repressed laughter. Backtracking, you join his crumbled form.

“You okay?” you’re panting much harder than you should be. God,  shouldn’t the smoker be less athletic? 

“No, I think I’m really hurt.” 

“Where? Your knees?” you drop to your knees immediately and reach for him, taking his hands in yours. The palm of his non gloved hand is scraped, but there’s no sign of blood. 

“My ego.” he groans, “I think I bruised it.”

You  let out something that isn’t quite a sigh or a groan. “You jerk.” you lean down and place a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over where it crinkles when he smiles. “You had me worried for a second.”

He cranes forward to press his lips against yours, but only going as far as to brush his lips against yours. Every movement of your lips is a ghost against his, each breath more present than the feeling of skin. Each kiss is just a tease, barely a taste, and it makes you feel hungry. His hand circles your waist before drawing a line up your spine and your hunger deepens, burning deep into your core.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been around lately.” he says against your skin, hand guiding you closer to him. You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. It should feel silly, to be laying in the dirt, in the middle of the field, but there’s something so natural about being with him that makes you forget about your surroundings. There’s something natural and unadulterated about being quiet with each other.

“It won’t be like this forever, I promise.” he’s the first to break the silence. “One day, we’ll see each other every day. Just- be patient with me.”

You kiss his shoulder. “You’re worth the wait.” you place another one a few inches upwards. “I miss you, but you’ll always be worth the wait.”

Ukai rolls, throwing a knee over your hips to loom over you. His bangs tickle your forehead as he kisses you. It’s short. “I miss you.”

He places another peck on your lips. “Every day.”

Another kiss catches you off guard. “Every night.” 

Another one. This one is long enough for you to kiss back. “Constantly. I miss you constantly.”

You hook a leg over his ass, fingers starting to fiddle with the buttons holding his overalls up. “Prove it.”

He hesitates. Tilting his head up, he holds his breath as he scans the row, searching for any signs of movement in the distance. Until now, you had forgotten that other people even exist. The air is still, only the distant sound of crows cutting through the silence. His muscles relax against you after a moment, gaze returning to study your features. 

“I missed you.” he leans in and breathes into the shell of your ear before sinking his canines into the lobe. The sharpness sends you keening in surprise, pressing yourself farther into him. He takes the opportunity to tuck his arm under the arch of your back, using the angle to hold your hips against his, his forming bulge pressed right against your core. Your hands are still twiddling with the clasp on his overalls, your proximity to him making the simple task much harder than it should be. Every one of his movements is pulling you into him, like he can’t get you close enough to be satisfied. He sucks on the soft on your neck finishing the hickey off with a bite.

“Why’d you wear these stupid, ugly pants?” you huff as you finally free a button. Ukai breaks away from your neck to laugh before tracing his tongue across the bruise. The warmth surprises you and you can’t stop the whine that escapes you. 

“Fuck off.” his free hand easily unclinches your pants before shoving them down. The denim digs into the plush of your thighs as he struggles to place himself between your legs. The ground is cold and coarse against your bare skin, but you can’t focus on anything other than the heat of his breath trailing down your neck.

“Fuck- I missed you.” he repeats as you finally unclasp his overalls and slide them down. They hang off his hips, just low enough for his erection to hang over the fabric, his dooling cockhead resting against your stomach. Firmly, he taps his cock against you with a soft thwack, watching the translucent strings of precum connecting you stretch and break. It dribbles on the hem of your shirt and you want to admonish him for it, but when your eyes meet, his blown out pupils take your words away. The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. All you can do is kick down a pant leg, freeing your leg and allowing it to fall farther open for him.

Keishin slides further down you, greedily dragging the spongy head of his cock through your folds, gathering your slick. Each pass across your clit makes you twitch, thighs squeezing around his hips.  With a wolfish grin, he splits your cunt with his free hand and whistles at the sight. 

“I missed this pretty little pussy.” he pressed forward unceremoniously and the head of his cock squeezes into you with a pop. The stretch aches, but something deeper in you is burning for more. “Fuck, look how wet you are… “

He’s quick to bottom out, slamming his hips into yours as if he can’t hold back any longer. His eyes are struggling to stay open as he rolls his hips against you faster, struggling to continue watching your poor pussy struggle to take him. The weeks without him have left you desperate, hips uncontrollably bucking against his. The rhythm is off, your bodies struggling to keep up with each other and just ending up slamming against each other unevenly. It’s wild,  it leaves you breathless but your approaching high is so painfully close, neither of you can slow down to gather yourselves.

“You’re so good, fuck, so tight…” his head lolls forward, eyes fluttering closed, “You… so good… so hot… fuck, I missed you.”

Your hands wander up the front of his shirt, nails scraping against his chest. “Ple-ase, Keishin.” you beg, too breathless to say anything else. The sound of your voice makes him crumple over with a whine, fingers digging painfully hard into the fat of your hips as he struggles to pull you impossibly close. His cock twitches, spilling pulse after pulse of hot cum deep inside you. 

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit.” he murmurs, hips dragging out of you slowly. The movement makes you feel sloppy, the mixture of his cum and yours spilling down the crack of your ass. The sheer lewdness of it makes your core clench with desire, but the fading heat in your core makes you feel borderline nauseous. 

As you begin to untangle yourself, trying to hide your disappointment, he pulls you back in.

“Don’t.” he whispers into your chest. “I’m not- I’m not done with you.”

Ukai’s headband has slipped backwards, barely hanging on to the back of his head. The mess of blonde, half of it plastered to his forehead, tickles your cheek as he kisses your cheek. The edge of desperation is gone, replaced with something gentler, as he rolls back into you. Every bit of friction has been replaced with the slick, warmness of his cum. 

“I wanna wake up next to you every day.” Something about cumming has made him sappy. His hand dips low to circle your clit, tracing those practiced patterns you love so much. This time, instead of a fast, dangerous rise, the heat inside you pours slowly, like magma flowing through your core. 

“I’m going to buy you a big ol’ house.” he mumbles into your chest, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “And a pretty little ring. And -oh fuck you feel so good-  and, and you’re never gonna miss me again.” 

God, the term making love is corny, so impossibly cringey, but as he whispers those promises into your skin, you understand it. It’s more about the need to feel closer, the need to hold and be held. It’s three weeks of emotions that neither of you can vocalize.

Fuck, you feel so full. Physically, emotionally. Every caress is tender, delicate and appreciative. Your thumbs trace over his crow’s feet and for the umpteeth time this morning, you savor the moment. 

“I wanna be with you forever.”

Everything feels in focus- the friction of his jeans against your knees, the fabric clinging to your stomach, prickled with sweat, the ministrations of your lover’s lips against your skin as he whispers sweet nothings into you- but everything fades as you cum. Your orgasm hits slowly; you don’t even know you’re there until your legs are kicking out uncontrollably. Fingers tangled in the cotton of his shirt, you keen one last time. In the blur, you’re faintly aware of him joining you, his words dissolving into whines.

It takes a heartbeat for everything to still again. Keishin tilts his head up, studying you for a moment before speaking. 

“‘M so tired.” he essentially collapses on you, knocking the air out of your lungs. The lay he goes immediately slack in your arms would have been cute if whte weight of his body wasn’t pressing our bare skin into the gravel under you.  “I’m gonna nap.”

After quickly ruffling his hair, you press him up, gentling encouraging him to get off. “Come on, sleepyhead, your grandpa’s gonna start looking for us if we’re gone for too long.”

Keishin grimaces, propping himself up onto his elbows as he withdraws from you. The air against the mess on your thighs makes you shiver. “Please don’t mention the old man while I’m still inside you.”

He falls back into his heels and leaves you laying there. Before adjusting himself, he takes your bare leg by the ankle and tries to slip your pant leg back on. The hem gets caught on your heel and he fumbles.

“I can dress myself, Shin, you don’t have to.” you sigh, even as you adjust to make it easier. Denim sticks to your wet skin and he continues to work, completely ignoring your protest. As you lift your hips, letting him slide it past your waist. “Did you mean it?” 

He hums a question, buttoning your pants.

“You really wanna spend the rest of your days with me?”

Ukai looks up at you. “Well. Yeah, of course.” he smiles, “Who else is gonna put cinnamon in my coffee?”

[goddessofroyalty]

In your zuan family au, how do you think I'd go down if viktor came back to the house *sobbing*, like something actually serious has happened and he needs confort. Like how would vander, silco or the other kids react. Xoxx love your blog BTW xx

I've been looking for an excuse to write Viktor coming home after an argument with Jayce so thank you for that, it's under the cut (just Vander focused but I feel like I need to give him some time with his kids as well).

So no matter the situation behind it Viktor's siblings are murderous. They want to fight whoever or whatever has made their big brother cry (which, you know, gets almost funny the more abstract the reason for the tears are). It's very much a posturing behaviour but they don't know what else to do so violence it is.

Vander is very much the hugs + favourite food/drink + cry it out on my shoulder until you can talk it out parent. He’s not happy about it of course, and if it was ever someone from Zaun he’s definitively going to have a talk to them about it (actual talk but like... kind of talk where said person is waiting for it to not just be words anymore), but he also knows there are problems he can’t solve for his kids.

Silco kind of depends on what exactly is the cause of it but assuming it's something to do with Piltover than he's very frustrated. Because he did definitively warn Viktor that they would be cruel way back when Viktor first asked to study there and he definitively didn’t raise his children to not be proud people and keep their heads up. But he also hates that his son is so distressed and while comforting I think his gets the tone of you’re better then them/it don’t let them/it bring you down. 

In the slightly longer term if it is serious, well, Silco is going to handle whatever made his son cry.

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

Viktor’s knee hurts as he stands in front of the last drop composing himself enough to go in. Naph at his side, his poor pup clearly exhausted from the walk from the bridge down into the Lanes that normally Jayce carries him for.

They had made it though, even if the dimming of the signs along the street tell that it is nearly closing time and far past Naph’s bedtime.

The door swings open and Viktor’s dad fills the open space. Looking down at them with worried eyes.

“Are you okay?”

No. Viktor feels far from okay. But he only managed to get his tears under control to get them down here and he isn’t ready to admit what had happened to his father just yet.

“Can we stay here tonight?” He doesn’t know if he will be ready to go back tomorrow but he can deal with that after he hopefully gets some sleep.

“Of course,” Vander says, picking Naph up who rests his head onto his grandfather’s chest, almost immediately starting to fall asleep. Vander slinging the bag Viktor brought with them over his shoulder. “There will always be space for you here.”

“Thank you,” Viktor says, ignoring his own pain and fatigue to follow his father into the bar. He’s much too old to be carried himself. Much too old to be bringing his problems to his parent’s doorstep.

“I’ll get him into bed, you just sit for a minute,” Vander says and Viktor doesn’t have the energy to fight him so sits at one of the tables near the back of the room as far as he feels his legs will take him.

The bar is already mostly empty from the hour it is. But the few patrons that remain glance at him before closing their tab and leaving for the night. Viktor might care more about ruining their nights from how terrible he must look if his own exhaustion wasn’t overtaking him. Forcing him to lean over his crutch to keep himself from falling asleep on the table.

His father returns with a mug of sweet milk for him. Putting it on the table before pulling Viktor into a hug.

The warmth and familiar safety of his father’s arms around him makes it too hard to keep holding himself together. The tears sting his already tired eyes as they fall.

“My poor boy,” Vander says, rubbing along Viktor’s back as he sobs against his father’s chest. “What happened?”

“I- we-“ The words feel almost impossible to form, especially with his Vander’s warmth around him and his father’s voice telling him it’s alright, take your time. “Jayce and I had an argument.”

“About?”

“What else would it be?” Other than the looming threat on the horizon and question of what might have to be done to protect their borders and people.

Viktor may be the child of two Revolutionaries but he hated the idea of going into an arms race. And Jayce, who had never seen true violence in his life, would turn their life’s work into weapons.

He glances up at his father to see the sympathetic look his explanation has earned him.

“I couldn’t be around him.” So he had taken their son and come back home.

“You can stay as long as you need,” Vander promises as Viktor lets himself relax into his father’s arms.

“Thank you.”

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 5

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

Life seems good now. You have Taehyung as a friend and the wolves, that’s all you need. But soon, the inevitable comes and it’s time to say goodbye. 

“(y/n).” Someone called your name and you opened your eyes. You were in the field that you usually relaxed in with the wolves. Looking up, you saw a boy standing there. He had pale skin and jet black hair. 

“W-Who are you?” You asked. He came up to you until there was only a thin space of air between the two of you. You stepped back but he circled an arm around your waist to hold you in place. Suddenly, he pulled you against him to hug you tightly. 

“Umm...” You mumbled, your cheek smushed against his chest. 

“Remember, my fur is the most beautiful.” He whispered in your ear with a dark chuckle that sent shivers down your spine. 

“Y-Yoongi?” Your eyes widened as you stepped back in shock. He pulled away and started running away, leaving you to stand there in the field alone. Was that really Yoongi?

“Wait!” You ran after him. You called out after him but he wouldn’t stop running. All you could hear was his light laughter as you continued to run. 

“Yoongi?” You saw him disappear behind some trees. But when you walked over, all you saw was a white wolf. 

“Hey...” You bent down, holding your hand out. The wolf stood up and headed over to you. He sniffed your hand and licked it gently, leaning his cheek against your palm. You smiled softly as you felt his soft fur tickle against your skin. There was more howling behind you and you turned around, standing back up. You faced the 6 wolves. 

“What?” There was a sudden blur and in the wolves place, you saw 6 boys standing there. You backed away and bumped into someone’s chest. When you turned around to apologise, it was the pale boy from before. 

“Are you really... Yoongi?” You asked in disbelief. He held your hand in his, putting it against his cheek. 

“What’s going on?” You faced the others. It was the same boy as your other dream, the human form of Jimin that teased you about chicken. 

“You’ll be fine.” He spoke, smiling softly. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Your eyes shot open and you sat up, reaching over to turn your alarm off. The wolves were not in your room. You headed downstairs and found them already awake, mostly just lounging around. Yawning, you went to wash up before going back down to make breakfast. 

“Morning.” You stroked their heads. 

“(y/n)...” Jimin whined. The boys had woken up earlier because today was going to be their last day with you. 

“What’s wrong, Jiminie?” You cooed, leaning to kiss the top of his head. He stepped closer and brushed his head against your thigh, burying his cheek into your skin. 

“I don’t have school today so we can spend the day together.” You bent down, sitting on the couch. The wolves sat around you, Jungkook placed his head on your lap and you ran your fingers through his fur, rubbing his ears. 

“What’s up with you guys?” You looked at them. All of them sent you sad looks and you blinked at them. 

“You hungry? Is that it?” Laughing, you stood up and went to the kitchen to get breakfast ready. It was nice to have a free weekend with no school and work. You made meat for the boys and when they smelled the bacon, they seemed to be back to normal, jumping for your attention so you would give them a taste. You gave them small pieces as a treat. 

“Here.” You placed the bowls down. 

“Guys, don’t make it too obvious. We don’t want to ruin her day. Just let her spend it with us happily.” Namjoon sighed. The rest nodded in agreement. 

“Go ahead.” You sat with them and ate. Of course, Jungkook got rice all over his snout but you were more than willing to clean it for him. 

“You’re so messy Kookie.” You laughed. 

“Is it weird that I dreamt of all of you as humans? Like all 7 of you were in my dreams as human boys.” You suddenly said and the wolves stopped. They subtly side eyed each other at your words. 

“But that’s just me being crazy.” You ruffled Hoseok’s fur with a smile. After eating, you cleaned the area and washed the dishes. You shuffled to the couch, placing your mug of water down and turning on the television. Today was going to be a total relaxed day. 

“Yah! Taehyung!” You saw him stick his entire nose into your mug to drink your water. 

“Ah... It’s yours now. Go ahead.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. Taehyung gave you a big grin, flashing his canines as he stuck his entire nose into your mug again to drink your water. 

“You guys have your own water, you know?” You nodded over to the metal bowls of water you have set out for them. 

“The water tastes better when I share it with you.” Taehyung grinned, making the others scoff. 

“The weather is still really good. Shall we go for a walk?” You stood up and stretched. The wolves all barked and you laughed, switching the television off and going to change. You tied your hair up into a messy bun and wore your shoes. The wolves led the way while you tried your best to keep up. You knew they were slowing down for you. 

“You guys don’t need to wait for me. I’ll feel bad.” You told them.

“No way are we leaving you alone.” Jin shook his head as he continued to trot beside you.

You all continued hiking and actually made it to the cliff edge. The forest was beneath you and you stared out into the horizon. The wolves sat beside you, the wind blowing their fur back. 

“This feels nice. Like we’re complete.” Jungkook closed his eyes.  

“The view is amazing.” You took a deep breath. You sat down with the wolves around you. Jimin licked your cheek gently and you giggled.

“My grandfather and I used to go for walks all the time. He loved nature as well and I remember how even as a kid, he would always bring me for long walks to experience nature. I just know that he would have loved to meet all of you.” You sighed happily, thinking of your late grandfather. 

“It was always just the two of us. But now, I have all of you.” You smiled, laying your head on Namjoon’s middle. He sniffed you gently and you kissed his muzzle as you relaxed. 

“And we have you.” Taehyung scooted next to you. 

“I thought that I was just destined to be alone forever. I was always bullied for being alone to the point I felt like I just didn’t need friends.” You continued. 

“You’ll always have us. We’ll never leave you.” Jimin placed his paw on top of your hand, making you chuckle. 

“Then grandpa died so suddenly. All I want to do is graduate high school and support myself properly. You know, live life as much as I can. Ever since you 7 came, I don’t think I’ve ever felt happier.” You kissed Hoseok’s head.

After staying there for a couple of hours relaxing, you all went back to the house. As you entered, the wolves stood outside, looking uneasy. You realised that you were going in alone and turned around to see all of them just standing in the front yard. 

“What...” You stopped when you realised what was going on. The day has come, the one your dreaded. 

“You’re leaving.” You stated. Jimin whined, his head lowering. 

“It’s okay. I guess we knew that you couldn’t stay here forever right? You guys can’t possibly stay here forever- Sorry.” You looked away as your voice cracked. Taking deep breaths, you tried not to cry. 

“Do you guys mind just having dinner with me? We didn’t have lunch and you guys must be hungry.” You requested. The wolves looked at each other. 

“I hate seeing that look on her face.” Yoongi cursed. 

“Let’s just have one more meal with her as wolves.” Jungkook sighed. They all looked at Namjoon, their pack leader. Namjoon gave a nod and the wolves looked back at you before going into the house. 

“Thank you.” You whispered and went to the kitchen. You took beef out, which you actually saved to surprise them with and turned on the flame. The wolves immediately smelled the meat, along with your salty tears. They watched as you quickly took a towel and turned away from them to wipe the tears from your eyes. You met eyes with them. 

“It’s just the smoke.” You quickly excused, fanning your eyes to emphasise your point. 

“She’s crying...” Their hearts all broke at your tears. 

“Please don’t be sad, (y/n).” Taehyung came up to you and pawed at your feet, whimpering. You forced a smile and petted his head before going back to flipping the meat in the pan. 

While you waited for the beef to cook, you made some ramen for yourself. You didn’t want to waste any time cooking. 

“Here. Enjoy. I bought these as a surprise for you guys.” You placed the pieces of beef down in front of them. The wolves leaned in and began to eat up the meat. You had some beef with your ramen too but you just weren’t hungry. 

“Have it.” You gave them your beef. 

“(y/n), you have to eat too.” They whined. 

“It’s okay, I’m not hungry.” You shook your head as you stirred your ramen around but didn’t eat. Instead of gobbling down everything, the wolves ate slowly. They were all sad to see you sad, after all, they did share your emotions. You picked some bites here and there. 

After the silent dinner, you were standing by the door with the wolves. They all stood in a semi circle, looking at you. 

“I know you guys can’t stay here forever. It isn’t right of me to force you to stay either.” You smiled at them. Namjoon stepped up to you and you bent down. 

“Be safe and don’t get hurt anymore. Promise me, you’ll visit.” You gave them all kisses and hugs, which they reciprocated by licking your cheek and giving you boops with their noses. 

“We will see you again very soon. We will never be too far away from you.” Namjoon comforted. 

“Thank you for accompanying this lonely girl.” You laughed. 

“Don’t say that about yourself.” Yoongi sighed. The wolves waited for you to re enter the house. Once they knew you were safe, they retreated. 

“I’ll see you soon.” You smiled as you cried. 

That night, you cried yourself to sleep, looking at the only picture of you and the wolves you had on your phone. Jin’s light grey fur, Yoongi’s pristine white fur, Namjoon’s charcoal black fur, Hoseok’s white fur with a light brown coat, Jimin’s light brown fur, Taehyung’s dark brown fur and Kookie’s dark grey fur. 

They were all so unique and beautiful in their own way. The way you ran your fingers through their soft coats. You’ll never forget that feeling. 

It was thanks to Jimin. You believed that fate brought him to your house that very night he got injured. Wolf or human, he was your first friend. He was so gentle and friendly. 

The next day, you woke up to a quiet house. There was no sounds of footsteps, growls or whines in the living room. You headed downstairs to find the living room dark and empty. Life was back to the way it was. 

“I need to go grocery shopping.” You changed and locked the door. As you were heading down to the bus stop, you saw some trucks drive past you. 

“New neighbours?” You were the only cabin in your area but you were excited at the thought of new neighbours. 

Maybe this was your wolves sending you the luck of making new friends.

As you waited for the bus, you turned to see the edge of the forest. Of course, there was no wolf standing there. You sighed, mentally scolding yourself for even thinking that you would see the wolves standing there, waiting with you for the bus. You had grown so used to them following you to the bus stop that it was just a habit of yours to look there. 

“At least they’re free.” You told yourself as you smiled softly and stepped into the bus. 

-

“I’m back!” Taehyung walked through the door with his hands full. He had gone to pick up some things for the other boys while the others were unpacking their clothes in their rooms. 

“Did you see her?” Yoongi asked from his spot on the couch. 

“Narrowly missed her when I took the bus back. She was going out to town.” Taehyung replied. 

“How was she?” Jin came out of the kitchen. 

“Not so good.” Taehyung shook his lowered head. The others all came out to the living room. Jimin wrapped his arms around his best friend to hug him. 

“Let’s hope, she’ll be better tomorrow.” He comforted and Taehyung nodded. Jungkook grabbed a glass of milk from the fridge. He remembered one time he purposely spilt your glass of milk during breakfast just so he could drink some of it. Even if you were angry, you never showed it. 

Taehyung wished he had a phone at the time he met you so he could exchange numbers with you. It would have been easier for him (and less awkward) to text you and check up on you.

“I’m going for a run.” Jungkook put his empty glass down. 

“Have fun.” Yoongi yawned, wanting to go up to his room to take a nap. Jungkook removed his clothes, throwing it aside before transforming. 

“Jungkook, Yoongi hyung. We got our crystals.” Namjoon stopped them. Jin took a box out with their coloured crystal necklaces. Each crystal reflected their own crystal colour. 

Jin had pink, Yoongi had black, Hoseok had red, Namjoon had blue, Jimin had yellow, Taehyung had green and Jungkook had purple. 

“This is for her.” Namjoon closed the box when there was one crystal necklace left. He kept it in his room while the rest returned to their activities. Jungkook’s large form took off into the forest. Jimin, Taehyung and Jin played their video games, Hoseok was building his new figurines that came in the mail, Namjoon read while Yoongi slept. 

“Hyung, do we know how the hunters found us so easily?” Jimin asked Jin as they played. 

“We’re not sure but we do have word from the North packs that the hunters have also been more diligent lately. We just have to be careful of where we are. Hopefully, we can stay here for a while.” Jin shrugged. 

“Then the other night, (y/n) said she dreamt of us as humans, was that because of the bond?” Taehyung spoke. 

“We didn’t plan to enter her dreams. We just appeared there so I would say it’s the bond that tied us to her and connected us.” The older said. 

“I’ve entered her dream a few days after we met.” Jimin raised his hand. 

“The same as the other night. I just appeared there and she was there. I was able to talk to her and she was able to talk to me, as if we were facing each other in real life.” Jimin relayed. The other two nodded their heads. Jin soon retreated to the kitchen to make snacks. 

“Let’s try our best tomorrow.” Jimin turned to Taehyung. 

“Honestly, it was so hard to control my wolf when I first saw her. I mean, I had to act like a complete stranger.” Taehyung laughed. Namjoon and Hoseok came downstairs. 

“We’re trying to find out more about the wolf that tried to attack (y/n) that night we went to have our meeting.” Namjoon said. 

“He wasn’t just a regular rogue?”

“He could be but why would he target (y/n)? Rogues don’t usually go out and attack humans out of no where. And (y/n) lives in such a secluded area of the forest. Why would a rogue come here?” Hoseok wondered. 

“They are rogues for a reason. They roam around onto anyone’s land. They don’t obey boundary rules.” Taehyung shrugged. 

“Let’s just hope he was just a rogue.” Namjoon sighed. 

Jungkook came back from his run, his dark grey form covered in visible mud. Hoseok grabbed a hose to wash him down, not wanting the maknae to step into the new house like that and dirtying it. Jungkook growled at the older beta as he was drenched from head to toe. He shook the water out of his fur, making Hoseok wet as well. 

“Yah.” Hoseok threw Jungkook a towel and he transformed back, wrapping the towel around his bare torso. 

“That was too cold, hyung!” Jungkook complained. 

“I’m not gonna risk you dirtying the house with dirt when we just moved in. We took so long just to clean it.” Hoseok scoffed, rolling his eyes. Jungkook grumbled and went in to have an actual shower.

“Hyung! I wanna eat after my shower!” Jungkook shouted as he entered his room, slamming the door behind him. 

“AIsh, Jeon Jungkook.” Jin rolled his eyes as he took things out to start on their late lunch. It had been a while since Jin cooked since you have been taking good care of them. But of course, you never really understood what a big appetite wolves had so it was never really enough. 

“Hoseok, help me cook the rice!” Jin called and the younger jogged over, saluting. He took the rice pot out and scooped multiple cups in. 

“Can I help?” Taehyung came in. 

“Help me stir this.” Jin let Taehyung take over while he busied himself with preparing the other meat side dishes. 

“I have an idea! Let’s invite (y/n) over for dinner tomorrow. As new neighbours?” Taehyung suggested. 

“She has work remember? Maybe the day after. If she’s up for it.” Hoseok reminded and the other two nodded their heads. They were excited to see you again and just wanted to get closer to you as humans, not as wolves. Jungkook came down and entered the kitchen. He saw the food that was ready and wanted to sneak some bites when Jin smacked him. 

“You may have been able to do that with (y/n) but not with me.” Jin scolded and Jungkook whined like a puppy. 

“You’re an alpha but still act like a puppy.” Jin ruffled his hair and Jungkook growled, rolling his eyes. He grabbed a piece an apple and walked to the living room to wait for the meal. 

“Hyung is cooking?” A sleepy Yoongi came down. Jungkook nodded his head. The older alpha yawned and went into the kitchen. 

“I miss (y/n).” Jungkook mumbled to himself. 

Namjoon was taking a walk, scouting the area as the leader of his pack. He was just checking if there have been any intruders on their land besides the wolf that tried to attack you the other time. 

“Ugh, did I overbuy?” He heard your voice and quickly hid himself behind some bushes. Peeking over the hedge, he watched as you trudged up the forest path with bags of groceries in your hands. Namjoon had to fight the urge that he had to just step forward and help you. 

“Soon.” He sighed. But as you walked, he quietly threaded behind you, wanting to at least make sure that you make it to your house safely. He heard you humming to yourself. 

“At least she’s not too sad.” Namjoon consoled himself. He knew you were strong and weren’t going to let emotions wear your down. 

You were definitely the one. 

~~ 

Tag list

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[cherrys-writings]

Pancakes? Panic-cakes?

The next time I open my eyes, light is streaming through the windows, definitely past midmorning. I reached toward the coffee table, trying to grab a phone to check the time. Grayson stirred above me, stretching his legs and nuzzling his head into my chest, I froze. When he stilled, I lifted it above him; the clock read noon, twenty-seven missed calls, and who knows how many texts. He’ll be mad if he sleeps any longer than this.

“Grayson,” I cooed, gently shaking his shoulder, “It’s noon. You should probably get up sleepy.”

He groaned, arms stretching forward before massaging his forehead with his fingertips, but not moving from where he lay. 

“Are you sure? It doesn’t feel like noon,” Grayson sighed, voice raspy from sleep.A whistling teapot cut through my sleep; glancing at the time, I wondered who would be making tea at this hour before remembering that I live alone. Rubbing my eyes, I silently curse myself for giving him keys in the first place. The tea would take a few minutes to finish and I use that time to remember how to function, at 2:30am.  

The floor squeaks, announcing my entrance to the intruder in the kitchen. I wished I could capture this moment of him that so few are privileged to see: blond hair sticking up at all angles, rumpled pajama pants, plain t-shirt, and mismatched sock wearing Grayson Hawthorne. Late night visits were increasingly common in the past year. 

“Have a mug preference or is it dealer’s choice?” Grayson called

The moment was broken, “dealer’s choice,” I responded, leaning against the counter beside him. 

“You really should get a guard dog or something. You never know who may show up in the middle of the night,” he chided.

“And ruin such a pleasant surprise? Not a chance,” I kept to our odd routine greeting.

Grayson would come over when he wanted to get some space from everyone. Although Hawthorne House was massive, there seemed to be no room for anyone to breathe. I don’t remember exactly when these started, we had always spent time together during school. I guess working on projects together led to casual time at each other’s homes, which led to this. The air around him felt different tonight, like the night he told me about Emily. 

“It’s peppermint tea and honey,” Grayson stated as he handed me the mug. 

Glancing down I saw he picked the one with a cat that stated “you’re kinda paw-some.”

“I see you have a theme tonight,” I nodded toward his own black cat shaped mug. 

He chuckles, “well, it’s true. Not many people would be okay with someone showing up in their kitchen in the middle of the night.”

Knowing Grayson for as long as I have, beating around the bush is not something he enjoys doing. 

He is definitely upset about something big.

Wordlessly, he walks into the living room, I follow and take a spot beside him on the couch. This might be one of those times where he just needs to sit in silence with the presence of a friend; be reminded that he isn’t alone with whatever thoughts are swirling around his head. Grayson isn’t volatile or outwardly expressive when it comes to emotions. For whatever reason, he never showed his true feelings unless he seriously trusted someone and for whatever reason I was one of those people. 

“He’s dead,” Grayson whispered, “The old man, my grandfather, he’s dead.”

After everything Grayson has told me and my own experience with the man, I don’t know what to do. I know about all of the good times they had together and all of the bad. I want to tell him everything is going to be okay and that he can do whatever he needs to do to get through this time. I wanted to tell him that I would be around as often as he wanted, that he could stay here if he needed to, he could cry as hard as he needed, or yell, or break something. 

“Damn,” is what comes out instead.

Grayson exhaled, “sounds about right.”

Setting my tea on a table, I moved closer to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. Biting his lip, he laid one hand on top of mine and turned to face me. 

I wiped a tear as it escaped, “Grayson it’s al–”

“I don’t know what everyone is going to do. None of us were ready for this or knew that he was sick,” his voice hitched, “all the riddles and puzzles and none of us could figure out that he was dying. Sure he pushed us to be the best and put a lot of pressure on us, but maybe he thought he was doing the right thing. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Grayson covered his tear streaked face with his hands gasping, “He should have said something to one of us, to me.”

I wrapped my arms around his shuddering form, “I don’t know why he never told anyone and I can’t tell you what you’re supposed to do now. The world isn’t going to stop spinning if you take time for yourself, Grayson.”

 He scoffed, “You know as well as I do th-”

 “Please do not start in on the ‘my family needs me’ speech, because you need to do whatever is going to help you get through all of this. Let everything out.”

Grayson turned, burrowed his head into my shoulder, and sighed as I laid back on the couch. His head on my chest, I played with his hair while humming and rubbing his back at every shuddering breath. Eventually, soft gasps slowed and the rigid muscles of his back somewhat relaxed.  

Pounding on the door woke me with a jolt. It took a moment to realise that I couldn’t get up because Grayson was still laying on me, deep asleep. I prayed whoever it was would give up and leave. It was unlikely that anyone had noticed Grayson’s absence yet, he was usually back before they knew he was gone. “You better have a good reason for not answering your phone, Grayson Hawthorne,” called Nash as he strode through the door. 

“Be quiet,” I hissed, “he’s sleeping.”

Nash smiled, “Here I thought my brother had turned into a robot.”

“Give him a break. You know the expectations Grayson sets for himself and we both know how some people can be during a crisis,” running my fingers through Grayson’s light hair, “let him have some time to wrap his mind around things first.”

“So he already told you the news? I will never understand how the two of you remained so close after everything.”

“We’re just good friends. Grayson came to me when he found out she was dating the both of them and when things got rocky. As much as it hurt to see what she was doing to them, I had to accept that all I could do was be there for him. There was nothing anyone could do or say to get them to see clearly.” I cleared my throat, “So, umm, how is Skye and everyone?”

“I’ve had some ‘good friends’ in my time too, missy,” said Nash, using dramatic air quotes. “Tell him I said to come home sometime today.” 

The door clicked gently, Nash was gone. Grayson’s arms tightened around me, I began smoothing his mess of light hair. How much sleep is he going to get the next few weeks?

  I lowered the phone to his eye-level, he gasped and immediately snached the phone from my hand. Sitting up, Grayson began scrolling through all the messages and voicemails, eyes darting back and forth across the screen.

“I have to leave. Now,” He grabs my outstretched hand and pulls me to a sitting position; our faces inches apart for a moment. Pushing off the couch he starts towards the door, “I need to call Alisa to start funeral preparations.”

Grayson continues listing tasks off to himself as he begins to put his shoes on. 

“Grayson,” I sing-song, trying to no avail to catch his attention, “Grason Davenport.” 

He freezes like a child caught doing something they know they shouldn’t. I stand up and stride towards him. Plucking the phone out of his hand I say, “you need to eat something before you try to handle any of this. You’re going to get busy and forget to take care of yourself. Either look for clothes you left here or shower. I’ll see what I can make for us to eat, then you can think about responding to everyone.” 

Wordlessly, he removes his shoes and obeys. I turn the coffee maker on and look in the refrigerator; pondering what comfort food I could make that would take some worry off his chest. Hearing the shower turn on, I decide on pancakes from scratch and bacon.

Several minutes later, Grayson is walking through the kitchen, toned abdomen bare, toweling his hair with one hand. “Do you remember where I put spare clothes?”

“Check the hallway closet,” I reply, not looking up from the stove.

By the time he returns, I’ve finished cooking and poured coffee into a cactus covered mug. Ever the gentleman, he eats slowly, despite the many tasks on his mind. Warm silence blankets us while we eat. Grayson clears the table and stove without a second thought, you would never know he had an army of staff at Hawthorne House. 

“I can come over later if you want. Just give me time to put a meal together,” I offer, walking towards the sink.

Grayson rushes forward, pulling me into a crushing hug, “don’t let me sleep so long next time,” he says as I wrap my arms around his shoulders. 

He buries his head against my shoulder. Tighter, he pulls me towards him. Tighter, I try to wrap my arms around him, as if I could keep him from breaking through sheer force of will. Too soon he lets go and makes his way towards the door. 

“Grayson,” I grab his hand without thinking. For a moment his gaze is fixed on the floor, then his icy eyes meet mine. There’s a desperation behind them, like he knows the countless sleepless nights ahead can be avoided if one of us says the right thing. Grayson’s trembling lips almost plead for someone to take over for him. For someone to burst out and say this has all been a joke. 

“Breathe,” I tell him

A split second later, the pained expression is gone, replaced by the stoic coolness of the heir he was raised to be. I don’t fight when he pulls his wrist out of my grasp and walks out. Out of the simplicity of a place where we can pretend the world doesn’t exist and into a whirling storm of questions which, for the first time, he is unable to answer. 

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Surprising Finds

Summary- 1.7k. Ransom Drysdale x You. Bucky Barnes x You. Ransom said you could do whatever you want. So you decided you wanted to go antiquing much to his dismay. Warnings- probably a word or two. But honestly its fluff. Divider made by @firefly-graphics​

A/N- I found out @sagechanoafterdark​‘s birthday is coming up. As its a surprise, I didn't ask but I did take some inspiration from her personal series Held For Ransom and All Good Things. Both fantastic series and should be checked out. I hope you have a wonderful day Sage and thank you for reading all my rambles in your DM’s. 

Ransom perched his sunglasses on the end of his nose as he peered over the frames to the quaint storefront you had him stop at. There was a couple tables displaying some nice dishes and other kitchen appliances, above them in the awning were hanging baskets of morning glories lifting to the morning sunlight and giving the whole store a welcoming feeling. “Here? This is where you wanted to stop Y/N? It looks abandoned.” 

You were digging in your purse and pulling out a few bills to stuff in your pocket before pushing your bag to the floorboard and under the passenger side car seat. “It does not look abandoned. There is an open sign right in the door.” 

“Is that even a legit sign? It looks like something someone plastered it there to draw in unsuspecting tourists so they can trap them and torture them. There is a Saks just another hour away we will be passing. You can find whatever you want there.” He tried reasoning with you, about to turn the car back on when you reached over and slipped the keys from the ignition and smirked at him. 

“Nice try Ransom, but today was about what I wanted to do.” You slipped out of the car, leaving him there huffing at you and pushing his sunglasses back up his nose and following you. He did agree this morning to those terms. Of course you might have coerced him with playful kisses on his chest while straddling him, giving him the look.

That look. 

The cursed look you could pull off whenever you caught him off guard. Fuck it Drysdale, you should have known better. 

“Well if I had known you were going to drag me to the middle of some bum fuck town in the middle of nowhere to look at other people's junk, I would have planned out a trip for us instead.” He complained in a slightly accusing tone as you shrugged while pushing open the door with some effort, blinking in the sudden dim lighting that accompanied antique stores typically. 

“Stay in the car then Hugh, you can't ruin this for me.” Almost flippant sounding, not caring. Oh that tone could drive him nuts.

“Don't call me that.” he snapped. 

“Then quit acting like I'm forcing you to come with me against your will.” You shot back with a smirk, knowing that you could so easily get under his skin. Peering around now that your eyes adjusted. So far no one had come from the counter to greet them, so you just wandered into the building. Ransom was not far behind, picking up random things and rolling it in his hands before setting them back down. You hummed happily while lifting box covers and pulling out old records, reading titles and sifting through a few piles of magazines and books littering the shelves. “See, it's not so bad.” 

Ransom, who was currently glancing in a glass case with some fine gold jewelry and coins yanked his sunglasses off and perched them atop his head. “It's okay, but it's still full of junk.” He made a pointed glance at a gaudy relic of a mime painting leaning against a wall. 

“Sure, you have to seek out the treasures in here.” You countered while sidling up towards him, loping your arm around his waist while looking in the case before moving towards the painting he had so adamantly pointed out. “What do you say, we could always gift this to Linda?” You teased and Ransom moved beyond the glass case to stand in front of it, laughing. 

“Are you saying my mother would enjoy that?” Ransom quirked a brow as you made a move to stand a bit away, holding it out at arms length and making you giggle. 

“Hell I know she would hate it, but how funny would it be to see her attempt to say thank you while we are offering to hang it on her wall?” 

“She wouldn't even try. She would flat out say hell no.” Ransom shook his head and pulled out the painting behind it, grimacing at the next one. Some portrait of a man, looking stoic in the portrait, it actually reminded Ransom of his Harlen's portrait that he was sure Marta still had hanging in memory of his grandfather. “Besides, it's probably haunted or some shit.” 

You were about to point out why it was an even better gift then to torture Linda with when a male’s voice interrupted them. You both turned at the same time to see someone come out the back room. 

Coffee colored hair framed around a warm face, dog tags bouncing off his chest as he grunted with effort dropping off a heavy looking box behind the cash register. “I can assure you it is not haunted. Not that piece at least.” The man brushed the dust off his hands as he came around to greet them. “But I'm afraid I can't tell you the story behind it. I'm just helping today. The store owner happens to be at an estate sale. But anything you have an interest in, I can have her call you. My name is Bucky, if you need any other kind of help.” He smiled warmly, holding his hand out which you shook, then Ransom afterwards, introducing yourselves as well.

You had to admit he had caught you by surprise. Your breath hitched a bit and you felt Ransom stiffen next to you, having heard it as well. “We are just here to look around, not for anything in particular. But thanks for the offer.” You mention while Ransom wraps an arm over your shoulder, you could feel him posturing slightly, a puff to his chest, a rumble of a “We are fine, thanks.” 

Bucky retreated back to his project after you two moved away further into the store, looking over old knick knacks and vases that you had an interest in. Ransom loosened up once you two were alone again. 

“What was that about?” You asked while moving to a clothes rack, picking up an extravagant hat and perching it on your head. 

“What was what about?” he asked, grabbing a scarf and draping it around your neck, pulling you closer. A signature smirk on perfect pink lips upturned slightly. “You look dashing by the way.” 

You narrow your gaze as he drops his head to nip at your lips, pressing your hands to firm pecs under his shirt. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.” you whispered while he continued to tease you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth before he pulled away. 

“I heard that gasp of yours.” He pulled the scarf off while you did the same with the hat, moving into another section of the store. “You think he’s cute.” 

You paw through some random box of items, picking through mugs and utensils. “So what if I did?” 

Ransom curled the tip of his nose at your response and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, seeing a moment of self doubt that you knew he dealt with, although you two have brushed on the subject a few times, you knew it lingered. You roll your eyes to yourself with a half smile and turn back to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Sure hes cute, but does he drive me insane and fuck me so good I’m screaming his name? Or bring me my morning coffee in bed? Do I wear his favorite sweater around the house to tease him? That's a hell no, only you get that Ransom.” 

“You are a menace.” Ransom shook his head, that doubt melting from his eyes and turning sharp again with your statement. 

“Hell, calling the kettle black their Drysdale.” You grin while taking his hand and leading him to the next table. Ransom was about to follow when he pulled up short, picking up a decanter made from cut crystal. 

“Okay this I want.” He let go of your hand, admiring the rest of the set. You folded your arms over your chest, smirking at him. 

“See, complain the whole time and look who’s the first one to find something they just had to have.” 

You stood at your kitchen counter mixing together some dried tea leaves to pack into a tea ball when you felt a pair of arms circle around your waist and a broad chest press against your back. “Welcome home Doll.” came the Brooklyn accent that made you smile, looking over your shoulder with a quick peck to his lips. 

“It's good to be back. I got some really nice items so that once they are cleaned up they will look excellent displayed in the front there. Did you have any customers?” You turned back to your tea, dipping it in a cup and pouring the steaming water over it. Soon the calming aroma of lavender wafted over you two while Bucky and you retreated towards the living room. He settled first and you curled into his side. 

His fingers smoothed along your thigh while he recounted the day to you. A few small sales, some of the vintage dresses that so many loved finding in good condition, a rather nice dresser you had hoped would find a good home and collectible teddy bears that you guessed would go quickly. 

“... then a younger couple came in. They had a whole mess of stuff they took with them. That decanter set you had laying around went. And the woman found herself a “I’m The Boss” mug she insisted on much to his dismay.” Bucky chuckled softly recalling the expressions. “They were looking at the paintings in the corner. Assuming that mime one was haunted, it is kind of creepy.”

You giggled while sipping your tea. “It is, I hate that thing, but people are really into that shit. Good thing they didn't take that one behind it. That one actually does have a spirit attached to it.” 

“The old man portrait?” 

You nodded while tugging a blanket off the back of the couch and cuddling into it, wrapping the two of you up while reaching for the remote. “Oh yes, he's been with that thing for years. Harmless really, you can catch him when you smell cigar smoke. He just likes to hang out. I offered to move him on, but he insists he's happy right where he is.” 

Bucky was quiet a moment and tugged you in closer. “I can understand that.”

[lucy-268]

A Day Off

Series/Pairing: Open Heart - Bryce Lahela xF!OC (Maggie Layne)

Disclaimer: Most characters belong to PB, Maggie is sort of mine

Rating / Warnings: T / None

Summary: Bryce and Maggie have their first day off together in a while. Will a common cold ruin their time?

Comments/Notes: Written for Day 3: Forehead kiss/touch for @choicesficwriterscreations Flufftober event. Also uses the @wackydrabbles prompt, which will be in bold.

Word count: 811

Bryce stood in his small kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. He remembered when he used to sleep in as much as he could, but now he enjoyed the early mornings. It gave him time to hit the gym or go for a run. Before Keiki had left for school he enjoyed having breakfast with her. Maggie, on the other hand, could be up early when she needed to work, but on her days off she would sleep the day away. A glance at the clock told him he needed to wake her. She had been wanting to have brunch at the new restaurant along the waterfront, Erica’s Kitchen.

He poured himself a cup of coffee and fixed her a mug of hot chocolate before heading back to the bedroom. Good morning, beautiful.” He leaned down and kissed her.

Maggie sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t get to kiss him and instead ended up turning her head and sneezing against his arm. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she got out, before another sneeze hit. She grabbed a box of tissues from the night stand.

Bryce pushed her hair back and looked at her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she looked tired even after sleeping all night. He pressed his lips against her forehead. Maggie pulled away. “I should get up.”

“Actually you should get back in bed. You aren’t going anywhere today.” When Maggie looked at him, he smiled. “You have a fever.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“My Tutu Wahine used to check my temperature like that. You have a fever.” As she stared at him, he got off the bed and walked down the hall to the bathroom, returning with a thermometer. “Check it yourself, but I’m not wrong.”

Maggie slipped the thermometer under her tongue. When it beeped she took it out of her mouth and looked at it. “Hhhuh.”

“Told ya. Now crawl back under the covers.” After she was resettled in bed, he picked up her hot chocolate and headed out of the room.

“Hey!”

“I’ll be back.” He kept his word and returned less than fifteen minutes later with a tray with enough toast for both of them and a cup of tea with honey and lemon for her.

After they, mostly Bryce, polished off their breakfast, Maggie leaned against his shoulder. “Tutu Wahine means grandmother?” When Bryce nodded, she continued. “Tell me about her. Neither you nor Keiki mention her.”

“My Tutu was great. She died before Keiki was born. She used to take care of me during the day when my parents worked. After I started school, my mom would drop me off with her when I was sick. She used to sing to me and she was the one who taught me how to read. She was also the best baker.”

“I wouldn’t tell Sienna that! Maggie laughed. “I don’t associate Hawaii with baking.”

“She actually grew up in Iowa. She came to Hawaii to visit, and fell in love with the state and my grandfather and never left.”

Maggie yawned again and Bryce slipped out of the bed. “Where are you going?”

He turned around and pulled the covers around her. “You need another nap.”

Bryce headed to the kitchen and set a stock pot on the stove. A quick check told him he had everything he needed to fix his Tutu’s chicken soup. He smiled as he thought about her. She would have loved Maggie.

Several hours later, he was sitting on his couch with the volume on the TV low when Maggie came out and sat next to him. “The nap helped and I’m feeling better.”

“Hungry?”

She nodded. “I could eat.”

Bryce stood and Maggie was going to follow him until he told her he would bring the soup to her. He called to her from the kitchen, “Do you want more tea or ginger ale?”

“Ginger ale, please.”

Bryce carried two glasses into the living room. She took one and smiled. “Fancy.” The glass was decorated with a slice of lemon. “That trick was from a friend in college. Ginger ale with lemon and a pinch of grated ginger.”

Maggie took a sip and smiled. “It has a bit more bite to it.”

Bryce returned with two bowls of chicken soup. After Bryce carried the dishes back to the kitchen and loaded the dishwasher Maggie hugged him. “Thank you for taking care of me today.”

“I was more than happy to. It wasn’t what we planned, but we still spent the day together.” He kissed her forehead. “And you feel normal again.”

Maggie laughed. “You can’t tell that way. You got lucky with guessing this morning.”

“Let’s go back to bed. Hopefully you’ll be well enough to go back to work tomorrow.”

“A sick day when you’re off sucks. But being here together helped.”

Tagging: @choicesficwriterscreations @wackydrabbles @openheartfanfics

Perma - @adiehardfan @chemist-ana @forallthatitsworth @genevievemd @jamespotterthefirst @kalinahonore @liaromancewriter @mia143 @quixoticdreamer16 @schnitzelbutterfingers @shewillreadyou @txemrn

All Open Heart - @coffeeheartaddict @headoverheelsforramsey @lawyerlies @jerzwriter @kiara-36 @storyofmychoices @thegreentwin @uneravine @utterlyinevitable

Open Heart Bryce & Maggie only - @burnsoslow

[scarecrowmax]

Pt 22 to my Emma Lives AU plot requested by regnumveritatis on AO3

Emma hated having Chuck in the bunker, God or not he was annoying and disruptive to the flow of their lives. Plus he never seemed to wash his own dishes and she was half tempted to break his stupid #1 Dad mug over his head. #1 Deadbeat maybe, but #1 Dad he is not, she had only met a few angels for any length of time but she knew enough that he'd royally screwed the lot of them up in one way or another. Cas absolutely felt abandoned by him and would get the same kind of look on his face at times when God was brought up as Dean did when her grandfather was brought up and that told her enough right there. She'd read John's journal and if God was anything like John, then well, a mug would be the least he'd be owed. The main thing that kept her from doing it was the fact that he said he could help them with Amara, and getting rid of her was too important to ruin their chance on that. 

She only felt more off-kilter when Lucifer arrived wearing Cas, if there was any way she could kill him without hurting Cas she would, she hated seeing Cas used like that. She knew he had to have been completely tricked by him. And she could see how Sam flinched any time Lucifer got near him, her dad had told her the basics and she knew not to ask Sam but she wished she knew just what he'd done to her uncle so she didn't risk making it worse when he was dealing with the memories of it all.

Trying to do family therapy with Lucifer and God just felt ridiculous, how do you help them get past all their shit also, how can you possibly fix millennia of abandonment/daddy issues? Lucifer was just throwing barbs and trying to get attention and an apology for the cage and everything else but Chuck wouldn't do it. 

Emma finally interjected, knowing they weren't actually getting anywhere and that direct accusations from a neutral party could help. "You gave Lucifer the mark when you guys sealed up your sister right? Didn't you have some understanding of what that would do? Isn't it your fault he's like this? I mean I read the books, when he was facing Michael in Stull he did say something about you wanting an adversary, was he right about all that?" 

At nearly the same time Lucifer said "Thank you!" And Dean panic asked "You read the books?" aware of just what kinds of things had made it into the ones he'd read when they first discovered them.

"Charlie told me what stuff to avoid before giving them to me, don't worry."

Chuck huffed annoyed, "How could I have known that? I'd never done anything like that, I can only foresee things to a degree based on past knowledge. I just have more knowledge than other people and can see it that way. Definitely didn't foresee you though, would've thought that would go differently."

That last bit hit her like a slap to the face. Did he mean it like he would have expected her to kill her dad or for them to have killed her? Odds are he meant the latter based on how well he knew Sam and her Dad. The rest of the conversation had Lucifer leaving to put on the moody teen act, and Emma took the opportunity to slip away to the kitchen. It was far enough away from both Chuck and Lucifer that she could collect herself. She was losing it just a little and she didn't want to be. Didn't want to think about the fact that God pretty much just said she was supposed to die that day in the motel room. She was supposed to have died at three days old and she couldn't get that out of her head. She really wished Cas was around, he always seemed to know what to say when he caught her after nightmares about that somehow. She could call Benny or Gath, but they probably wouldn't be quite as comforting to talk to about this over the phone as they would be in person. Maybe she could call Jody, but she was probably working and she didn't want to interrupt her. Thankfully Dean chose that moment to walk in. He saw the look on her face and just pulled her in for a hug, she had the back of his flannel fisted in her hand, and was almost in tears.

"It never woulda gone differently kiddo, you're my kid and I love you okay. Always have, always will. Loved you since the moment I saw you in your crib."

That simple statement said it all, he loved her before he even knew for sure she was his. He was her dad, always would be, and would never kill her. Even at his worst, his most demonic, he didn’t do it. Chuck was wrong and she just had to hold onto that, her existence defied God’s knowledge and she was good with that.

It all went to shit again when her dad offered to be the vessel for a soul based bomb to kill Amara. She wanted to scream, couldn’t things be okay for five friggin minutes? Did she have to lose him again? After everything, she knew he blamed himself for her being let out but Emma also blamed herself. She was the one who had pushed Sam to try and find a way to get rid of the mark because she was scared. She was just as culpable as him and if there was any way he'd let her do it she'd be the one going for Amara. Even Crowley and Rowena could tell how much it hurt her to see her dad offering himself up like it was nothing. Charlie, Benny, and Meg weren't there to talk sense into Dean, Sam understood his guilt and was willing to let him do it, Rowena didn't care enough about him to stop him, and Crowley wasn't going to stop him either he just put his hand on Emma's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. If only Cas would just tell him not to do it, Cas could convince him to stop but he didn't say anything. He didn't stop him this time and she felt like her world was ending.

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing she'd ever done, and him joking about what kind of funeral he wanted was too much. 

She knew she'd be safe but him asking her to try and be happy was almost too much. How could she be with a hole in her heart that big? He knew what it was like to lose a parent, how could he be selfish enough to leave her voluntarily. She knew he was destroyed by his dad doing the same, how screwed up Sam had been when Dean made that deal, how could she not be just as messed up by him doing this? His parting words weren't good enough to be his last, no words really could be though. It was gonna feel like she'd been ripped apart no matter what.

 After he left they all scattered a bit. She needed to get out of the bunker, get away from it all for a bit, she left a note for Sam and Cas saying what she was doing and jumped in her car and drove off for Benny's. But it felt like Dean was still there, getting out of the bunker didn't let her escape the memories because they had fixed up her car together, they went on the inaugural drive together, he was everywhere and she knew he was heading off to die. She had to pull off the road because her tears had clouded her eyes too much to safely drive. She wiped away the tears and angrily smacked the wheel wishing things were different, that her dad wasn't about to sacrifice himself. She just wished that everything was different. But it was what it was, and she couldn't change anything. She just hoped being around Benny would help, someone had to tell him what happened at any rate. She’d let Sam make the calls to Jody and the others, she couldn’t handle doing that, telling Benny would be hard enough.

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