#the bathroom sinks will be out for two days -> I can cope. brush teeth in shower method. hand sanitizer provided is gross but no sweat.

[badolmen]

“Thank you for your patience and grace with this situation!” It’s not like I have a fucking choice after paying you fucks a few thousand dollars to live here fulltime.

[thisisourlovestory]

Safe and Sound

Finnick Odair x reader soulmate AU

Summary: you are a victor from district 4. The Quarter Quell has just been announced. How will you cope with the turn of events coming your way.

Wordcount- 3.9k

Notes- okay so this has taken a lot longer than I thought it would but it’s here now finally. And I have changed my url so I’m sorry if you thought this was some random person tagging you

Chapter 6

I woke up the next morning sprawled across my bed and tangled in the sheets. I stumbled up and made my way into the dining area, only bothering to wrap a dressing gown around myself so as to not expose my arms. Unfortunately Lysander greeted me much too cheerfully the second I stepped foot in the room, with a wide grin and loud words.

“Good morning!” He trilled. “Sit, sit and eat. You have an important day ahead of you.” I slumped down into a seat and grabbed an apple, biting into the crisp red skin and sinking my teeth deep into its flesh.

“So what did you get up to with the lovely Megara last night?” He inquired as an avox served him a plate of toast piled with eggs and cheese and ham. I judged his choice in food for a moment and then almost snorted as his words registered in my mind. He certainly wasn't being subtle at all I thought as Finnick and Mags entered and seated themselves. I took another bite out of my apple and grinned.

I stepped out of the bathroom in a pair of silk pyjama shorts and a loose top. Megara was sprawled across my bed, shovelling ice cream into her mouth as fast as physically possible. She noticed me and smacked the bed.

“Sit.” I sat. “Now spill. You and Finnick flipping Odair.” I sighed.

“Pass me a cupcake. No, not that one. No, no, yes. Thanks.” I peeled the case off and bit into it, the rich chocolate and caramel spreading across my tongue. “I found out when I first got it.” I showed her my wrist and she inspected it closely. “We were, well we were friends I suppose. After I won that is. I saw his once, it was an accident. I don’t think anyone else really knows he even had one.” I took another bite of my cupcake. “We kinda stuck together for a couple of years. He helped me through the aftermath and the nightmares and everything.” She looked at me curiously.

“So what happened?”

“Annie Cresta happened. When she won everything changed. You know how the boy she went in with that year was decapitated and she lost it?”

“Everyone knows, though the Capitol tries to brush over it.” I laughed quietly.

“Well when she came back she was absolutely broken. She couldn’t function by herself. So Finnick helped her. At first I knew it was necessary, she probably would have offed herself otherwise, but the days passed to weeks and weeks to months. He had just,” I breathed, “He had just left me and gone to her.”

Megara's mouth opened in a shocked expression.

“You would’ve been fifteen?”

“Almost sixteen.”

“And he just, what, abandoned you?” I shrugged.

“Love is weird. It comes and goes at the most unexpected of times and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.” She placed a hand on her forehead.

“Okay, sorry for interrupting. Please continue.”

“The nightmares came back, I spiralled, I spent I think two months here. Doing shows, staying as far away from them as I could. I mainly talked to Effie and Haymitch.” I smiled fondly. “They were really something. Always bickering and picking at each other like an old married couple. They made me laugh a lot, the only thing I laughed at really. Then it all changed again. But that’s not relevant.” I ignored her look and powered ahead. “I stopped talking to anyone, unless I had to, I wouldn’t say a word. I sang at shows but nothing more. And that was my life I guess. Not happy, not sad. It just was.”

Megara unexpectedly leapt across the bed and engulfed me in a hug.

“I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that.” She pulled away. “I can't imagine if I met my soulmate and then had to pretend like they meant nothing to me.” I smiled back at her sadly.

“Like I said, love is weird. And why would he want me when he has her.” With that I flopped down in bed and curled up in a ball. “Goodnight.”

“We didn't do anything interesting. I ate a bit then fell asleep. I was tired.” I smiled tightly at Lysander, a glint of challenge in my eyes before my gaze slipped to my plate and I took a second bite out of my apple. It tasted like ash in my mouth. “What's on the agenda today?” With that his eyes lit up and he beamed.

“Training.”

As it turned out, training was in fact the only thing on the agenda. I walked into the room and was greeted by the sight of the majority of the other tributes already showing off. My eyes flicked around the room for a second, Finnick was already bothering Katniss, the girl looked extremely unimpressed at him showing her how to tie a knot in the rope and didn't even try to hide her disgusted expression as he pretended to hang himself. I made my own way over to the survival skills section, I immediately picked up two pieces of wood and began to rub them together to little effect. Just as I was about to give up a shadow appeared above me.

“You have to rub quicker, and lower down.” Katniss took the sticks from me and demonstrated. “See.” I nodded slowly.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” With that she turned and made her way to one of the compartmentalised training rooms, grabbing a bow and a sheaf of arrows along the way. I watched from a distance as she put an arrow through each glowing hologram that appeared. I started as I saw one holding an axe and it immediately disintegrated, a small bolt of fear shooting through me. Were they supposed to represent us? My question was answered as another showed up holding a trident and resulted in the same fate. The closer I watched, I could see more similarities between the holograms and all the people stood watching. Johanna and Finnick were obvious, two appearing next to each other and reacting in sync, Cashmere and Gloss, one with long, sharp nails that none of the others had, Enobaria. A really burly one, Brutus and a couple of spindly ones, the morphlings.

Bile rose in my throat as Katniss annihilated them all. Then just as everyone thought the simulation had ended, a final hologram appeared. Smaller and thinner than all the others and it threw a golden blaze at her which she ducked and suddenly an arrow was lodged in it and it dissolved like all the others. It was clear that it was supposed to be. All the movements of the other holograms had been techniques the corresponding victors used in their games, the weapons they were most famed for using. And the Capitol had simply taken those moves and projected them into the simulation. But for me, the only moves I had back then were throwing that one knife and then my shoes. So that was what they had to use. I stayed frozen in my spot as the others stared at Katniss, contemplating looks in their eyes. I could see the cogs turning in their brains, they wanted her as their ally, who wouldn't to be honest. She was the favourite to win at the moment- perhaps also Finnick- and she would get sponsors upon sponsors. I watched her gaze pass over all of them to settle on me; I stared back at her blankly for a moment before she looked over to Peeta who stood watching her from the camouflage station, his arm covered in detailed paintings of rocks and tree bark. He smiled slightly and turned back to his work.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a grinning Finnick.

“Quite the spectacle she's put on wouldn't you say?” He asked and I hummed in response. “She'd be a good ally.” I shrugged.

“I guess.”

“You guess?” He scoffed. “With an aim like that she could take out all of us in a matter of seconds.” My lip quirked upwards at his words. He didn't know just how true they were.

“I suppose, but if she was your ally, one wrong move and you'd be six feet under. But by all means, ally with the girl on fire; when she decides to kill you- don't say I didn't warn you.” I spun on my heel and strode away from him, my shoulder tingled where he had touched me and I felt a tug in my chest at the growing distance. It was as if the more time we spent around each other the more the- well I suppose the word that the Capitol used to describe it was a bond- the more the bond seemed to recognise us as soulmates and tried to drag us together. It was the only reasonable explanation for why he was talking to me.

I walked with my head down, stepping to the side to avoid bumping into other people. I made my way to a station where the two from district 3 had settled themselves at after struggling to light a fire and were fiddling around with wires and bolts. I sat myself down and picked up a few thin pieces of bronze metal. I twisted them together, intricately weaving them in a complicated pattern so they formed a pin of sorts. I twisted my hair up and stuck it through, the metal scraping along my scalp as I shook my head to make sure it was secure.

“The gamemakers won't be too impressed with that.” Beetee spoke quietly from beside me and I made a face.

“I don't really care. They're the ones hiding behind a forcefield.” His gaze sharpened.

“How do you know that?” I shrugged in response.

“The shimmer in the corners. Makes it look a bit like glass but they don't want us to know they're afraid of us and glass is too noticeable. Next best thing is a forcefield, I mean it uses a lot of the energy in this place. Zaps it like,” I snapped my fingers, “that, but most people won't know how to recognise it at all so they can keep up their pretences without worrying about one of us trying to murder them where they stand.”

Beetee stared at you for a second before a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“A scholar I see.”

“Just curious.”

“Not even some adults back home would be able to tell me that.” Beetee murmured. “You've done your research.” I looked up to the gamemakers.

“Well,” I spoke softly, scratching at my wrist absently,”you never know what they'll throw at you and it's always good to be prepared.” He hummed in assent as Wiress tugged on a loose strand of my hair, babbling nonsense under her breath. I gently extracted myself from her fingers and wished them a pleasant day, a hint of sarcasm in my voice, before I left them to fiddle with their little toys.

I found myself wandering through the huge building, mindlessly gazing around. My eyes flitting over the white surfaces, shining brightly in the even whiter light from the ceilings. All of a sudden I heard voices. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion, was that Finnick and Haymitch? Talking to Plutarch Heavensbee? I listened intently, pressing myself against the wall next to the tiny crack in the door to hear better. My eyes gradually widened with each sentence that left their mouths, I couldn't believe it myself, I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't been hearing it directly from the source. They stopped talking and I ran. I sprinted down the corridors and to the lifts, frantically pressing the buttons as I entered and running out just as quickly. I didn't slow down until I slammed the door to my room shut and launched myself onto my bed, clutching a pillow so hard my knuckles started to turn white. They were planning to get Katniss out of the games and start a revolution. A revolution. My mind repeated those words for minutes, my mouth moving to spell it out in disbelief. Slowly the disbelief I felt faded into determination. They clearly hadn’t been about to tell me anything about it, I wouldn’t be included in their alliance. But I could sure as hell help.

Throughout the next couple of days, I woke up as early as possible to train without anyone watching me. I would take my ballet shoes down with me and wear them as I threw knives at the holograms, rise onto my toes and dance around them in circles until my feet were bleeding and bruised. The pain only made me work harder, if I could fight with my feet broken beneath me then I could run forever and wouldn’t feel a thing. On the last day before the games would begin I did the same as I had been. But when I had destroyed the holograms a hundred times over I didn’t stop, I dropped the daggers in my hands and closed my eyes as I spun and leapt. For the first time in years no one was watching me and I could just dance. Even on the train there had been cameras pointed at me but in the interest of not wanting anyone to get mad and try to kill them the gamemakers had left the training room cameraless. So I danced as if I was a child again and my mother was watching me from the door of the house cheering me on. And then I fell. My ankle gave out beneath me and I crashed to the floor. I landed on my side, my arms crossed to hold my head off the floor. I pushed myself up and undid my shoes; pulled them off my feet and stood up. When I fell I had accidentally pressed a button and holograms had appeared again. I reached down to grab the daggers again as they advanced towards me.

“You wanna play?” One of them threw the knife they were holding at me. It skimmed my cheek; I lifted a hand up to touch it. My fingers came away red and I laughed quietly. “Fine, I’ll play.” With that something inside me cracked and I leapt forward. I was like a hurricane as they all rushed at me and I weaved through the gaps leaving bloody footprints wherever I stepped. I rained down blow after blow on them, if holograms could bleed I would have been covered. But they couldn’t bleed and they couldn’t die, they just disintegrated into orange sparks whenever my blade hit home in their rib cages only for more to take their place. I dodged and threw and stabbed until I thought the simulation ended and I stood in the centre of the room. The air moved and in the blink of an eye I spun and struck, the last thing I saw of the hologram was the trident in it's hand. Then I heard the clapping.

I turned around quickly to see Johanna watching me. I quickly stepped outside.

“What do you want?” She grinned.

“Who knew you could fight princess. I’d actually be quite impressed if I didn’t think you’d payed for some poor Capitol bastard to teach you.” A hysterical giggle forced itself out of my throat and for a second an unreadable expression passed over her face like a cloud. I picked up my shoes by the ribbons and let them dangle by my legs as her eyes went to my feet. “Aww did standing up by herself for a moment make the princesses feet hurt?” I swallowed.

“You don’t know me Johanna Mason.” I spat. “You don’t know anything about me so do not make assumptions about things that you do not understand.” She watched me walk away, yelling after me.

“See you later princess.” I ignored her, focusing on not leaving a trail of blood back to the room.

A few hours later, after I had bandaged up my feet, I headed back down for the evaluations. The others were already there and I sat down at the end of a bench. Feeling eyes on me I looked up and locked eyes with Katniss, she stood up and made her way over to me. She sat down silently and I looked at the pin she had on her top.

“A mockingjay.” She looked up at me surprised.

“Yeah. How did you know?” I laughed.

“Some members of the Capitol have them as pets. Ones they managed to catch after the jabberjays bred with mockingbirds. They domesticated them and have them sing all day every day.” My voice turned sharp. “They don’t like being reminded of their failures so they turn them into spectacles.” My head turned as the robotic voice spoke ‘Y/N L/N report for evaluation.’ I stood up slowly and walked past Finnick who was exiting and into the training room. I was greeted by the sight of the gamemakers laughing and talking with each other, completely ignoring my presence as I made my way over to the weapons stand. One of them spared me a glance before dismissing me. They knew who I was and they didn’t think I was a threat. I took a step forward, narrowing my eyes and realised something. The force field was strong if it was concentrated, but it was only being held together by four balls that it was projected out of, one in each corner creating a screen. So it was strong at the outside but where it all met in the centre would be weaker. I grinned at my revelation and practically skipped back to the table with the knives on. I picked one up and balanced it on my finger, I quickly looked around and grabbed a long piece of rope, tying it around the handle. I twisted the end of the rope around one hand and pirouetted, as my head whipped to the front I let the knife fly through the air, right through the centre of the forcefield. It embedded itself in a piece of watermelon and then the wall. I gripped the rope harder and yanked towards me, I caught the knife and raised the dripping red fruit up to my mouth to take a bite as I curtseyed deeply, dipping my head and letting my foot slide as far behind as possible. I smiled sweetly at their horrified expressions. You can almost see the thoughts running through their heads I mused as I walked calmly out of the room, head held high.

I was waylaid by Lysander who dragged me back to the room and made Finnick and I sit until the scoring was announced hours later, I was almost falling asleep in my chair. Yawning widely and eyes drooping until the music sounded and I bolted up. The second Gloss’ photo appeared on screen with a score of 10 flashing under him my heart sank. My little outburst would probably not have gained me anything other than a low score. The rest of the careers had predicatably high scores, Brutus an 11 and Finnick the same. Lysander screeched happily at his score, patting him on the back furiously and I murmured my congratulations. Then it was my turn. My face appeared on the screen and a bright bold number 12 flashed underneath it. I spat out my water in shock and blinked rapidly as Lysander gaped at the screen. Mags patted me gently on the shoulder, giving me a small smile; Finnick leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.

“Congratulations angel.” The nickname shook me out of my trance.

“Angel?” He shrugged and gave me an easy smile.

“Yeah, you looked like an angel on the chariots and you certainly act like an angel, especially with that little girl.” His voice turned serious. “But something tells me you aren’t such an angel as everyone thinks you are.” My lip twitched and I forced it to stay in a straight line.

“Maybe you’re right.” I turned around, my back to him, his eyes searing into my skin as I whispered. “But some things cannot be determined with a passing glance.”

The next day was the day of the interviews. I was slumped in a chair, clad in a silk robe, as my prep team scoured my body. They perfected every imperfection they could find until my skin was like a blank canvas. All the while they chattered, asking me not so subtly about my evaluation score and even less subtly if I had a soulmate- thankfully they didn’t question my insistency that I covered my wrist while they ‘cleaned me up’. I ignored them for the most part until Priscilla began to waffle on about Finnick. I clenched my fists and tried to block her out, waiting for her to finish. But she wouldn't stop, she went on and on about him, his… relationships with Capitol women and then what a shame it was that he might die. My fingernails dug crescent moons into my palms until I felt pinpricks of pain and saw tiny specks of blood beading on my skin. I settled for fiddling with the robe until they left. The girls walked through the door giggling with each other as Quintus turned around to me.

“I understand how you feel.”

“What?” I asked confused.

“You have a soulmate yes?” I nodded slowly. “But he either doesn’t want you or doesn’t know about you.” I nodded again.

“The second.”

“I had a soulmate once.”

“You did?” I mumbled.

“It was about 15 years ago. I had just started working here for the games and she was a tribute.” He laughed slightly and ran his hand through his hair. “She hated me, I tried to get her to run away with me before the games could start but she wouldn’t let the kid from her district die even if it meant she lived. They only lasted 5 days in the arena.” He smiled sadly. “But those last couple of days she was alive and I got to see her were the best couple of days in my life.”

“What are you saying?” I whispered.

“Don’t waste time. Every second with the ones we love is precious.” Just as suddenly as he had begun the conversation he left the doorway, leaving me in silence.

Soon enough Megara came in, laden with bags upon bags containing god knows what. She dragged a chair over and sat down opposite me. She pulled out a teapot and two cups before setting them down on the table ignoring my incredulous look. She poured tea into the two cups added a splash of milk and sugar to one and gave me an inquisitive look. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I poured milk into the cup and spooned 3 teaspoons of sugar into the cup.

“So honey, how are you feeling about the interviews?”

“Honey? Aren’t you younger than me.”

“Nope,” she popped the p,” I’m 24.” I sighed.

“They can only go so badly right.” She grinned; took a sip of her tea, placed it down, stood up and walked over to a huge bag hung up on the door.

“I suppose we’ll see then.” She unzipped the bag and I gasped.

Taglist:

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[romanscool]

here's everything you need to know about me!

hi! my name's roman (she/they), and I'm a yapper. absolutely love to yap on here and on ao3, where I've only posted maxiel content yet (im a little obsessed with them.)

I've sorted everything for y'all to find what you want to find in four categories: 1- WORKS, 2- WIPs (work in progress), 3- TUMBLR FICS, 4- TAGS

1- WORKS:

which could mean nothing (but does it ever?): completed

-> F1 RPF - Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo - Rated: E - 90k

« Wanna dance Maxy? » Daniel lets out in a breath. He’s panting, body overworked from dancing after a full day’s of racing, and the sound is sweet to Max’s brain. Makes him want to hear it again. OR - Max trying to cope with the feelings he's been developing for Daniel since 2016.

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10, chapter 11, chapter 12, chapter 13, chapter 14, chapter 15, chapter 16, chapter 17, chapter 18

a whisper of what once was: completed -> F1 RPF - Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo - Rated: E - 9k Max likes that he’s been noticing little things about Daniel everyday. He feels a bit like a creep, like he’s keeping a little journal of everything Daniel does, but. He still does it. He’s been noticing Daniel has a little routine when it comes to brushing his teeth. It’s usually pretty normal while he does the brushing, besides the violent rage he inflicts on the bristles, but it’s after that it gets fun. Daniel always shakes the water two times in his mouth before spitting it out. He rinses the sink three times. Never uses a towel or anything to brush off the remaining toothpaste around his mouth, just kinds of passes his forearm over it hastily. Max has to clean him a second time often. He kisses the white spots like they were never even here today, too. It just feels weird that he’s allowed to do that in the bathroom he’s used since before he can remember. OR some fluffy post 'which could mean nothing' max and daniel spending christmas in the netherlands 1 chapter: a wcmn (bdie?) epilogue

dinner is served : WIP

-> F1 RPF - Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo - Rated: E - 5k

Max blinks a couple times. Doesn’t answer. Just dives right in, licking stripes across Daniel’s pussy like it’s the only thing she’s ever wanted to do in her life. « Fuck, Max-, not even-, » It’s hard to come up with a joke when Max fucking Verstappen is eating you out, but Daniel kind of feels lie she has to. She’s still feeling lingering nervousness at this being her first time ever with another girl. « not even gonna take me out to dinner first? »   Max pulls off. She grins a little. « This is dinner. » and just laughs. Daniel does too. This is stupid. She should’ve seen it coming. It’s such a bad joke but Daniel can see Max’s abs contracting under the little layer of fat, and her tits bounce a bit, in a mesmerizing up and down that’s definitely turning Daniel on, and she’s glad Max’s eyes are closed because if they weren’t she would probably be able to see slick dripping down Daniel’s pussy.   « Yeah, okay. » Daniel’s back hits the bed. It makes a creaky hotel-room-bed sound. « Knock yourself out, then. »

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3

2- WIPs

this is new to me, too:

-> F1 RPF - Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo - Rated: E

tags: teen!maxiel, high school band AU, trans!max

basically, just some cute shit and what ifs including maxiel meeting when they were teens in an alternate universe where they both sign up for band,,,

which should mean nothing (but it always does):

-> F1 RPF -Max Verstappen/Daniel Ricciardo - Rated: E

tags: idiots in love (yes that's maxiel), unreliable narrator (that one is all daniel though), mental health issues, miscommunication, angst with a happy ending

3- TUMBLR FICS

this can all be very neatly found in this tag: kiss prompt

4- TAGS

i have PLENTY of tags, but here are a couple that are pretty symbolic to me,,,

teeth, fic rec, fanart rec

that's all, thanks so much for taking an interest in my blog!! enjoy

lots of love, roman <3

[grey-sides]

hey greye! i hope you are doing good during this break you’re taking! if you’re writing again, i cant stop thinking about steve and billy already settled in a relationship, and one of them has something they use daily like a shirt/mug/comb/scarf etc from an ex, but the other doesn’t even realise until one day they make an off hand comment or something… up to you if you wanna write angst or fluff, i just liked the concept of these boys just being a lil dumb :)

Hi anon!! It is me again, here to respond to the prompts I have allowed to languish in my inbox!

So! This is angsty, although the boys aren't particularly dumb and it's uh...well, it's kind of your prompt! I hope you enjoy it either way, I think I slapped with this one tbh.

Steve notices it when they’ve been living together for about two years. Which isn’t to say he never noticed before, but there’s something about living with someone for two years that makes you really notice them. 

It’s probably because at a certain point, Steve felt like they could slow down. He could just watch Billy sometimes, appreciate how he does things, stare at him when he’s going about his day. Mundane little things, who he is as a person. Steve likes having the time to watch him. 

Billy uses the same pink scrunchie to tie up his hair when he needs to wash his face. It’s faded and the elastic seems to be going at this point. Steve had bought a new set of scrunchies and slipped them into Billy’s drawer in the bathroom, but he never uses them. They’re just shoved to the back of the drawer, lonely and forgotten. 

Steve is laying in bed, watching Billy tie his hair up in front of the bathroom mirror. Same scrunchie, wrapped three times now to make up for the elastic not being very…elastic. 

“I got you new ones you know,” Steve calls, he’s on his front, their small TV playing reruns of MASH. 

“I know,” Billy replies mildly, turning the sink on. It has to run for a couple minutes to get warm. “This one gets the job done.” 

Steve turns down the volume on the TV and tosses the remote to the side. He rests his cheek on his hand and watches Billy duck down to get his face wet. “Did that belong to like an ex of yours or something and you have fond memories when you look at it?”

Billy pauses and his back tenses up under his shirt. He doesn’t respond, but Steve can see his eyes are closed in the mirror and he has water dripping down his face. He looks like he’s counting his breaths. 

Steve shifts on the bed, swinging his legs around instead so he can step down from it and approach Billy. He’s hit a nerve and while Billy can lash out, he’s gotten much better at not doing that with Steve. 

“It didn’t belong to an ex,” Billy finally says as he grabs his face wash. Before they moved in together, Steve was just using hand soap and Billy had almost broken up with him about it. 

Steve nods a little and with the way it’s making Billy tense up to draw attention to the scrunchie, well now he has to know. It’s all part of coping, Steve has discovered, to talk about the things that are difficult so they can become less difficult. 

“Your mom then?”

“No.” 

Billy’s tone leaves no room for argument so Steve steps over to dig his boar-bristle brush out of his drawer. He stands in front of his sink and starts to work the hairspray out of his hair, so it won’t be a disaster when he wakes up in the morning. 

Billy is studiously washing his face beside Steve, focusing on his reflection, taking care of each pore. He’s silent, but Steve can feel him thinking, deciding what he wants to say. Steve lets it happen, gives him the space to figure out what’s on his mind. 

Steve brushes through all of his hair and manages to brush his teeth before Billy speaks again. His voice is quiet, rough when he does. 

“It was Heather’s,” he mutters, leaning on the sink. The scrunchie is out of his hair, twisted around his wrist, his back is bowed and he looks distraught. 

Steve feels bad for asking about it, wishes he were better about keeping his mouth shut. But maybe Billy wants to talk about it? Because he’s even better at the silent treatment than Nancy was, so usually that means he wants to talk about it. Steve puts down the floss and goes quiet. 

Billy pulls the faded pink scrunchie off his wrist and crushes it in his hand. It looks like it’s crushed velvet, probably soft to the touch, but faded after all these years. He opens his drawer and sticks the scrunchie inside, turning on his heel. 

Steve watches him walk back into the bedroom and shut off the television, cutting Hawkeye off. He climbs into bed and sits cross-legged, staring down at his hands. 

“I know it’s not my fault,” Billy says quietly. “What happened to Heather. And I know there was nothing I could have done, even if I put a fucking bullet in my head, that Thing would have pulled it right back out, but.”

He pauses and Steve slowly climbs on the bed to sit next to Billy. He doesn’t touch him, knows Billy will reach out if that’s what he needs. But Steve sits, silent, eyes wide as he looks at Billy. The bedroom is dark save for Steve’s bedside lamp, it feels fitting for this conversation. 

“But when I was sitting there, in the back of my own mind, staring at my own hands, dragging her into it and then knowing what would happen to her, it doesn’t matter that it wasn’t my fault.” Billy clenches his jaw, curling his left hand into a fist. He keeps going. 

“It was like…watching my dad hit my mom and not being able to do anything. Or- or watching myself, actually me, threaten the Sinclair kid and hitting you because that’s what a man does, right?”

This is about so much more than Heather, Steve realizes. This is another moment where Billy needs to process what happened with the Mindflayer and his dad. He puts his hand between them, palm up so Billy can take it. 

Billy does, lacing their fingers together and squeezing Steve’s hand tightly. He swallows hard and shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “Since her parents died too, it’s like that scrunchie is all that’s left of Heather and I…I don’t want to forget. Because she was a person.”

Steve nods and scoots just a bit closer, so their knees touch too. He rubs his thumb along Billy’s knuckles, scarred from being split so many times. Rage etched in every line, the way his middle knuckle will always look a little wonky because he broke it punching someone in the nose. 

There is violence here, but on the other side his palms are soft from the products he puts on his face. And there are still people who see Billy Hargrove and they duck their heads out of fear, but Steve knows about the faded pink scrunchie in their bathroom and he knows who Billy is. 

Billy is still young at heart and scared of getting it wrong. Being the wrong kind of man. Being the wrong kind of lover. Forgetting Heather Holloway, the girl who was just trying to help. 

“She was a person,” Steve says at last, knowing he can’t say ‘it’s okay’ or ‘I’m sorry’ because none of that means anything. “I think she would find it sweet you kept her scrunchie.”

Billy looks down and he nods, just a quick thing, a tear falls down his cheek onto the comforter. “She was a good person.” He tugs on Steve’s hand. 

Steve gets the memo and folds himself along Billy’s back, holding him close. He hooks his chin over Billy’s shoulder and squeezes his hand, closing his eyes while Billy shakes beneath him. “She was.”

Billy has a faded pink scrunchie in their bathroom and Steve has grey hair already at his temples. They both come awake to nightmares and sometimes Billy goes totally silent, just staring at the wall. 

There is violence written into his skin, from the scars left by hands that never knew kindness, but he smells of Old Spice aftershave and his palms are soft. And Steve holds him together when his stitches cannot hold themselves. Billy Hargrove keeps a faded pink scrunchie in the bathroom and Steve swears if he lifts it close enough to his face, he can still smell a trace of chlorine and Chanel No 5. 

[lucy90712]

morning sickness (pregnancy series)

⚠️emetophobia warning⚠️ a/n: sorry for the lack of posts I’ve been away with awful WiFi 

Series masterlist

George:

The sickness throughout the first part of my pregnancy has been awful and has lasted all of the first trimester and into the second trimester. Every morning I wake up feeling so nauseous and throw up most days not really for any real reason. George has been so good and will try his best to take care of me.

This morning I woke up feeling extra nauseous from the second I opened my eyes so I knew it would be a bad day which happens sometimes but it isn't any fun thats for sure. I felt so awful that I couldn't move but at the same time I really needed to try and eat and drink something to make me feel a little better which is a constant battle that I have with myself.

I stayed in bed until the nausea took over and I had to quickly move George's arm off me so that I could run to the bathroom. I threw up more than I ever thought I could before resting against the sink to regain some composure even though I still felt awful. I threw up again before George came in still half asleep but concerned.

"Are you doing ok?" He asked even though he knew the answer

"Not really" I replied

"How many times have you been sick?" He asked

"Two so far" I answered

He got down on the floor with me and rubbed my back for a minute before going to go and get water for me to sip like he always does. I rested my head on his shoulder and just let him hold me which was the only thing that seemed to help me feel a little better.

When I recovered a little bit we went downstairs so that I could try and eat something but as soon as we got to the kitchen just the smell of the cat made all the nausea come flooding back so I went right back to the bathroom and threw up again. It's is going to be one of those awful days again.

Dream:

I have been so lucky that I haven't really felt too nauseous but there are some days especially at the moment where I feel quick sick. On one of those days like today I normally stay in bed or on the sofa doing nothing under strict orders from Clay who won't let me push myself too far because he wants me to take care fo myself.

This morning I curled up to Clay while he was still asleep because I was feeling pretty bad and he makes me feel better even if its all in my head. He woke up as I moved closer to him and looked at me to see what I was doing.

"You ok there?" He asked

"I feel sick" I replied

"Do you think you are going to throw up or just feel sick?" He asked

"I probably won't throw up but I feel pretty bad" I said

That was enough for him and he lifted me up carrying me to the living room and putting me down on the sofa before going to the kitchen where he came back with water. Which he gave me as he got on the sofa behind he so that he could cuddle me.

We spent the whole day cuddled together on the sofa watching films and Clay cancelled his plans for the day or pushed them back until this evening so that he could take care of me.

Sapnap:

I have struggled so much with sickness throughout the pregnancy so far an not even just nausea I throw up multiple times a day. It's awful and just so exhausting but I can't sleep because I feel so sick which is just the worst endless cycle. Sapnap tries his best to help me and be there for me but he hates watching people throw up which I understand but he is there for me when I'm not throwing up.

This morning I was doing pretty good and hadn't thrown up yet and I've been up for about 45 minutes which is quite unusual for me I have even made myself some breakfast which normally makes me throw up but maybe I'm slowly getting over this sickness. I went to wash the dishes but as soon as I got the washing up liquid open the smell sent me right back to my constant state of sickness.

I ran to the bathroom and threw up all the breakfast I just ate and more which just doesn't seem possible but somehow it is. Sapnap came into the bathroom after watching me run from the kitchen he knew what was happening but he had heard me saying only minutes prior that I felt better today so he knew I would be upset.

"Oh babe I'm sorry" he said sitting down and rub my back

"Why do I have to be sick all the time why can't I just feel better" I sobbed

"I don't know but what I do know is that you are doing such a good job at coping with it and being strong I could never live with this but here you are" he comforted

Sapnap sat with me the rest of the day even when I was throwing up because he knew it was just one of those days where I was really feeling it and he cared more about making me feel better then having to watch me throw up.

Quackity:

I have been so lucky with my pregnancy that I really haven't had any sickness at all I mean sometimes some things will make me feel nauseous but never very bad at all but for some reason today that has changed and I woke up feeling really sick for no apparent reason. I tried getting up to see if getting up and getting on with things would help the sickness to subside but it really didn't at all work if anything I felt worse.

Nothing is helping this sickness either. I have tried everything that google or other people recommend but it isn't helping. Alex has been trying to help too by distracting me to take the edge off which is sweet of him but it wasn't helping a whole lot. He gathered that distractions weren't going to work and so he made me go back to bed so that we could cuddle and watch a movie.

"Just relax love we can have a lazy day and forget about everything else I just want you to feel better" he said

"Thank you Alex but you can leave me if you have something to do" I said

All he did was shake his head and hold onto be tighter which gave me my answer to if he was going to leave me.

Karl:

It's been a bit up and down throughout my pregnancy in term of sickness, some days I feel quite sick and others I'm fine and it doesn't really have a pattern it just really depends on the day. Today happens to be one of the days that I don't feel great after going a good week and a half of feeling good.

Karl got up with me this morning to make breakfast for the both of us as well as get me the things that usually make me feel a little better which I have discovered after trying about a million things on the days I was feeling extra bad. He gave me sprite and tic tacs because both of those things work for me which I had while he ate breakfast while mine was on the side away from me so the smell didn't make me feel worse.

For the whole day Karl was so attentive and barely left my side so that he could take care of me and when he did have to go somewhere he took me with him so that he wasn't far from me at all times.

Wilbur:

I haven't really felt sick since before I found out about the pregnancy which has been so nice and I know I'm very lucky because a lot of people feel very sick for quite a long time. I have been able to eat all the things I normally would without anything making me feel ill which has made me very happy.

Tonight I'm making dinner for Wilbur and I and I had a tomato which I was cutting up and for some reason it made me feel very sick all of a sudden. I tried to keep going hoping it would go away but it got worse and I felt like I was going to throw up. I ran out of the kitchen and to the bathroom only just making it before I threw up.

Wilbur came into the bathroom seconds later and pulled my hair out of my face and rubbed my back until I was done. He got me some water and let me brush my teeth before picking me up and putting me on the sofa to sit down while he finished making dinner for us. It was weird because I could eat the tomato but the smell of preparing it was too much but it was kind of worth it because the meal was very nice.

From then on Wilbur said he was going to make dinner to avoid that happening again because he knows how much I hate throwing up and he didn't want me to if there was something he could do about it.

[marvelfansince08love]

Hey Neighbour! - Part 8

Word Count: 3k

Pairing: Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader 

Warning: uhh some implications of sex 

A/N: Hi, a big big sorry to you all on the late updates to this. I have no self control and have far too many WIP rn and keep forgetting to update this one as I’ve almost finished it! Happy reading! Apologise for any grammar/spelling mistakes x

Tags: @waitingfortheendtocome @natasha-danvers @creepingwolfberry @coconutlipss @saucy-sapphic @minavenable @pearplate @r0an0ke @mssallymckenna @grilledcheeseandguavajelly @venablemayfairgoode @chewbacca0805 @pluied-ete @supremeinlilac @nyx-aira @witchxaf @black--widxw @fireflyglass @cordeliafoxxe @d14n4ol @bluevelvetbitxh @amethyst-bitch @lezzzbehonesthere @msvenablezcane @citizenoftheworld-stuff-blog @mooreashes @violentwavesofem0tion @cordeliass  @women-am-i-right @paulsonpills @goodeday2u @sm0ke-and-m1rr0rs @daisybri7

Hey Neighbour! - Part 8 

You had avoided the Mayfair-Richards home for the past five days unable to face the woman you had fallen in love with. Old wounds and insecurities had opened up causing you to retreat from your neighbours, Amelia had also picked up on your change of mood which caused the guilt to amplify. The two young children still saw each other at school leading Amelia to mention how Oz had told her how sad his mother looked whenever she did the dishes at night, to anyone else they would have been bewildered by the statement but for you it was like a stab to the heart. Ally had tried to call and text you to ask if you were okay, your short texts back and actively declining calls must have given her the hint that you didn’t want to be contacted because after the first three days she stopped trying. You hated yourself for doing this to her but you couldn’t help but fall back into the familiar withdrawal habit whenever you felt this way, no matter who you hurt in the process. 

“Mama, I’m finished!” Amelia announces, smiling proudly at her empty plate. You’re startled out of your thoughts as you look towards her matching her wide smile with a forced one. Your brother sits next to her as his eyes stay fixated on your form, concern evident within his gaze. 

“Well done, Amelia-cakes! Why don’t you go wash your hands and brush your teeth for bed,” you instruct softly, watching as she nods and dashes out of the room. You quickly make eye contact with him as you lean forward keeping your voice low so to not alert Amelia of the intense situation..

“I wish you would stop looking at me like that,” you whisper harshly, he only shakes his head mutely before responding. 

“I just don’t understand why you’re making yourself and her miserable, you clearly like each other a lot. Don’t ruin this just because you’re allowing your negative thoughts to take over,” his voice soft and gentle causing you to falter, expecting a harsher response. Sighing you relax back before taking a sip from the wine glass. 

“Will you please help Amelia upstairs while I clean up here?” you ask instead, attempting to avoid the current topic of conversation. He sighs in defeat before dutifully leaving the room to find his niece. 

You stand from your chair and collect the empty plates before moving towards the sink, as you begin to clean the dishes you notice a slightly dimmed light across the way causing you to tense, slowly you look up from your task and towards the light. Ally stands at her kitchen counter, even from here you can see how tired she looks causing that familiar guilt to creep up into your chest once more. She looks down for a few moments before placing a large piece of paper into the window, words written in black ink for you to read. 

‘I think we need to talk’ The words cause you to gulp as you nod back before searching for some spare paper to write back on. 

‘Garden in ten?’ you try to smile hoping to ease the situation but falter when she doesn’t return it and only nods back in acknowledgment. 

Wiping your hands on a dry towel you hurriedly move upstairs to inform your brother of your plan, he reassures you that he’ll be fine with Amelia while you go to talk to Ally giving you an encouraging smile before shoving you back towards the staircase. Grabbing your thick jacket and shoes you make your way towards the front of Ally’s home, waiting patiently for her to let you in. Your breath catches in your throat as you take her in, the urge to reach out and hold her becoming stronger with each passing second, brown tired eyes scan your face before silently standing to the side allowing you to move in. You head straight for the kitchen and into the garden area sitting down in your usual spot, you wait for her to join you. A hot cocoa mug appears in front of your view causing you to smile sadly as you take it from her hands muttering a quick ‘thank you’. It’s quiet and dark out except for the porch light that glows above you, both sitting quietly as you take a sip of the hot drink.

“Ally I-” 

“Why weren’t you honest with me? If there was something wrong you should have told me instead of practically falling off the face of the earth,” her statement catches you off guard, causing you to falter as you stare at the mug in your hand. 

“After she left me and Amelia I was struggling for a while, I couldn’t cope with working and looking after a baby full time but I had this beautiful girl to look out for so she became my top priority over everything, my job, my friends. It took me years before I could trust others outside of my family to take care of her. I’m not good at having these healthy relationships that are good for me and I am so sorry that I’ve treated you this way, you deserve better than this,” you mutter, tears gathering within your blurred vision.

“I understand how hard it can be to trust people, I mean you know about Ivy and how she betrayed me, betrayed Oz. I get why you got scared when things were looking serious, I’ve had my moments with that too but Y/N I’m not like her and you aren’t like Ivy.” She pauses, collecting her thoughts before continuing. 

“We are good people and I don’t think it was a coincidence that it was you who so happened to move in next door… that night after the fair apart from Oz I’ve never been so certain about anything in my life, I want to be with you and I want this to go somewhere but I need you to speak to me and be honest with me,” Ally tilts her head as if seeking your gaze before reaching across and grabbing your hand. 

“I’m so so sorry, Ally. I should have spoken to you about my worries, I’m not used to someone caring. I just looked at how comfortable we all were in your kitchen that morning, how domestic it all was and my god I couldn’t have fallen further for you but my mind was screaming at me that if I allowed Amelia to become closer to you and you decided to leave… I can’t have another person walk out on her.. On me,” you stutter over your words as you feel your throat tighten, holding back a sob. Ally moves from her seat and crouches in front of you placing your mug onto the table she takes both your hands into her own, squeezing them with reassurance. 

“I love you y/n. This week has been tortuous the amount of times I thought about walking over and forcing you to speak to me, but I knew you needed time to collect your thoughts. I may not have been obvious with it but I could tell something had spooked you that morning but please come and talk to me whenever you feel trapped into a corner, okay?” her dark brows arch, as she waits for your response. As you nod Ally reaches upwards and captures your salty lips with her own, her warm comforting hands cupping your face in place. 

Tears continue to fall between you both as Ally presses gentle kisses along your jaw and cheeks seeking out that comforting touch, you realise that you were wrong. Ally isn’t like the rest of them, she’s kind and caring but most of all she understands you in a way that no one else can relate to. You quickly capture her lips, a heated kiss needing to feel her close. 

“Is Oz upstairs?” 

“No, he’s staying at a friends house,” she mumbles, against your lips. Pulling back you look into her slightly glazed eyes and demand the thing you need most. 

“Take me to bed, Ally.” 

With that, Ally grabs your hand and leads you back inside the house. The moonlight glows throughout the room giving you a clear view of Ally’s face as you allow her to look after you, whispering soft reassurances against your exposed skin leaving trails of wet kisses along your body, closing your eyes you surrender yourself to this woman finally allowing yourself to be loved without restrictions. 

***

Bright light beams through into the bedroom causing you to stir and groan at the invasive light cuddling into the softness of Ally’s chest enjoying her warmth and secure form wrapped around you. Lips graze against your hair as the brunette whispers a ‘Good Morning’ causing you to smile as you watch her fingers brush over your forearm that has stayed wrapped around her waist all night. 

“Good Morning, Honey. Did you sleep well?” your fake-innocence doesn’t pass Ally as she chuckles deeply, her hand moving to tilt your chin upwards causing your lips to brush against her swollen ones. 

“Deliciously actually,” her hoarse voice, makes you shiver before you capture her lips once more enjoying the sounds that escape her throat. 

The sound of the front door opening downstairs and quick footsteps making their way upstairs causes you to part suddenly, blindly reaching for your scattered clothes recognizing those footsteps from anywhere. 

“Mom!!” Oz’s voice shouts from the hallway, causing you to quickly cover up and head for the en-suite bathroom needing to freshen up before the poor boy sees you. Ally’s eyes follow after your retreating form in light amusement as she tucks on the woolly jumper and ties the string around her joggers. 

“Mom I’m home! We had such a cool night! Jeremy bought over his new racing car you know the one with the remote it was awesome!” Oz’s excited voice trails into the room as he runs straight for Ally’s legs hugging her tightly, she places her hands on top of his crazy blonde curls and smiles.

“Well it certainly sounds like you had fun! So where is Sam’s mom? You didn’t just run from her car without saying thank you did you?” Ally’s tone makes you smile as you peak through the gap of the bathroom door always infatuated with her motherly side. Oz tries to hide his expression but with one raised eyebrow from Ally the boy slumps and sighs before nodding. 

“It’s okay Ally! He was just excited to see you! Oz I’ve left your bag by the door okay,” Sam’s mom shouts from the staircase before the sound of the front door closing reaches your ears. Taking this as your cue you leave the bathroom just as the sound of screeching reaches your ears, a small body colliding with your own making you stumble. 

“Woah! Hey Buddy!” you greet with a groan, laughing as you place you cup your hand around his jaw cradling him close. A sense of guilt lingering within your chest, the realisation what your actions could have done to the poor boy being the same fear you have for Amelia. 

“I’ve missed you,” he mumbles into your stomach, you crouch to be eye level with him and give him the biggest smile you could muster. 

“I’m sorry for not being around much, silly adults and silly work has been keeping me busy. I promise to make it up to you,” you murmur, watching as he nods accepting your apology before turning to leave to grab his backpack from downstairs. You stand from your position and fold your arms across your chest, that unsettling feeling still present, Ally steps towards you and places her hands onto your cheeks before kissing your lips. 

“Stop, I can practically hear the gears turning in that beautiful head of yours. Now let’s go downstairs. I want to see my girl.” Her words cause you to raise a question eyebrow as your lips twitch into a half grin. 

“Oh?”

Ally grins wickedly, before stepping towards the door. “I meant Amelia silly.”

With that she winks and takes her leave leaving you agape. 

“Well I know my place then,” you grumble playfully before running after the mischievous Senator. 

As if on cue the sound of the front door stops you both in your tracks midway down the stairs, Ally moves to answer the door and beams when she sees Amelia stood with her Uncle who has a very dirty grin on his face as his eyes move from Ally to you wiggling his brows as Ally crouches down and fronds over Amelia who seems to be enjoying the attention from her favourite person. 

“Uncle Rupert said you guys had a sleepover without me, Ms. Ally!” she exclaims, a small pout forming onto her lips and you bite your own to stop your laughter. From the shakes coming from Ally’s shoulder the woman seems to be doing the same. 

“Oh sweetheart I’m so sorry, I promise we can have soon okay? Just me and your mom needed to have a grown-up sleepover to talk.” 

“Yeah I bet you did,” Rupert mumbles, amusement evident within his tone. You glare at him from your position as Oz comes running from the living room area, he instantly goes to hug his friend as he drags her further into the house telling her all about his sleepover. Rupert waits by the door as Ally gives him a shy hello before following the two leaving you to talk privately to the smug man.

“Not a word,” you demand, making sure to punctuate every word, it only seems to make him grin further. He shrugs putting his hands up in surrender as he steps through the door meeting you at the bottom of the staircase. 

“So are we back on then? Oh and no need to thank me for looking after the devil's spawn last night, I swear she just knows what to do to make me crumble. I didn’t even know you still owned a Nintendo Wii,” he rants, as you both walk towards the kitchen where Ally sits with the two children all drinking from their respective mugs. Rupert goes to sit next to Amelia as he steals her mug to take a sip as she glares at him. You shake your head at the two before clashing eyes with Ally who winks over her mug gesturing you over which you gladly do. Stood behind her you wrap your arms around her shoulders and listen as they all converse amongst themselves enjoying these rare moments that you will hold dearly, smiling you kiss Ally’s temple before relaxing joining in on the conversation. 

Now relaxed you allow the past to stay at the back of your mind as you look forward to the future, a secret plan up your sleeve you allow the details to rail off within your head excited to show Ally just how much she means to you and how do you do that?

By going official, of course.

[virunathestarbaby]

Day 5 - Night Routine

Day: Day 5- Night Routine

Fandom: Death Note

Pairings: Matsuda Touta x Kotobuki Otoha (OC)

Warnings: Slight nsfw (Matsuda getting a boner- that's it really)

Word count: 1299

Song I associate with this chapter:

((I'm coping with my sleep deprivation with these prompts. Also using these to help me sleep at night qwq))

Exiting the shower, Matsuda grabbed his towel and wrapped it around his lower half before grabbing another one and using it to dry his damp hair as he walked over to the sink. Otoha who was also there had a towel wrapped around her body and hair and was busy doing her skincare routine and was in the process of putting some sort of facemask on, her phone blasting some music on shuffle.

Matsuda couldn't help but grin when he saw her dancing a little to the beat of some American song he didn't understand, but the tune was catchy and he liked it. "Hey there, miss gorgeous." He greeted, looking at her through the mirror before brushing his teeth.

"Hey there yourself, mister handsome." She smirked, giving him a side glance as she applied some cream on her face.

He only smiled more at her in response as he continued with what he was doing. After he was finished brushing his teeth, he leant closer to the mirror, touching and feeling at his chin as he contemplated if he should shave now or later in the morning when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Would you like to try this?" Otoha asked him, holding up her facial cream.

"Hmm? What's this?" He asked in turn, taking the small container in her hand and inspecting it.

"Facial cream. It's made of some papaya extract and some other stuff and it's really good for your skin." She answered and he sniffed at the product.

"Smells nice."

"Of course it does, " She rolled her eyes, "Wanna try it? I see you putting some skin cleanser sometimes and this is mostly the same as well. "

Shrugging, he gave her back the container and nodded, "Sure, why not?"

Otoha squealed, clapping her hands as she bounced in place before exiting the bathroom and coming back later with a chair. "Sit, sit, sit!"

"Why do I need to sit? It's not like this is gonna take long, right?" He asked and she laughed.

"Honey, why do you think I take so long in the bathroom sometimes?"

"...Cause the water's nice and the bath is relaxing?" He guessed.

"Well— true…but also because skin care can simply not be rushed. I need to put some other stuff on you before the facial cream." She replied.

Face paling, he somehow regretted his decision now.

"Eee!! This is exciting! I've always wanted to share this stuff with you but you always seem to be in a hurry to sleep." She grinned, picking on some of the beauty care products on the sink. "I mean I don't blame you though, Aizawa seems to be slaving you with how much work he's giving you. But still! EEE!!! SKINCARE WITH MY LOVE!!"

Well, then. He now no longer regrets agreeing. Seeing her so happy about doing this activity with him made his heart flutter and his stomach did small flips.

"Okay! This first." Otoha announced, holding the first product up and tilted his head up a little since he was now a bit shorter when he sat down. "Tilt your head up, love." She then brushed his bangs away from his face and began to apply the skin product on him using a cotton ball.

Matsuda shut his eyes close, nose scrunching at the feeling of the ointment on his face.

"That's number one, now time for number two!"

"How many are you putting on before the mask??"

"Four more. Depending if you also want something to prevent acne or something for your pores."

"Oh..…"

"Look up, baby boy."

~~~

They had probably been in the bathroom for almost an hour now but on the bright side, the small skin care session they had was now over and they were just waiting out the facial mask Matsuda was wearing.

He was scrolling through his phone, vibing to the music Otoha had blasting while she struggled to comb her hair. Her mask was off now but she just wanted to wait for Matsuda's before getting dressed.

"You okay there, buns?" Matsuda asked, hearing her grunt in pain for the 10th time or something now.

"I shouldn't have let my hair fully dry without combing it…and now they're tangled through." She pouted, untangling the tangled locks with her fingers before combing it. "My hair's all puffed up now.."

"Come here, and give me the comb. ” He ushered her, putting his phone on the sink and patting his lap.

Handing the comb over to him, Otoha sat on him and he began to brush through her hair. “Your hair smells really nice..” he whispered and she blushed.

“I did just came out of the shower after you.” She replied, swaying her legs to the beat of the song.

Matsuda took a lock of her hair and brought it to his nose, “Ahh….Can’t I take the face mask off now? I want to hug you.”

“Not for a few more minutes.” She laughed then perked up when her favorite song started to play. “OMG OMG OMG- I LOVE THIS SONG!” She squealed, bouncing in her seat.

Matsuda groaned a little, feeling her weight push down on his…spot. “P-please don’t move too much..” He breathily requested. But as usual, she doesn’t listen and just continued on with her singing.

“Please don’t say you are lazy! datte hontou wa Crazy! hakuchoutachi wa sou, mienai toko de BATAashi suru n desu. Honnou ni juujun chuujitsu, honrou mo juujuu shouchi! Zentoyouyou dashi...dakara tama ni kyuukei shichau n desu!” Otoha sang, acting as if she was on a stage, full even with the facial expressions while headbanging to the song. She was vibing so much, unknowingly making the man she was sitting on uncomfortable.

This continued for the entirety of the song, Matsuda whimpering for her to stop moving and her ignoring him. Well, she wasn’t really ignoring him. Just really engrossed with the song. She didn’t stop with her dancing and wriggling until he abruptly gripped onto her arms, forcing her to stop. “I-I….told you to not move too much..”

“Tou-kun? Are you okay?” She asked, looking over her shoulder to look at her lover. Even if his face was covered by the facial mask, his ears and neck betrayed him, being bright red in color and his breaths were a bit labored and shallow. “A-are you sick? Do you need anything?” She shifted her position on his lap to fully get a better view of him but then yelped when he let out a low groan, his hold on her arms tightening.

Otoha was beyond confused until it hit her. Well, until it hit her. “O-oh…”

“I told you not to move much…but you wouldn’t listen…” He muttered, looking at her with dilated pupils. “How much longer until I can remove this mask?”

“A few more minutes still.” Otoha chuckled, then smirked, “Sorry, gotta wait more.”

“Otoha…”

She then stood up and patted his head, taking her phone from the sink before making her way to the door. “I’ll tell you when you can take it off. Until then, just wait for a few more minutes. Bye~” And with that, she left the bathroom, leaving Matsuda a flustered little impatient mess.

~~

It was almost another hour- another hour since she left the bathroom. She was really testing him. Washing the facial mask off his face and gently dabbing the towel to dry it (as she told him to do), he quickly exited the bathroom and was majorly disappointed at the sight.

“Of course..she’s already asleep.” He sighed, walking over to the bed and adjusting the covers over Otoha’s body and taking her phone from her hand, placing it on the nightstand next to the alarm clock. She must have fallen asleep while browsing the internet.

Staring at her sleeping form, he couldn’t help but smile. “Goodnight, Oto.” He whispered, placing a kiss on her forehead before getting dressed himself and going under the covers with her.

[mourningbirds1]

Prospect fic: He Is Home

An Ezra x Reader one-shot

Rating: Explicit for smut Relationship: Ezra x Fem Reader (You) Tags: Smut; Taking A Bath Together; Soft Touching; Oral Sex, F Receiving; Vaginal Sex; Hurt/Comfort; Forehead Kisses; Angsty Fluff; Magical Healing Cock Wordcount: 3K

Also posted on Ao3 - link is in my Masterlist. I also have a Javi x Reader one-shot A Walk In The Woods (smut)

A/N: Written for @yespolkadotkitty​‘s follower celebration writing challenge for the prompt All along, I believed I would find you. Thank you to Kitty for the beta 💗

Summary: You are walking in the rain and feel lost and confused, so you take refuge in Ezra’s house and he looks after you. 

He Is Home

You thought you’d grown strong enough to cope with bad weather after walking for so long, through all seasons. It had been hard at first, but you’d soon learned how to protect yourself from the elements. There were still odd days when you struggled, but you’d remind yourself that everything was temporary. And anyway, even the harshest sun would mellow into a soft glow at dusk. The hardest rain would eventually ease and reward you with the sweet scent of new growth. 

But something has changed today. You tell yourself it must be the cumulative effect of the journey so far. You just need a break, that’s all. Only there’s no place to stop. 

This wind is not the strongest you’ve walked through, but today you’re gasping as it whips around your face and steals the breath from your nose and the words from your mouth. You keep your head down and brace your body against it, but you can’t seem to pick up speed like you would have done yesterday.

Objectively, you know you’ve withstood heavier rain than this. But your shoes have holes that were not there yesterday. And you swear your coat used to be waterproof, but today it is letting in the rain. 

Even so, you know you’d have coped with these setbacks once. But you are suddenly, inexplicably, unable to cope anymore. 

You turn a corner and for a moment your heart feels lighter. You forget your wet feet and your freezing hands because you can see a light up ahead. If you can just keep going for a few more minutes everything will be okay, because you know that is where Ezra lives. 

And the light means he is home.

So you cover your mouth and nose with your scarf to block out the wind, and you pull up the collar of your coat and bring all your attention to your feet. Telling yourself that if you put one foot in front of the other enough times, eventually you will reach him. And so you do.

You open his garden gate and walk up the little path that’s lined with fragrant lavender bushes. You can smell something savoury and herbal and you look down to see that you’re standing on little thyme plants that are growing in the cracks of the path. 

His door is solid wood and you brace yourself as you lift your hand to knock on it, because you know that it will hurt. Your knuckles are so raw from the cold wind. But before your fist makes contact, you hear locks turning from the inside and you know that Ezra is opening the door for you.

He looks just as you remember him. The tuft of pale hair. The silvery scar on his cheek. Soft, dark eyes that turn down at the corners. There are crinkles around them and you find this so comforting because you know these lines are markers of his experience and wisdom. He has already crossed rough terrains and withstood plenty of harsh weather and now he can guide you through them and shelter you from the worst of them.

He’s horrified that you are in such a terrible state. “Come inside, little bird!” 

But you just stand there, feeling too weak to take another step. Too drained by the huge burst of energy you had to summon to come this far. 

He can see that you need him to help you. He steps out and wraps his strong arm around your waist and takes your hand, encouraging you to lean on him.

“I di--didn’t know where else to go,” you tell him, your teeth chattering as you step into his little house.

He closes the door, shutting out the weather, and guides you into his arms. He is so warm. His arms tighten around you, urging you to press the length of your body against him. He doesn’t seem to care that you’re making him wet. You bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe in his comforting, familiar smell. Your lips are wet with rainwater and you press them against the bare skin of his neck and feel his pulse. He is alive. He is real. He is holding you with all the patience in the world. 

“It’s alright now, sweetheart,” he says. He’s stroking your wet hair and pressing kisses there. His breath is warm and you can feel the soft brush of his scruff against your scalp.

He puts a gentle finger under your chin and tilts up your face so that he can kiss you and warm your frozen mouth with his lips. You place your palms against his broad chest and your fingers clutch lightly at his soft black shirt. 

He draws away and takes hold of your hands. When he feels how cold they are he makes a disapproving noise and brings them together, covering them completely with his big hands and rubbing to generate heat.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you like this and his tenderness makes you let out a little sob of relief. 

He takes you back into his arms. “Shhh, now. Y’just need a hot bath and a warm, soft bed. How does that sound?” You make a quiet noise of agreement and nod against his chest. 

He leads you into his kitchen and pulls out a chair for you. “Sit here while I fix you something warming to drink,” he says. He speaks softly, with that same kindness you remember. “Shall I make you that drink you always liked so much?” he asks. 

You nod, “Yes, that’d be nice.” Until this moment you had forgotten all about it. You suppose that your recent struggles must have pushed out nice memories like that to make space for your problems. You wonder what else you’ve forgotten.

There are copper saucepans suspended from a rack above the stove. He takes the smallest and fills it with water and sets it to heat up on the burner. You aren’t sure what he adds to the water. This was always something he used to do for you when you’d had a bad day. 

While it’s heating he disappears for a minute and returns with a towel and a thick blanket that he unfolds and drapes over your shoulders. After he’s tucked it securely around you, he crouches down and removes your wet shoes and wraps your cold, wet feet in the warm, fluffy towel. 

He kisses your forehead and goes back to work on your drink. 

When it’s ready he pours it into your favourite cup and places it into your hands. “I can’t believe you still have this,” you say.

“Of course! Why would I discard something important to one who’s so dear to me?”

Sweet, sweet Ezra. Why did you ever leave him?

While you drink, he crouches at your feet to rub them with the towel, drying between your toes and pressing the soft cotton to your skin, the heat of his hands seeping through the fabric and warming you. 

“Now I’m gonna go run your bath. You want to wait here or come with me?”

You don’t want him to leave you. Can’t bear to let him out of your sight now that you’ve finally found him again. “I want to stay with you, Ez.”

“Then so you shall, beautiful girl.” 

You stand up and find that the drink must have bolstered you because it’s a bit easier to walk now. You follow him to the bathroom and sit on a chair with your drink while he draws your bath. 

He adds bubbles and some scented oil. The room is soon filled with fragrant steam and you breathe it in and it warms your throat and lungs. 

While the tub is filling up he takes your empty cup and sets it aside.

“Shall I leave you alone now, little bird?” he asks.

You look at the tub. It’s a huge, antique thing. Freestanding, with clawed feet. Plenty big enough for two people. “Will you get in with me?” 

He holds your face in his big, gentle hands. “If that’s what you want, nothing would make me happier.” 

You watch as he pulls off his shirt and takes off his pants and then he’s naked before you. He lets you look at him for a moment, unembarrassed by your gaze. Every part of him is beautiful. His broad chest and long arms. The softness of his belly. The little patch of pale skin at his hips. His pretty cock and his sturdy thighs. You reach out and run your fingers over a few new scars. They do nothing to diminish his beauty. 

He smiles fondly, “I can see you’re enjoying the view, sweetheart, but it’s time to get out of these wet clothes.”

He helps you undress because your fingers are clumsy. Still a little numb from the cold.

Ezra gets in first. He leans against the curved end of the tub and makes space for you to sit between his legs. You’re still a little wobbly so he reaches up and gives you his hand to hold while you step in and sink into the blissful heat of the water. It’s the perfect temperature. Exactly what you dreamed of as you trudged through miles of relentless rain and wind. 

You ease yourself down and settle between Ezra’s thighs and he guides you to lean back against him. You breathe out a long, shaky sigh as you relax against his warm, broad body. You can feel his firm chest cradling your shoulders and his belly against your back, then his scruff of hair and his soft cock.

His strong arms are draped around you, caging you into his body and keeping you safe. You let your head tilt back and rest on his shoulder and he nuzzles into your neck, giving you sweet, open-mouthed kisses, and little puffs of air as he breathes against your skin. 

You lie there for a while like that while he kisses your neck and your shoulders. And you touch him, too. You stroke his thighs and his arms. You trace your fingertips over his hands and lift each of them to your mouth so you can kiss them, delighting in their size and how powerful and capable they are.

Ezra washes your hair and your body with soap that smells of orange blossom. His broad palms feel just as roughened and calloused as they ever did as he strokes them over the soapy-slick skin of your breasts and your chest, and then your arms. 

You sigh again, so calmed by the reassuring feel of him behind you and the soothing touches of his hands. The warm water is easing your aching muscles and you feel languid and relaxed. You hook your leg over the side of the tub and nudge lightly at his hand, urging it between your spread legs. Ezra’s hand drifts down to your patch of hair and he lets his fingertips trail over your mound and outer lips. Back and forth, swirling, slow and lazy.

“Is this what you need, sweetheart?” he whispers.

You make a contented noise and tilt your hips into his touch. You can feel his cock getting hard but he ignores it and just carries on stroking you. It’s so relaxing that you drift off to sleep. He wakes you by kissing behind your ear. 

“Water’s gettin’ a bit cold now. How about that soft bed?”

“Mmm, that sounds perfect,” you say, smiling and drowsy.

You get out of the tub and he gives you a big soft towel and you both get as dry as you can and, leaving the towels in the bathroom, you walk naked to Ezra’s bedroom. There’s a little fireplace in there and it’s already built up with kindling and logs. You watch him as he crouches and lights it. 

When he’s done he turns and sees you standing by the bed. “Get in, little bird. We’ve only just got you warmed up.” He pulls back the bed covers. It’s the most comfortable bed you’ve ever laid in. The sheets are so soft against your naked skin. 

The rain is beating against the window pane and the wind howls around the chimney, making little whistling noises. But it can’t reach you here. You stretch out and give a little laugh and wiggle your toes. Delighting in being so warm and dry at last. Ezra is propped up on his elbow watching you, smiling and pleased at how happy you are, and he leans in and kisses you deeply, stroking his tongue against yours, slowly and thoroughly. 

You pull him closer and arch your chest towards his, letting your breasts touch his bare skin and feeling him moan into your mouth as he kisses you. Ezra loves how soft you feel against him. You run your hands across his broad back and can feel his muscles shift beneath his skin as he climbs on top of you, making space for himself between your thighs. When your hands trail lower and squeeze his behind, you feel his lips smile against your mouth. You smile, too. 

“Let me feel you, Ez,” you say. He adjusts his arms to allow his warm, heavy weight to cover you, pressing you into the mattress with the length of his body while he kisses you. When he feels you shift, he lifts his weight off you and kisses down your throat and then your breasts and then down, down until he’s nuzzling sweetly into your cunt. You watch him as he goes down on you. He takes his time over it, holding your thighs open and using his clever tongue to give you a blissful orgasm.

After you’ve come he kneels back and you watch his beautiful cock twitch as he licks the taste of you from his lips and takes in the sight of you, happily pliant and relaxed. All ready for him to take his place between your thighs. You spread your legs wider for him, welcoming him as leans in to press his hard cock where you’re wet for him. 

He braces above you on one arm and reaches down with the other to take hold of himself and he pushes into you, slow and easy, like you are where he has always belonged and always will. Filling you like no one else ever has. You lift your legs and wrap them around his hips, letting him push deeper until he’s fully seated inside you.

“Kevva, you feel so good, sweetheart,” he says, and he rocks into you and you move with him. He makes love to you with slow, powerful strokes, letting you feel the delicious stretch of him filling you again and again and again. 

You think about rolling him onto his back and riding him so he can watch his cock sinking in and out of you, but this feels too good. This is what you need. His arms are braced either side of you and his chest is pressed against yours. You love how he’s covering you with his body, and filling you with his cock. Keeping you safe and satisfied. 

He’s grunting softly and you’ve always loved that about him - that he lets you hear how good you make him feel. 

“Can you come like this?” he asks, as he grinds against your clit. His voice is tight and hopeful, but you know he’d give you whatever you need. You wouldn’t always be able to come without the direct pressure of a fingertip on your clit, but you’re so turned on and it’s been so long since you’ve felt him inside you that you know this will be enough tonight. And anyway you can’t bear to have him draw back to make space for your hand. Neither can he, you think. You nod quickly, yes. 

“Good girl,” he says. He speeds up his thrusts, his breathing growing harsh and feverish, his eyes losing focus now as he savours the exquisite clutch of your slick heat enveloping him completely. His breathy grunts become louder and more desperate and the sound of him, so overwhelmed by you, is enough to make you come. He fucks you through your orgasm, telling you you’re a good girl and you’re beautiful. He praises how incredible you feel coming on his cock. His hips stutter against you, once, twice, and he moans with relief and pleasure as his come pulses into you. You tilt up your hips and spread your fingers over his behind and urge him to bury himself deeper, deeper. You want to keep him this close, always. Inside you and flush against you. Right where he belongs. You never want to let him go.

Finally he goes still and heavy. He keeps his cock buried deep inside you so you can feel it while he tells you, “I love you, my darling girl.” 

You realise you knew this already, but you aren’t sure how. Perhaps he’s told you those words before, and this was another memory that’s been pushed out of your brain to make space for worry.

“I love you, Ezra,” you say. And his soft smile tells you that he’s known this all along.

He eases himself out of you and rolls to the side, taking you with him and lifting you onto his chest. You drift off to sleep in his arms, feeling peaceful and full of afterglow.

In the morning Ezra brings you hot coffee and good things to eat. It’s still raining but there’s nowhere you need to go, so you sit in his cosy kitchen, basking in the heat of the wood-burning stove while he tells you about the good books he’s been reading and his new favourite project – raising plants from the seeds he gathered in his prospecting days.

Life is coming back into focus now. Good memories making space for themselves where once there was only room for fear. 

“I’m sorry I went away, Ezra. I don’t know how it happened. I won’t leave again.”

“Little bird, I know you think you flew away but you never really left. You were right here with me all along, safe inside my heart.”

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Masterlist I also have a Javi x Reader one-shot A Walk In The Woods (smut)

[everafterkeiji]

Song: Hiccup by Valley

Summary: After encountering a road block in your relationship, what path will you take to wind up your broken heart with Iwaizumi?

Pairings: Hajime Iwaizumi x fem!reader

Genre/Warning: angst, cursing

Word count: 6k

A/N: i promise myself i was going to write some bokuto fluff but this song keeps bringing me back to iwa😣 also pls listen to this song<3

2 YEARS AGO

"Tooru."

You call out to him, knees to the floor clutching tightly on your shirt, droplets to the wooden surface. Oikawa harshly closes his eyes, unable to let his eyes rest on your weakened state. He takes a deep breath when he hears your mournful sob. He hears how you took in rough gasps of air so he drops the box from his hands as he rushes to you, his knee scraping from sliding to the floor as he takes you in his chest as you sobbed even more. Oikawa allowing his own tears to fall on your clothes.

He consistently caresses your hair, as your sniffles and cries of pain covered the eary atmosphere of your apartment.

"Tooru." You call out again, he closes his eyes as he leans his head on yours. He dreaded every second that passed knowing he shouldn't be the one to comfort you, but he knew your savior wasn't going to rescue you this time.

"Do you think he'll miss me?"

"I know he will, darling." He assures you, and you wipe your eyes gasping for air once again before speaking again. He lets his hand slide down to your back, patting it every now and then.

"But there's someone better huh?"

Oikawa bites his lip, and you take this silence as an answer you'd never forget. Your lips tug upwards, grinning at how it stung when it came from Oikawa. To Tooru, no one could replace you. He couldn't envision someone to love his brother the way you did and no amount of pain can top how much you cherished each other but he couldn't answer because he was unsure of the motives of the past ace.

"Thank you for staying." You whisper and he pulled you closer as he sighs, glancing at the apartment that appeared in their late night video calls. The same room where he saw the brightest smile that was painted on Iwaizumi, the eyes that carried passion whenever you'd pop up. Visiting the apartment for the first time, he didn't expect how- lifeless it felt.

"Always."

PRESENT

You stretched as you rolled over to the side, used to the ghost of him. You shouldn't be used to it, he should be there to occupy it everyday but every morning you were just greeted by the chilliness he brought you.

The sun sneakily shined upon your eyes as you immediately turn away, expecting the memories to strike your heart like it does whenever the sun flaunted its rays.

"You're mesmerizing." He whispers, his pointer finger inched its way down to your cheek, smiling to himself. You hummed in response, shuffling in the sheets as his heart pounders at the sight of your shoulder peeking through the thin material, with the sunlight decorating your skin with its beauty.

You opened your eyes only to be surprised by how bright the sun was making you close them immediately, giggling to yourself. Who knew his heart could melt even more? Once you've slowly opened your eyes again, you gaze at your Hajime placing a hand on his cheek. With his hand on your chin, he slowly lifts it so your lips meet with his as you smile, running your hand from his cheek to his hair, while closing your eyes at the

He pulls away as butterflies swarmed inside him, pushing back the string of hair that landed in your eyes.

"I love you."

"Forever?"

"And ever after."

You curse at the usual memory that would pass you every morning. It annoyed you how there wasn't a day where you weren't starting the morning this pissed off. Realistically speaking, you adored how your memories would bring life to your body once in a while but when love appears, pain tags along- making it hard to enjoy the only things that could take away the emptiness.

Without him, you could never bring yourself to close the curtains. A habit you've devastatingly brought upon yourself.

Whenever the sun rose and it's light surrounded your room, it was the closest embrace you could ever have from him.

You let your fingers graze over the longing sensation on your lips. Incapable of forgetting how every kiss from his plush lips made you high. Intoxicated with his devotion to you. Each having it's own unique way of bringing you stories from the way it synced with yours.

Do you ever think about coming back to kiss my mouth? You ask yourself, sadly letting go of your lips before stepping into the bathroom.

I miss the taste of you and it's always been you. Iwaizumi thinks to himself as he feels the tingle of coldness from his lips. Like you, he adored the way his mornings were blessings but his room looked like a grave for his emotions.

Curtains closed, not allowing to let the sun peak through since the light in his world wasn't there to bring back the life in his soulless apartment.

He steps out of bed entering his bathroom, brushing his teeth as he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

"S-shush! Baby- baby stop talking!" He says chuckling before placing the toothbrush in your mouth. You two were superbly drunk and it seems like even if Iwaizumi was drunk to the gods, he was still the responsible one in the relationship. You were already about to pass out but his loud laughter kept you awake.

"But Hajime- let me sleep already, you're so noisy bub." You pout but he chuckles again. You turn behind you try and sit on top of the counter but you slid off when you jumped. Iwaizumi shakes his head with a grin as he places his hand on your waist before effortlessly lifting you and placing you on the bathroom sink.

You continue to brush your teeth as he watches how your eyes would droop every second. You spit out the toothpaste before taking in some water and spitting it out as well. You wiped your mouth before bringing your arms outward. "Am I okay now babe? Hajime- honey I wanna sleep." You beg as he rolls his eyes taking you in his arms, like a bride.

"And what about you mister? Did you brush your teeth?" You teased, taking in the aroma of alcohol he had. He bit his lips trying not to laugh but he shakes his head, answering your question. You let out a gasp of betrayal as you hopped out of his arms grabbing the toothbrush and putting toothpaste on it, but you hear his cackle making you laugh as well, addicted to how it made you join him in an instant.

"Princess, at least put it on the actual brush. Not the other end you dumbie." He states making you look down on your failure of an attempt. You let out an "Oh." and this brought tears to both of your eyes from laughing endlessly.

He gazes at his reflection through the mirror as he takes a deep breath. It felt like if he'd utter a word, his voice would already crack at the resurfaced moment. He scolds himself for having minimal change in a span of two years. He told himself that he shouldn't wallow in the grief but he endured it for days.

There wasn't a clear way for him to move on, especially when you drained him from all functions of his mind. The only thing that interests him to be happy was that he held on to the probability of meeting you again. Even if the chances were slim to none, he'd take anything that there is left just to see you again.

Though it seems like, he'd have to suffer longer just for it to happen.

-

Maybe I'd understand the things that you'd do. You whisper as you take another gulp of alcohol. It was Saturday, your supposed late night sessions with Iwaizumi but instead you were solo for today, and maybe for the rest of the years. You bitterly chuckle to yourself as you didn't bother to answer Oikawas call. Your phone kept going off, receiving dozens of messages and missed calls from the setter. He deeply hated Saturdays, or at least your version of it.

Whether you chose to bottle down every beer you had, or scream and get smothered in mascara stains from crying, or even worse, both. Sometimes you'd even mistaken Oikawa for Iwaizumi, and Oikawa allows it knowing it's a way for you to cope. He hated how far away he was but he strictly told you that if you were ever to pursue yourself to go to the club, he'd drop everything and book a ticket to you immediate, of course this was enough for you to listen especially when you'd feel guilty for wasting his time.

Oikawa knew better than to ask for Iwaizumis help. He remained a bridge for the two of you, knowing he'd encounter to different sides. Iwaizumi had him pick up his belongings in your apartment, denying to step foot in your room. In which brought Oikawa to tears at sight of his best friends past lover in such a disaster of a state. So granting Iwaizumis wish, he stayed.

"Why can't you do it? It's your apartment." Oikawa argued making Iwaizumi grunt in pain as he secretly wipes away the tears in his eyes. He sighs before facing the setter.

"She hates me, Oikawa." He says, staring directly at the boy. Oikawa scoffs but stares at the ground, hands to his side formed in a fist.

Is it that bad? He questions.

"Iwa- what happened?" He asks nervously but Iwaizumi only closes his eyes as he tries to get rid of the screams from the previous night.

"I'll tell you soon. When you see her, maybe you'll understand why I can't do this, why I can't face her. Just please do me one favor." The tone in his voice slowly lessens with the last sentence, making Oikawas heart ache for the two of you. Looking at Iwaizumis eyes, Oikawa could see the way he was holding back, but from what? There was a certain change in his usual stare- he looked lost.

Oikawa sits on the couch as he lets his hand gesture for Iwaizumi to speak. He couldn't say anything else but he hoped that Iwaizumi would take his silence as an answer already. Oikawa would do anything for Iwa, and if he was your other half, and Oikawa will do the same to you.

"Save her."

"From what, Iwa?"

"From what I've done."

Oikawa was impatiently waiting for your response but it seems you've decided to push him aside again. Although he was home, the distance from him to you was troublesome so he insisted to call you instead.

He assumed that last year you've gotten better since you spent you Saturday sleeping instead of drinking, but it progressively got worse.

"I mean, one drink wouldn't hurt right?"

He was dumbfounded when one drink turned into hundreds. He knew it was difficult to continue especially when you and Iwaizumi were having the time of your lives everytime. Whether you were extremely drunk, he knew that you two acted the complete same when you were sober. There wasn't a difference, meaning that's just how love worked between you two.

"Tooru- honey!" You shout as Iwaizumi pouts. It was your 4th anniversary and Oikawa decided to call to greet the lovely couple another successful year of your relationship.

"It's shittykawa to you, babe." Iwaizumi teases making Oikawa rolls his eyes. Through the camera, he sees you above Iwaizumi with arms wrapped around his neck without your chin resting on the boys head as he smiles, content to see that 4 years and love didn't change, not even a bit.

"Disgusting lovebirds, happy anniversary to you both!" Oikawa cheers as you giggle, blowing a kiss to him for greeting you two.

"Thank you Tooru-" your words were cut off by a gasp of realization as you shake Iwaizumi. Hajime takes in your excitement as he shakes his head at your actions.

"Hajime! There's no way you're not making Tooru as your best man- anyway! Tooru! This my official invitation for you to be his best man at our wedding!" Oikawa laughs as he raises his eyebrow to Iwaizumi who had a smirk on his lips.

"Well, I will be overly disappointed if I wasn't chosen. If Iwa-chan declines, I'll be your best man instead Y/N, or if you take my offer, I'll be the groom." He winks to you as you laugh before taking another sip of your drink. Iwaizumi flips off Oikawa and the setter only returns this by poking his tongue out to his best friend.

"So is that right, Iwa-chan? Will you finally bend the knee for the lovely lady?" With Oikawas question, you turn to Iwaizumi as if you were nervous. You bit your lip looking at your boyfriend before he pecks your lips catching you off guard as he looks at you with a smirk.

"I'd be a fool not to." He says making you squeal, as you immediately cover your face in your hands, embarassed by how red you got. Oikawa rolls his eyes, envious at the love you shared. Although, he is joyous that you've made Iwaizumi the happiest man he can be, even if you two weren't married yet, to Oikawa it looks like your relationship will only lead to the altar.

There wasn't a single doubt to that.

"Y/N! I thought you've forgotten how to pick up the phone again." He scolds you but his anger washes away when he sees you with red eyes and sniffling uncontrollably.

"Hajime." She calls out, as Oikawa sighs into his pillow realizing it's another night of him acting as Iwaizumi. He's already heard all the things you wanted to say to the missing boy and he accepted the fact that you'll never have the heart to say it to Iwaizumi himself.

"Why do I miss you, now that you're out of my life?" You cried. Oikawa only rests his chin on the palm of his hand as you continued to pour your sadness upon him. You swing the bottle in your hands before downing another wave of liquor.

"I wanna know what you're doing tonight." You whisper as you take your phone, clicking on Iwaizumis contact but before you could, Oikawa spoke, knowing your next intentions.

"No, not again Y/N." He says but you shake your head your finger threatening to press it already.

"Y/N listen to me, Iwa would have contacted you right now but this isn't the time!" He argued but you scoffed, angry tears brimming in your eyes.

"No! Then when will that time come then! I've been waiting for so fucking long already! It's never gonna happen 'cause he's forgotten me- Fuck!" You shouted, taking Oikawa by surprise as you collapse to the floor once again, Oikawa coming back to the sight of you he wanted to forget.

"Y/N- babe I'm sorry-"

"Enough, Oikawa. If you could've been honest that Hajime's found another, then-then maybe I-" your voice cracks as you stressfully runs your fingers through your hair, gripping it tight in your hands as you let out another doleful sob, breaking Toorus heart.

"I don't know what do anymore." You whispered, your heart shattering in to even more finer pieces. You couldn't even put into words how you've been in torment for years.

It finally dawned on you that you weren't headed to the altar, you were headed in a different path.

Without him.

"Y/N- listen- Iwaizumi-" you ended the call leaving Oikawa stunned as he drops the phone in his hands in frustration and in regret. He decided to visit Iwaizumi, knowing it'd be hard to ever communicate with you again, especially that you've been struck by a wrong thought.

And no one else could handle you the way Hajime would.

"Iwa-chan."

"Oikawa? What is it?"

"I fucked up, I'm sorry."

-

Iwaizumi held his breath as Oikawa explained what happened. He couldn't wrap his head around the unintentional pain Oikawa has given you.

"Iwa, I'm so sorry." Tooru says, making Iwaizumi close his eyes visioning your features crushing at the idea of him having somebody by his side.

Hajimes eyes would never betray you. The only reflection that stayed in his eyes, was the future that was thrown away.

"Oikawa, hey it's okay, I understand." Iwaizumi says with a soft tone to assure Oikawa. Tooru would never intentionally hurt you, he was there to save you. Even if Iwaizumi didn't ask him to take care of you, Oikawa would do everything to bring a smile on your lips. As much love you have to Hajime, its the same amount you have to Oikawa.

"Leaving isn't bad because you're gonna come back with something even better and that's the best version of yourself."

It's your words that he counted on. He believed that he wasn't being selfish, or prideful. You made him believe that finding himself was enough to get him all the medals, the passion, and everything he wanted. So he'd want nothing more than to give thanks to you.

"Iwa."

Oikawa breaks the silence. Iwaizumi looks at him while biting down on his fingers, his heart beating too loudly at the thought of you.

"Why didn't you call her- not even giving her a proper goodbye." Tooru asks with masked anger in his tone. How could he help Hajime when he's blocking him from the truth?

"Iwaizumi. Answer me. For once." Oikawa begs, but once he's met with the silence, he's never been more eager to give in to anger.

"I just- I can't let it happen again, Oikawa. Not to her, not to us."

"Baby, what movie do you want to watch on Saturday? I've seen so many good ones lately." Iwaizumi turns to you with an exhausted expression. You were arranging the condiments in the cabinet, waiting for his response.

"Can't we- reschedule? I-I have something to go to-"

"You can't blow me off for the third time this week, Iwa." You spat, sick of the excuses. Has it really been three times? Iwaizumi questions as he leans on the couch, letting out a sigh. To which is a response you didn't expect to receive.

"I've been busy." He lied, he may not feel it, but there wasn't a single hesitation when he spoke. You memorize his schedules, his after meetings, the excused he's mentioned didn't even bother to make sense. It hurt how he was able to come up so easily, not even thinking about you'd be able to piece them all together.

"Or are you just tired, Iwaizumi?"

You asked rudely. He looks at you before rolling his eyes, covering your heart in bitterness at his pride.

"So what if I am?"

He talked back, hitting you with a bigger wave of emotions. You slammed the door of the cabinet, marching to him each step mixed with rage and pain.

"You're tired? Imagine what I've been feeling, Hajime!" You shout, volume picking up on your tone as this makes Iwaizumi stand up from the couch, not backing down at the power of your voice.

"Clingy? Needy? Pathetic? Tell me, does that sound any different to you?" He said it with so much disgust, strong enough to make you doubt everything you've fought for.

"So you don't give a fuck? Is that what you're so proud of, Iwaizumi? That you're so fucking insensitive?" He felt a tug on his heart when you called him that. It's been so long since he's heard you say it so- normal. As odd as it is, he couldn't hear his name the same again, especially when it came from you.

"Exactly! God I- Y/N. This is why-"

"WHAT IWAIZUMI!"

"This why I'm so fucking tired of you!" He shouted, not only did it create a barrier in your apartment, it brought up your past barrier that he broke down but now he's the cause of it to return.

"You're just- can you even make it on your own without me? It's like if I leave you'd- lose your shit! We need space!" He was fuming with confused anger as you feel your throat give out. You were shaking, your heart was too fast and unsteady, you weren't the same.

"But space is what you've been giving me! Coming home so late? Standing me up? You don't even fucking realize how many dates we missed!" He scoffs before running his fingers through his raven hair. Taking a step towards you, making you stand your ground as you tilt your head to meet with his empty eyes.

This isn't the man who could love you forever and ever after.

"So what! I've got so many things to do apart from dealing with your shit!" You stare back at him, weakened at how your heart couldn't handle it anymore.

You looked down, feeling the sting in your hands when your nails digged into the skin of your palm. He sits down on the couch, drained from the war full of shouting and the damage his heart was in.

Surprisingly, you sat beside him but there was such an intense distance between you.

He turns to you but chills ran up his spine when he sees how you look like you've agreed to everything he's said, making his eyes widen at the foreign feeling.

This is what he was scared of. Failing to find interest in the same routine, to find the energy to continue like he used to. Being worn out by how repetitive things were even when the love you both had was nowhere near boring.

In fact, it was exhilarating. You were both curious to try things together, that's what led you to even owning an apartment together, planning a future, even planning your marriage that was now a blur.

He trembled. Regret, anxiousness, exhaustion. He didn't expect himself to feel this way, especially to you, who he loved completely but felt a certain drift in his heart. He looks away from you as his eyes trail on the picture of you two. He couldn't hold it in his hands to look at how happy he looked, because he isn't the same anymore.

He's lost his way.

"D-did I..lack something?" She asks quietly. He gulps at her question. It was so heavy to him. How you asked him, questioning yourself in this relationship. With anxious hands, he wanted to reach out for you but his efforts were surpassed when he felt a wall between you and him.

"Am I worth.. to keep?"

Please, baby. He begs in his mind for you to stop. He couldn't register how he couldn't make himself speak. He was holding back too much, terrified that he was going to break you more and more with every word he'd toss to you.

"Then this is pointless isn't it?"

You both look at each other, both met with different expressions in your eyes. Iwaizumi could see how tired you were, how he knew you wouldn't be able to look at him the same way before, since he gave up first. While you can see how there wasn't a single lie in his eyes, the downfall was upon you.

No matter the space you give him, there can never be a spark to bring him back.

He bit his lip, facing the truth. Even he knew there isn't any other way.

"I know what you're gonna say, Hajime."

"Princess.. I'm sorry"

"Just go." It was impossible for him to follow your orders when all he wishes is to stay but then again, he's run out of reasons to.

"You gave up, Iwa!" Oikawa shouts, standing up to the boy. Iwaizumi lets his eyes wonder on the floor because he said nothing but the truth.

"There isn't anything I can-"

He's heard enough. You've asked Oikawa many heartbreaking questions. They were all unanswerable, and it pained him he couldn't give you at least one. He was in pain as much as you were. He hated how stupid Iwaizumi was for leaving you and choosing to cower away. He hated how you blamed yourself and slashing your heart because of Iwaizumi.

The tension has set fire to Oikawa and with years of loyalty between the two, Oikawa throws a heavy punch to Iwaizumi, disgusted of his actions.

Iwaizumi, completely at shocked at Oikawas punch, steps back a few times before his blood dropped on his fingers. Oikawa walks straight to Iwaizumi capturing his collar and pulling the boy upwards, nothing but rage consuming the setter.

"Did you love her then? Don't tell me this bullshit that you can't go back to her. Do you even wanna know what she asks me?" Iwaizumi removes Oikawas hands from his shirt, crumpling it in the process. Oikawa lets out a sarcastic laugh as he looks at Hajime.

"Ah, so you know how much shit you put her through? Then maybe you are an asshole but god- Iwa she loves you so much. If that isn't a good enough reason for you to talk to her, then I'll find somebody else for her." Oikawa threatens as Iwaizumi lets out a sob, nothing but regret that he hurt two of the most important people on his life.

"But what if it happens again?"

Iwaizumi asks, it was the only thing that held him back for returning into your arms. He isn't stable enough to return when the fear lingers in his head. What if he falls out of love? What if he gets tired again? Then you'll never want his presence again. He couldn't master up the courage because he too was scared of it.

He will not go through dozens of years just to be apart from you. He's already lost his mind to see you and Oikawa face the tragedy that he left you with. He felt nauseated with himself. How can he promise you forever when it was out of his grasp?

"Why don't you find out?"

It was a simple sentence that left Oikawas lips yet it brought Hajime to tears. It would've been that easy. If he didn't stay with his demons, then maybe you were here to offset his heart. After 2 years, isn't it too late to realize that he's never really ran out of love? It strengthened, but he was so afraid of battling with you like you did, hating how he was the man who shattered your overall being.

"Thank you, Oikawa."

He whispers as Oikawa takes a seat beside him, smiling that he brought the boy to realize the amount of time he's wasted by being surrounded by doubt. Oikawa pats the boys shoulder, sighing in relief that Iwaizumi was back.

"Always."

-

You swore to avoid your phone the entire day. As much as you wanted to apologize to Oikawa for the outburst, you just wanted a day of silence since your thoughts never give you the chance. Not only did you promise to avoid technology, you decided to avoid people as well, promising to yourself you'd rather stay inside in order to avoid the envy you had for other couples.

So here you are, tucked in your jacket, wrapped in your blanket waking up from a 4 hour nap. You yawned before squinting when you open your phone. It's 8pm and your stomach was nowhere near happy. Slowly standing up, you make your way to the kitchen opening the fridge seeing absolutely no hope to make a meal. Sighing lazily, you decided it'd be best to just buy some food.

After getting ready, you step out of your apartment as you drive to the place where you usually order. You admired how the moon lit your way. Opening your windows you smile when the cold whiff of air instantly surrounded your car. You loved the way your hair flew in the wind while you listened to the song playing.

Once you've finished your bought dinner, you decided to take a turn in your path. Now that it was late at night, you couldn't resist to visit a place you've been missing.

You take in a deep breath as you leaned on the metal bar, loving the way the view still took your breath away. You were face to face with the nightlights and the busy town below you. Not only was it stunning but it was a place to recall some of your favorite moments with him now that you were out of your comfortless of an apartment.

"Sorry for being late, Oikawa was an ass." Iwaizumi excuses himself as he stood beside you leaning on the rod, smiling once he takes in the lights. He turns to you before removing his jacket and placing it on your shoulders, a sweet gesture that had you blushing every time.

You couldn't refuse knowing he would've scolded you. Instead, you stood closer to him before leaning your head on his arm. With his hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours, as your heart flutters. He takes in your hand, placing a gentle kiss on it as you did the same with his hand making him twirl you in satisfaction. You giggle before landing on his chest as he leans down and places his warm hands to your cheeks as he leans in to take your lips with his.

You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, reciprocating his kiss. He's given you hundreds of kisses before, how is this any different than the rest?

He pulls away, as your foreheads touch as you both painted a smile on your lips, feeling a slight tickle to it with how flustered you both were.

"I love you so much." He whispers, the first time he's ever let the three words slip from his mouth. Your hands make their way his hair, grabbing it lightly before nodding happily.

"I love you more, my Hajime."

Who knew that just by saying those three words, it was enough for you to believe in an ever after with him? Maybe you were wrong to fall for it even though he gave you a fragment of your so called forever.

You glanced beside you to see a vacant spot and you let out a disappointed sigh. You take in the sight of your fingers, missing the way it perfectly fit in his and how he held it with so much care, giving you an idea that he'd never let you go. Unfortunately he broke this bond but you still longed for his skin to be at contact with yours again.

You sat down placing your hand on the bench as you close your eyes leaning your back on it. You felt a shift of weight beside you, someone finally accompanying you in this lonely night but you've caught on the familiar scent of the stranger and you let the name slid off your tongue.

"Hajime."

He turns to you in shock that you knew it was him but you open your eyes, turning your head to be faced with the man you've been longing to see in two years. He looked the same, the same face who clouded your dreams. He was certainly your Hajime, the pretty boy you've adored since you were in high school.

Happy anniversary. You silently greet each other. How bittersweet, isn't it? What was meant to be your 6th year, turned into 2 years of avoiding each other.

And as you took in Iwaizumis appearance, he did the same with you. Loving the way your features clicked in his memory instantly. Was it even possible for you to be even more beautiful? To Iwaizumi, it was. He absolutely missed you, but why was his heart nervous?

What do I do? He asks himself. Small talk isn't what you deserved. God- you deserve so much more. Endless hours of talking, his embrace, his love, that's what you missed. He was willing to love you with everything he's got, now knowing he'll never run out of it because he isn't scared anymore.

"This isn't a dream is it?" You asked as you turn back to the sky counting the stars that was above you. He was glad you broke the silence, and he appreciated how there wasn't the same tension before. It felt so- serene and unique. Something he wishes it'd be a good sign for the both of you.

"I can't believe it either." He exclaims making you smile. You couldn't ask him how he's doing, not wanting to drag on a conversation you've waited years for to happen, you couldn't let it be bland and meaningless.

"We were something weren't we?" You asked with a soft smile. Iwaizumi chuckles beside you, as he sits closer to you. The cold air swirling around you two as well as the car noised filling in the comforting silence.

"God, I miss what that's like." Iwaizumi answers as you look at him. You looked down on the floor with tears appearing again, the same as Iwaizumi. You were both craving to hold each other but it didn't sit right to just rush into each other knowing there's so much to unpack.

Maybe it was a bit unexpected that you'd face him this way. Echoing through your ears was the conversation between you and Tooru about how the time never came. Now, you weren't even close to being prepared. You both imagined a proper conversation wherein you two would agree to meet up and talk things out. Yet subconsciously, you came to the same place at the same time not even knowing you'd meet. You lacked strength to bundle the words that you've always wanted to say to him and he felt the same way.

The last time you sat next to each other, that was when you parted. Now, back in the same position, it felt overwhelming. Seeing each other for the first time, both had you shocked and careful of your words. You wanted to scream how much you loved him, and he wanted to hold you in his arms to wash away the bleeding of your heart.

You loved how the universe made you two meet. It was quite painful that it had to be the place where you've shared so many memories with him. You didn't know if this was a blessing in disguise but you couldn't complain when the love of your life was here, beside you.

When he saw you, he felt like the sun shined above him like it did every morning. Where he had an angel to wake up next to, when he couldn't spot a single imperfection in your skin when the sun danced in your beauty.

And you've finally remembered the way his touch would bring you the assurance without words. His unexpected kisses, his sweet embrace, his smile that makes your heart run a marathon.

You're finally here. You both think, your hearts synced in how you've waited for this moment.

With your hand on the bench, he places his hand on top of yours, feeling like it was too fragile to hold but you didn't pull away. He takes in your features in the moonlight as his heart picks up the pace at the feeling that washes over him.

There isn't a barrier anymore.

Having the chance to hold your hand like this, he'll never take this for granted again. His everything, back in his touch, god how lucky he was. Remembering Oikawas words, one thing was clear to Iwaizumi, and that was the fact that he couldn't afford to have another hiccup in your relationship.

"We really fucked up this time." Iwaizumi comments making the both of you chuckle as he intertwines your hands with his, smiles on either your faces now that you've finally found the path to each other.

[novantinuum]

Tides of Renewal (SU one-shot)

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: T (Mild TW for vague allusions to past suicidal thoughts.)

Words: 2500~

Summary: Now twenty years old and living on the other side of the country, Steven spends his morning relaxing on the beach, musing about his past, and having a chat with his dad.

Hi folks! This is actually my two-months-late “Happy Birthday, Steven” fic, ahah- amusingly, posted two months late to the day. I’m quite happy with how this short turned out.

If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well. AO3 link will be provided in the reblogs. Thank you! <3

____

Tides of Renewal

Steven rises alongside the sun, but not by choice.

As he abruptly stirs, jerking onto his side under his tangled blanket, he soon realizes that he has little lingering memory of the nightmare that shook him from his slumber. Nevertheless, his heart pounds so hard it feels like it’s hanging in his throat. There’s feelings, faint impressions— someone’s blood (his, or hers?), Connie’s screams, a bubble of terror boiling from within— but that’s all he’s left with. The young man clutches at his sheets, struggling to catch his breath as is the norm most mornings. Dim light sneaks in between the edges of the curtains, offering a rough estimate of the time.

Once it’s clear his chances of sleeping in have become null and void, he entices himself out of bed with the promise of buying himself a muffin at the local coffee shop later today, a birthday treat. His routine is sluggish, but precise. He uses the bathroom, throws on his swim trunks and a thin cotton shirt, downs the pills he forgot to take last night with a quick swig of water, carefully runs his fingers through his long curls to work out the tangles, and slips his feet into the flip flops he always leaves lying right at the foot of his bed.

The young adult only takes his guitar, phone, and keys with him as he walks the mile distance from his humble studio apartment to the public beach. Around him, the world is at peace. The only sound intermingling with the gentle ebb and flow of the Pacific at this hour of the morning is the chattering of puffins that nest on the large rock outcroppings in the tide pools nearby. The edge of his lip quirks up when he finally crosses that sacred boundary— the sidewalk meeting the shore— and removes his sandals, reveling in the satisfying, grainy texture of sand squishing between his toes. Hah... the beach. Funny, that. All his traveling these past years, from mountains, to prairies, to sprawling suburbs to wooded forest towns, and it only succeeded in deepening his childhood love for the familiarity of saltwater air and tourist-filled boardwalks. Still, the secluded, rustic charm of Haystack Cove is a far cry from the Beach City he grew up in. Different people, different sights, different types of seafood sold at the markets. This place feels like a home all his own, appropriately distant from the Gem influenced settlement he’d left behind.

He crosses the fine grained sands towards his favorite sitting spot, a hefty stone jutting out from the ground, its surface buffed to a glossy finish over the years by the high tides. The water’s still distant this early in the morning, glimmers of sunlight sparkling off of the foam and spray. Yawning, he plops himself down on the stone and lifts his guitar into his lap. He strums a few random chords as a warm-up before settling into an experimental melodic sequence.

As he plays, the early morning breeze teases at the ends of his shoulder-length hair, untied and let free in all its curly splendor. It’s still quite chilly, but with the sun peaking over the horizon behind him and not a cloud in sight, the air’s bound to heat up in no time. Steven inhales deeply, soaking in the salt and light and pushing away the shadows lurking at the periphery of his mind, that twitching, exhausting anxiety that never quite seems to leave him alone these days. Unfortunately, functional does not mean carefree. While far fewer in number then when he was a teen, he still runs into plenty of moments where he’s struck blind by particularly painful reminders of his past, his gem snapping into overdrive in an instant. He’s a bit better at coping in these moments now, and walking himself down from panic attacks, but deep-rooted traumas don’t simply melt away. With that in mind, at this point he suspects he’ll likely have to deal with a mixture of therapy and meds for the rest of his life. That’s fine, though. If that’s what it takes to be at peace. He’s thankfully reached a point in his recovery where he’s more than willing to work for it.

Startling him out of his roaming thoughts, his phone chimes to life, touting the same cheery ring tone he had as a kid. He gently sets his guitar down in the sand and fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, a silent bet as to who’s calling rising within his mind. Sure enough, his dad’s contact photo proudly greets him. Hah— he called it. Steven stifles a giggle as he hits accept and lifts the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Dad!”

“Hey, Schtu-ball!” his father chimes from the other side of the country, three hours ahead. He hears a faint shuffle over the line, and then the beginnings of guitar accompaniment as the man begins to sing:

“Happy birthday to you~!”

Dad ends the line with a resounding vibrato, and a few extra jazzy chords for good measure.

“Heh heh, thanks,” he says, bashfully blushing at the attention, and gazing across the loose sands as if ensuring the secret of his birth hasn’t swelled into a nauseatingly public affair like half of his birthdays had since the start of Era 3. “Gotta say, the impromptu guitar solo pushed that to a whole new level. You just get up?”

“Yep! Bright and early. Garnet said you’d probably be awake by now, so I figured I’d call and give ya’ a good greeting to start the day. Lemme guess, you’re down there at the beach already? I think I heard waves.”

Steven’s glance lifts to admire the slowly rising tides, and the promise of each tomorrow that lies beyond. “Hah, you know me,” he says softly, taking a deep lungful of that precious salt-touched air he’s always adored. “I live for the water. Might force myself to go for a swim later before all of you come. Not sure yet,” he says, shrugging as he turns and squints in the wake of the steadily rising sun. “But my therapist said I should probably keep as active as po—“

“It’s your birthday. You do whatever makes you happy, bud,” his dad promptly reminds him, slight concern sticking to his voice. And yes, it’s practically a father’s job to worry, but his chest tightens with lingering guilt for pressing that upon him anyways. Ugh, this is because he said ‘force myself,’ isn’t it?

“Doing my best to,” he lamely offers, hoping it’ll at least end that segment of conversation. He twirls a stray strand of hair around his finger as he scours his memory for something new to offer. Thankfully, his mind quickly lands on the exciting email he received last night. He grins, knowing for sure his dad’ll love this. “Oh, uh- topic change, but I got that last job I applied for, by the way.”

“Oh? The taffy shop one?”

“Yeah! I start on Tuesday.”

“Wow, that’s- that’s awesome! They responded fast, then.”

“Yup,” Steven nods, popping the ‘p.’ “Honestly, it’s nothing much, just stocking and working the register, but it’ll give me some cash to work with.”

Some cash to finally pay for his own food instead of continuously bumming money off his dad. There’s no way he can handle full month’s rent on his own with this minimum wage job, (who on Earth could in this economy), but it might be enough to cover the smaller things. Groceries, electricity, internet. That sorta stuff. Fidgeting on the edge of the stone outcropping, his bare toes dig narrow lines in the sand. He hasn’t really had this discussion with Dad yet, but the mere concept of being wholly reliant on other people steers his mind uncomfortably close to the I’m a Burden Zone. He’d far prefer to feel like he has a stake in the game.

“I know you said you don’t mind supporting me,” he continues in a hesitant tone, twirling his finger through one of his curls, “but I still feel kinda bad—“

“Don’t. I’d rather you not have to stress yourself to the bone about money like I did when I was your age.”

The line shakes for a second. He’s pretty sure he hears the faint clink of a bowl meeting the counter from his dad’s side.

“Dad...?”

“Sorry, bud. Just putting ya’ on speaker. Figured I’d make myself some instant oatmeal,” he says, his voice sounding a bit further away from the microphone. “Goodness, though. Twenty years. That still boggles the mind.”

He gives a soft laugh. “You’re telling me. Could’ve sworn I was twelve just yesterday. And to be honest, it’s... it’s kinda weird sometimes, you know?”

“What is?”

“Being another year older. ‘Cause... well, uh...”

Steven grits his teeth, searching for the most delicate manner in which he can discuss these emotions. The feelings of his past are a really hard topic to dwell on sometimes, even in therapy, and even though he and his dad have long since had scattered discussions about what a poor mental state he was in then, he doesn’t wanna upset him too much.

“There were definitely days I assumed I wouldn’t have a future, or didn’t want one to begin with,” he continues, throat thick. “Back during all the conflict, before Homeworld reformed. And even after that, when I was... you know. And things are better, now, they’re definitely a lot better. But the idea of a ‘future’... even if I’ve got a job, a home, a girlfriend... it’s still weird to think about, I guess.“

There’s a brief silence on the line as this vulnerable admission sinks in.

“Yeah,” Dad replies eventually, clear sorrow in his voice despite how careful he thought he was in phrasing these matters. “I hear ya’.”

With a quick nervous laugh, he scratches at the nape of his neck, fingertips brushing against the thin, wispy strands of hair growing back there. “Geeze, sorry for bringing the mood down so quick. Didn’t even know I had all that on my mind until it spilled right out.”

“No, no! No need for apologies, I’m always here to listen. And in any case, I’m glad you’re in a better place now.”

Steven nods his head to himself in full agreement (momentarily forgetting that his dad isn’t actually here in the flesh to see this response). Sixteen and seventeen really, really weren’t good years for him. And even though he’s put lot of work into himself since then, he can’t help but constantly fear the possibility of relapse. His therapist told him a few sessions ago when he expressed this worry that... relapses into old thinking patterns can be common for people living with C-PSTD, and that it’s important for him to be cognizant of any unusual changes in his patterns and routines so he can quickly intervene with his box of healthy coping tactics, but... geeze. The dark, traumatic destinations his wandering thoughts end up stagnating in when the concept of relapse brushes his mind aren’t fun to acknowledge. It makes him yearn with deafening hunger for a simple switch he could flip, some magic cure-all for his brain that would stop him from having to deal with any of this awful shit in the first place— but of course, cruel universe this can be at times, those don’t exist.

“Speaking of that,” Dad speaks up again after clearing his throat, “how are those new meds treating you? You said last call your doctor was gonna change them, yes?”

“Nah, not change. There’s no need to change types,” he shrugs. “It’s just a dosage shift. And it’s fine, I think. I’ve been on ‘em for a few days, and there’s no problems so far. Brain's been treating me a little better.”

Nightmares aren’t quite as bad.

His energy isn’t totally zapped by noon.

The whirling, panicked trajectory of his thought patterns is a little easier to wrest control of.

All in all, nothing’s perfect, but he certainly feels a good deal more stable than before. Now, if only he can remember to consistently take his meds before he goes to bed like he’s supposed to instead of totally forgetting like he did last night and having to scarf it down when he sees that forsaken capsule in his pill box the next morning. Tsk, tsk.

“That’s real good to hear,” his dad responds to his news.

He flexes his knuckles against his lap, gaze reflexively drifting back towards the welcomed distraction of the tides. “Yeah.”

“Anyways, I, uh...”

“So, party logistics,” he cuts in with an overly cheery tone, changing the topic from his boring mental health crap entirely. “We should probably hash this out now. I know Connie’s planning on dropping around about noon. What’s your guys’ plan? She can probably send Lion to you after she gets here, if you want.”

“Yeah, that’d be best. Pearl said there weren’t any convenient warps nearby. Well, there’s one- but apparently it empties out into an active lava tube. And that’s not exactly Dad-friendly.”

“Aww, you mean you’re not filled with the intense desire to dip your hand into molten lava and shlorp it up like it’s soup?” Steven retorts, only barely holding back his laughter as he thinks of this absurd text thread he had going with Connie a few weeks back, wherein she sent him a video of some volcanic flows and told him, verbatim, that 'despite all logic and reason sometimes I can’t help but look at super viscous lava and think... forbidden s o u p, mmmm.’

“Not particularly, no,” his dad says, sounding thoroughly confused. “I’m- why are you laughing? Is this some sort of weird internet thing I’m not familiar with again?”

He wipes tears from his eyes as he tries to catch his breath. “You, ah- you kinda had to be there, sorry. Anyways, yeah. I’ll have Connie send Lion. I’ll text you right before, how’s that?”

“Sounds great! Can’t wait to see ya’, bud. I’m gonna let you go, now, okay? I can talk your ears off later. Go enjoy your morning. Love you.”

“Love you too, Dad,” he says, grinning. “Bye.”

“Buh-bye.”

Once his dad hangs up he sets his phone beside him on the rock and takes a deep, steady breath, trying to capture the full nuance of each diverse scent in the air. He may just be imagining it, but he swears he’s able to pick out the faint scent of taffy intermingling with the ocean saltiness and the hint of cedar from the nearby state forest. In the end though, whether it’s real or not it’s a welcomed reminder of all the possibility the future holds for him.

He’s twenty now. It’s a brand new decade of life. He’s got a new job lined up, a stable and loving relationship, a supportive family, and plenty of courage in facing the shadows of his past. Sure, so maybe he’ll never know with certainty what will happen— maybe he’ll relapse a little, maybe he’ll still have some bad days sprinkled amongst the good ones— but as he watches the tides flow in to greet him, he smiles... and resolves to just take this year as a renewal of his vow to care for himself as best he can.

[wtfevenismypage]

Profiler, Not Observer pt2

OBSERVER NOT PROFILER EPILOGUE SERIES PT2

Summary: Life was beautiful, you were so happy, so content, until it was all flipped on your head

Warnings: none :)

A/N: I love you all so much guys, I’m publishing this because it was already finished up, but i am not even close to being finished with any of the requests in my drafts. I’m writing because it’s my passion, my coping mechanism, my de-stresser, and one of the one things in life that keeps me going. But I’m struggling to do it because of how much the universe hates me recently. I am going to be alright, I just need a moment for myself.

Spencer returned to the table with a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. The kids believed it though. That’s all that mattered.

“Momma! I finished!”

You smile at Jason, standing up and taking his plate, pressing a kiss to his head.

“Good job baby, can you go take a bath and brush your teeth? We’ll be up in a bit to tuck you in and read to you. Alright?”

He nods giddily, running up the stairs to the bathroom. The twins continue to eat in their high chairs as you walk to the sink, Spencer right behind you.

While you begin cleaning the plates, Spencer hugs you from behind, putting his warm hands on your tummy.

“It was Hotch wasn’t it?”

He nods against your neck, pressing a single soft kiss to it. He seems tense, like how he usually was after an argument with someone on the team.

“Wanna tell me what it was about or are you gonna keep me in the shadows?”

He doesn’t speak, instead he spins you around abruptly, smashing a kiss against your lips. He’s stressed and upset, you can taste it on his lips.

“Hey, bub, as much as I would love for you and I to do that right now, the twins are right there. We’ll talk about why Hotch called later, for now though, can you go see if Jason needs help washing up?”

He sighs before nodding, squeezing you tightly once more before walking off. If only you could still read people as well as you could before. Now you can only tell people names, their emotions, and a few other mediocre things about them. 

You love Spencer so much, but holy hell is he stubborn. He’s upset about whatever Hotch said and he’s reluctant to tell you.

But pushing aside your concerns, you scoop the twins up in your arms as they finish up eating and you slowly rock them back and forth.

“Hush my babies. Relax now, it’s time for sleep.”

You say, stepping up the stairs carefully as to not topple over. If Spencer saw you he would flip. But you managed to safely get up the stairs, hearing Spencer’s and Jason’s laughs echo from the tub in your bathroom.

You smile, looking at the two babies in your hand again before walking to the nursery and setting them in their respective cribs. 

You quickly make your way to your bedroom, crossing it to see Jason in the bath, covered and drenched in soapy suds, and Spencer right outside of it, trying to get him to settle down.

“Jason, I will pay you to settle down.”

A light chuckle escapes your lips at the words of your husband, which makes him turn to you with tired, but smiley eyes.

“Shouldn’t a genius father know how to get a four year old to settle down?”

He smiles as you come closer, bending down to ruffle with Jason’s bubbly hair.

“Hey buddy, are you tired? You have a long day ahead of you, let’s get you clean so you can go to bed.”

He shakes his head rapidly, a frown beginning to form.

“I’ll let you have some candy tomorrow if you go to sleep in ten minutes.”

And just like that he’s rapidly dunking his head underwater to wash his hair out. 

Candy tends to be Jason’s fuel, he can hardly wait to get home on Halloween to eat his candy, last year, Spencer had to take him out a second time to distract him while you checked the candy for razor blades or anything suspicious.

And withing seven minutes, he’s in bed, Spencer right by his side, reading him a book. Spencer wanted to read him more advanced books, but you and him compromised, reading him old tales instead.

“The end. Alright, go to sleep now little one, you have a great day ahead of you.”

He nods sleepily, and you smile, pressing a kiss to his forehead which Spencer copies.

When you and Spencer reach your own bedroom, your smile slowly drops as Spencer plops down on the bed tiredly.

“So... What did Hotch want?”

He sighs, pulling you towards him. You stand right in front of him, letting him rest his head on your big baby bump.

“He said he needs us to come back. Just for one case.”

A gasp escapes your lips before you can stop it. 

“He wants us back?”

“He said we can talk about it but he needs an answer soon.”

“But we haven’t talked to them since...”

“Since we retired. Yeah, but I guess they miss their resident genius and super profiler.”

You chuckle. The two of you didn’t intentionally cut off communications with the team, it just kind of happened. You tried to text them, but alas, they were always busy with cases.

“Well, obviously you don’t want to go.”

He let’s his lips kiss your tummy, sighing for what seems like the fiftieth time tonight.

“It’s not that I don’t want to go it’s just... I’m worried about the kids... And you’re pregnant! What if you get hurt?”

You hold his head, tilting his face up to meet your gaze. His eyes are sad, worried. They make you hurt.

“I’ll be fine. I won’t go into field? Will that convince you? And we’ll hire a babysitter. It’ll be fine. Can we please go?”

You beg, crouching down to his level and holding his face in your hands.

“You are so stubborn.”

“You love me for it.”

TAGLIST:

@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @thatsonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @aberrant-annie @holybatflapexpert @spencerreidisbootiful @april-14-blog @jackryan-plz @kalebtheo @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @spenciepoo338 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine @baby-i-am-fireproof @allthedumbassfandoms @irjuejjsaa @zhangyixingxing1 @madcrazy50 @maryhuffxoxo @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @officialbogbody @m3lly-x @dark-night-sky-99 @eu-solidao @thupidalethea @bad-idea-personified @random-thoughts-003 @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @boiled-onionrings @polywitcheyes @bxbyspxncer @snitchthewitch @yoruebeautiful @blablasomethingblabla @zhangyixingxing1 @etherealgubler @valkyrie-5583 @peaxhyjaes

Permanent taglist:

@pinkdiamond1016 @sheepfather @spencer-reids-snow-white

[brelione]

Just Wanna Be Happy (Pope HeywardxReader)

Warnings:Mentions of self harm,depression,medication,suicide.Please do not read if youre triggered by these topics.This wasnt written to glamorize mental illness this is kind of just my coping mechanism because I just got out of a depressing period.Depression effects people differently but this fanfic has ways that its effected me so yeah.

You had never been a very social person.Or a friendly person or even a happy person.You kind of just existed without purpose or reason.Its not like you didnt want to be happy because of course you did.It just wasnt something that could come naturally to you in your everyday life.It was summer and you had hardly left your house at all.Most time was spent in your room.It had been days since you had showered or brushed your hair or even changed your clothes.You hadnt done you laundry in weeks or eaten a proper meal in days.You were an absolute mess since you had stopped taking your medication.You didnt know why but you just couldnt bring yourself to take them anymore.You felt guilty for not replying to any of your friends messages.

“Hey :) do you wanna hang out with us tomorrow?”Read Tuesday 9:48 PM. “Hey have you been taking your meds?Your mom wanted me to check up on you :)”Read at 1:48 PM today.

Your mom was staying with family in California this summer to work on a book.She would transfer ten dollars to your bank account everyday.You hadnt spent any of it.She had sent you countless texts to ask how you were doing or if you had gotten your refill.Your skin was dull from not seeing the sun,the hair on your legs had grown long and prickly and you smelt like absolute shit.You heard a knock at your door,the sound echoing through your empty house.You worked up the strength to get up,dragging your feet as you walked.You felt dizzy and nauseous as you walked,couldnt even feel your feet touching the ground.Your kitchen was an absolute mess,frying pan with maple syrup stuck to it and the sink full of dirty smelling dishes.You opened the door,blocking your eyes from the sun to see Pope.

He let out a sigh of relief,pulling you into a hug. “God (Y/N)!You cant do that!Jesus,I thought you died.”He sighed,squeezing you tightly.You didnt bother hugging back,letting your head rest against him. “I was getting worried about you-its been like two weeks since you’ve talked to me.”He grumbled,pulling away from the hug and observing your face.You had a couple of pimples across your forehead from not washing your face,your skin was splotchy and your eyes puffy. “Have you been taking your meds?”He asked.You didnt answer,watching as he walked over to the cabinet to pull out the orange pill bottle.It was still half full.He looked at the date that it was supposed to be refilled.Two days ago. “You have to take these every day!”He exclaimed.You sighed,not really caring.THis wasnt what you needed to hear right now.You didnt exactly know what you needed to hear but that was definitely not it.

 “When was the last time you showered?”He asked.You shrugged,not remembering.All the days had merged together.You slept a lot even when you didnt need it.The only time you really got up was to use the bathroom or vomit into your trash bin. “And the last time you ate?”He asked.You mumbled that you werent sure,embarrassed that someone had seen you in this state.He turned on your shower,letting the room get steamy from the hot water.He went into your messy room,making his way through the piles of crumpled paper and dirty clothing to your dresser.He grabbed you a new pair of underwear,a sportsbra,a loose t shirt and some comfy looking shorts.He assisted you in getting your hair out of the bun it was in,letting the snagglt knots loose. “I’m going to make you some food,okay?”You nodded.He closed the bathroom door.

You pulled off your dirty clothes,nearly gagging at the smell of yourself.You stepped into the shower,letting the burning hot water touch your back and head.You poured a fistfull of conditioner in your hair to try and help with the knots.You sat down,closing your eyes and letting the conditioner rinse out.You poured at least a fourth of the bottle of shampoo into your hair,scrubbing your scalp aggressively.You used the suds from the shampoo to wash under your arms and your back.You used the same suds in replacement of shaving cream to shave your legs only up to your knee.The water was going cold but you didnt care,laying down and letting the water smack your stomach.Pope knocked at the door before opening it. “(Y/N)?You okay?”He asked.You sat up,eyes still shut as you turned off the water. “I made you some frozen waffles.”He informed you before closing the door again.

You waited until all of the water went down the drain until you stood up,slowly stepping onto the bath mat.At least you didnt smell so disgusting now.What really worried you was brushing your hair out mostly because you knew it would hurt and half your hair would most likely fall out.You grabbed a towel,rubbing down your body.You had some faded scars on your thighs and calves but none on your wrist.Mainly because you knew no one would check your legs.It had been five months since you harmed yourself and you were proud.You probably would’ve relapsed eventually if you were even able to work up the energy to do it.You groaned as you saw the pimples on your face,grabbing your face wash that you hadnt used in so long.You scrubbed your face,rinsing the soap off and patting your skin dry.

You looked back up at the mirror.You could barely recognize yourself.You looked like a deformed radiation exposed raccoon.You saw the clothes Pope had picked for you,pulling them on over your damp skin.You slowly brushed your teeth,blood leaking from your gums as you did so.You dragged yourself out of the bathroom,the cold air of the kitchen hitting you.Pope wa sitting at your kitchen table.A plate of eggos sat on a paper plate,a cup of water sitting in front of it. “I’ll go grocery shopping for you later.”He offered as you sat down.You shook your head. “No...its fine.”You answered as you stared down at the plate. “You dont have anything to eat here.Let me go grocery shopping and cook for you.”He spoke softly,taking a pill from your prescription bottle and holding it in his palm.

 “Can you please eat so you can take this?”He asked.You took a bite of the eggo,wanting nothing more than to spit it out into the garbage.You chewed it to mush and swallowed,looking back at him. “Good.”He handed you the pill. “I dont want to take this.”You told him.He sighed,nodding. “I know,I know you dont but it’ll make you feel better.”He told you.You dipped your head back,dropping the pill in your mouth and sipping the water. “All I want is to be happy….why is that so much to ask for?”You grumbled,looking down at your cup.He reached out for your hand,rubbing his thumb along your palm. “You’ll be happy one day.If you take your medicine and make your environment better you’ll feel better.”He had probably read that bullshit in some book.You rolled your eyes. “What does that even mean?”You asked.You placed his hand over yours,tapping his nails against your fingertips. “Just let me take care of you until your mom gets back,alright?”He asked.You hummed,too tired to argue.

He grabbed your hairbrush and a bottle of detangler from your bathroom and got to work on your hair.It didnt hurt too bad and he was careful with your hair almost like it was precious gold. “Do you wanna watch a movie?”He asked.You shrugged but followed him to your living room.It was the one room besides your mothers that you hadnt completely fucked up.He went on Disney Plus and allowed you to flick through the titles until you found something you liked.You chose Inside Out.He grinned at you,kissing your forehead before disappearing into your room.He picked up the clothes off your floor and assumed they were dirty,tossing them into your washing machine.

He stuffed your trash bin full of all the paper and random trash on your floor.He grabbed the stacks of plates,forks and molding mugs from you floor and on top of your dresser.He did a load of dishes,switching your clothes from your washer to your dryer.You had fallen asleep on the couch with the movie still on.He made your bed for you,killing a few bugs that had been hiding under all of the trash.He called his dad. “Pope?You okay?” “mhm..yeah.Um...im gonna be away from home for a while.” “What-no the hell you’re not.” “Dad-” “No-what am I gonna do with all these grocery deliveries?” “Dad-Its (Y/N).” Silence. “Is she….uhh..” “No-no.She’s been off her meds and i think someones gotta be here to take care of her while her moms out of town.” “Alright...just be careful with her.”The call ended.Pope sighed as he looked at your room.It was much much cleaner now that he was done with it.

He sat down on the couch next to your sleeping figure,paying attention to the movie in front of him.You sat up tiredly,wrapping your arms around his torso and moving him so you could rest your head on his tummy. “I think thats whats happening to me.”You spoke,gesturing to the TV.Joy and Sadness had just left the headquarters which left only fear,anger and disgust.He nodded,understanding what you were trying to tell him. “Maybe.”He replied.You sighed,tracing circles onto his skin through his shirt. “I wanna learn how to be happy...it might take a while but I just wanna be happy,you know?”You asked.He hummed,moving his arms so he was holding you. “I’ll help anyway I can.”He promised,stroking your hair lightly.

[originofjaehyun]

Prelude: After Story | Part 1 | Punch

Prelude: After Story Masterlist

Word count: 2,929

Warnings: None

Part 1 | Punch

“‘Cause I’m a clean fighter.”

Next

Read Interlude: No More Drama

Tag list: @justineasian​ @elauniesdream 

“Make sure you tell him how you felt.”

The remark only received a giggle from the other party. “I’m not promising anything, Yuta. It will take time.”

Yuta took a final glance. There’s a hint of despair in the way he looked at her. “You packed everything?”

She nods. “I think so. Let me know if I left something. Well, that if you don’t mind. Else, you can throw them away.”

“Alright, I’ll let you know.” He smirked. There’s a pregnant pause before he continues. “I’ll see you when I see you, [Y/N]. Until then, please be well.”

Yuta could see she welled up, holding up her tears. He wished he could hug her and tell her that it will be fine, but that only contradicted the brave front he showed to her.

She finally waves her final goodbye, closing the door. It is a signal for Yuta to finally embrace his sadness. Legs gave in, he immediately crouched down, sighing.

“Damn, who would’ve thought I could fall for someone this much?” Brushing the hair that covers his forehead, he asked himself, with no one to answer.

Yuta walked to his bathroom, thinking that he would cool his head by taking a brisk shower. He took off his shirt, pausing in front of the sink before he entered the shower booth. He stared at his own reflection, blankly. No thoughts, head is empty. He just needs his time to process and to cope with his own heartbreak.

There are few objects that don't belong to him, and by then he noticed that she forgot to visit the bathroom when she cleared her stuff, leaving her toothbrush behind. He curled one side of his lips up, sighing regretfully before throwing the toothbrush to the trash bin nearby.

This is so I can forget about her faster.

Yuta taught to himself, before spotting another foreign item.

A pair of rose gold stud earrings. Yuta knows his pieces of jewelry because he never took off his. The simple design of the earrings is also a bit too plain for his liking, and the owner of them is no other than the person who just left this place.

He grabs it, about to throw them away. But hesitates, gripping the earrings inside his palm. 

Yuta looks at the earring once more.

Maybe, just maybe, this is the only part of you that I could keep?

–

Days pass per normal for Yuta. Except that the people around him notice that he’s anything but it.

“You alright, bro?” Doyoung tapped his shoulder, waking Yuta from his daze.

“What do you mean?” Yuta leans to the wall, inhaling his IQOS.

“I don’t know man, you’re off these days.” Doyoung took a sip of his grapefruit drink. “It seems like you have something on your mind. Have you talked to [Y/N] about it?”

Ah, so she hasn’t told him.

Yuta thought to himself, not responding to Doyoung as he drew out a translucent smoke.

“She might not be the best at giving advice, cause even she had a hard time figuring out herself. But I promise she’s a good listener, I’m sure she'll be able to give you some sort of comfort.”

Yuta just nodded to his statement.

He nodded because he himself knew how comfortable it was to be around her.

–

Yuta holds grudges. It was hard for him to admit it at first, but eventually, he accepts the annoying part of his personality. Fast forward five months after she left, Yuta still refused to go out. This clearly weirded everyone out since Yuta is the social butterfly. For him to reject their offer to visit the bar after office makes the lines on their foreheads more apparent than ever.

Yuta just needs some time, alone. He doesn’t know for how long, but what he knows is that he’s just not in the mood to put on a fake happy smile when his own heart is like a shipwreck.

So he spent another night in at his apartment, opening a bottle of rye whiskey. Truthfully, Yuta prefers sweeter booze –something that is more fruity like his usual Cassis Orange. However these days, those cocktails couldn’t shred his woe. He needs something stronger. He needs to be able to feel the burning sensation on his chest, replacing the pain of his heartache.

He went off to flump into the leather couch, putting down the glass of whiskey. He grabs the remote, browsing through the Netflix catalog. He stops, at one move named Kimi no Na wa.

He probably already watched this for million times. He loves this movie. Not only because of the well-executed animation and storyline, but it also reminds him of home.

And it painfully reminds him of her too. How she loved anime, and how her eyes glimmered every time Yuta told her a fun fact about Japanese culture.

“Did you know there’s a trivia behind her name?”

“Who? Mitsuha?”

Yuta nods, “Her name means three leaves. Funnily enough, it started from her grandmother, Hitoha which means one leaf. And you guessed it, her mother’s name, Futaba, means two leaves and her little sister, Yotsuha, is four leaves.”

“Whoa!” She shrieked excitedly. “That’s cute!”

Yuta laughed at the sight of her getting excited over something simple like this. It’s nothing much for a Japanese man like him, but for her it’s something new and Yuta finds it very adorable.

If she was still here, he would cross his arm over her shoulder. Cuddling her.

But right now, all he could do is to rest his arm on the backrest of his couch. The only warmth that he could feel is from the whiskey.

Unable to focus on the movie, so he diverted his attention to see his phone.

Oh, how he regrets it.

He saw her social. She was with a group of people that Yuta knew from that party. But his finger reactively clicked on one of the tagged name’s profiles.

Just to see him posted a photo of her. It was a candid photo, the person captured in the picture seemingly asked the photographer to stop. Her hands were blurred because she attempted to cover her mouth.

But she wasn’t quick enough to stop the photographer from capturing her smile. A smile so bright Yuta knew he wasn’t able to create. A smile that Yuta definitely misses.

The agony he felt amplified once he read the capture below the photo.

“I was yours, before I knew; and you have always been mine too.”

Yuta rolled his tongue over his front teeth. He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, not when he is the one who let her go. But he is pissed, throwing his phone away. 

He moves his palms to cover his eyes, resting his head. He lets out another sigh, but no matter how much he exhaled, no matter how much alcohol he drank, the rain cloud seems to follow him around.

“Fuck this shit.” He hummed to himself.

He took his phone again, this time opening a different app. It took him a bit longer this time, but at least whatever he was doing, managed to put a smile on Yuta’s face.

He then proceeds to dial a number.

“Hello, Doy? I’ll take a week off. I’m flying to Osaka tomorrow.”

–

“How could you come back home without noticing us?”

Yuta puts down his bag, worn out from the flight, “I can’t even visit my own home now, Nee-san?”

“What I meant was,” His sister crossed his arm. “Last time you visited Osaka, you’d stay at the hotel because you wouldn’t stay long. Mostly due to your business trip. What makes you suddenly miss home?”

“I just feel like taking some days off, Nee-san.” He replied without looking at this sister, busy unpacking his stuff. “Also, Imouto has been texting me, telling me to bring her some signed goods from TVXQ.”

“Well if you said so,”  Her sister knows how stubborn Yuta is, so she decides that she won’t press him further. “Come down when you’re ready. If only you told us you were coming earlier, mom would’ve cooked us Nabe. But we don’t have the ingredients, so you have to settle with curry tonight.”

Yuta finally looked back to smile at his sister, “Curry sounds great, Nee-san.”

–

It’s great to be home, Yuta thought to himself. 

The familiar road. People talking in his mother language. Food that is catered to fit his taste buds. He loves Korea, and everything it has to offer, but nothing could replace home.

“My, Yuta is that you?!” An elderly woman called for him, snapping him from his day daze.

“Oh, Baa-chan!” Yuta subconsciously lets out his signature radiant smile. “How are you? I hope your back is fine now.”

“Oh, you’re as sweet as I could remember, Yuta!” She giggled. “You never visit your home, this Baa-chan misses you a lot, you know? I don’t know how to use… what do they call those these days? Line?”

Yuta laughed. “Yes, Line, Baa-chan.”

“Right, I can’t contact you! You should come home more often. I could write you a letter but I don’t know your address in Korea.”

“I miss you too, Baa-chan. Sorry, I promise to visit again.”

Baa-chan sells taiyaki in his neighborhood. Yuta is her regular customer, and she has witnessed how much Yuta grew from a small boy who aspires to be an Ultraman to a successful businessman he is right now. Yuta settled on the bench in front of Baa-chan’s store, filling her with the missing information pieces where Yuta finally left home for his career.

“Now take this,” She offered him a bag of taiyakis.

“Oh, no Baa-chan. Let me pay,” He rustles his pant pocket, trying to find his wallet.

“My dear Yuta!” She pushes the paper bag to him, “This is a gift from me, as a thank you for visiting this old lady. Next time, bring your friend here so they can pay instead. Baa-chan wants to see your friends, I want to make sure they are good people.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. Baa-chan is always kind, and it touches his heart. Yuta treats her like she’s her own grandmother. “I’ll note that, Baa-chan.”

He waves goodbye to her and marches his way to a nearby park. The park used to be so big for the small Yuta. He used to think it would take forever to catch a ball that flies after his friend kicked it too high. But now that he’s a full-grown man, he even wonders how the hell he was able to play soccer with his friend in this field. 

He sits down at the bench, taking a bite of the fresh taiyaki. Baa-chan’s taiyaki is the best. It might be a biased opinion, but every bite is like a memory lane for Yuta. The irreplaceable taste of childhood.

The dusk is near, and there is no child laughter at these hours since all of them have their curfews. With nothing to keep him entertained, he unlocked his phone, casually browsing through his social before pausing his munching at one post.

“Can’t believe this man asked me to spend the rest of my life with him while I’m about to throw the trash away. I hope your future daughter will experience a much more romantic proposal, you weirdo.”

Involuntarily the red bean paste from his bread squirted out, due to the fact Yuta unconsciously squeezed them. Was it out of anger? Out of disappointment? Or out of regret?

His blood is boiling, and with nobody around, nothing stops him. Yuta is usually calm, but right now he just wants to transfer the excessive anger somewhere. Heck, the tree next to him can be his punching bag.

My mom always told me to finish my meal so you’re not leaving until you eat everything.

But right now, Yuta is unable to take another bite. He even forced whatever he had left on his mouth down to his throat.

Why did I let you go?

He scoffed, mocking his own thought, “Damn, what a pathetic person you are, Yuta.”

-

Your first impression on Yuta is probably how strong his aura is. His gaze is sharp, complemented with a well-chiseled jawline. So you would never think that the same person has a sensitive soul. Ever since his trip to Japan, the Nakamato residence in Seoul is always decorated with fresh flowers, handpicked by Yuta himself. This is his way of finding peace. He always wanted to have a pet, but his busy schedule makes him unable to own one. Instead, he’s been paying more attention to greeneries in his home. He said it was a therapy for him, and having a living plant makes the place alive, so he claims.

The bell on the door jingles after Yuta pushes the door open, cueing the staff who were busy arranging a bouquet to greet him.

“Welcome to Paradise!”

Yuta nods at the staff, telling her to continue with her arrangement and let him browse the flower catalog by himself.

Soon after, the bell jingles once more —only to reveal a young man with a sparkly eyes.

“Sorry, __! Taeyong left his apron behind so I have to make a visit to Kitchen Beat first.”

The person at the counter chuckled, “Don’t sweat it, Mark. We’re not that busy today anyway.”

“Let me put my bag first, then I’ll help to cut the stems of the carnations—“ Mark’s eyes grow bigger once he sees the familiar figure. “Yuta-hyung? Ah, I mean, Sir!”

Yuta turned at the sound of his name. “Oh, if it isn’t Mark!”

“Didn’t expect you to come here, Sir.”

“You can talk to me comfortably, Mark. We’re no strangers.” Yuta smiles. “Fancy seeing you here, too. Are you part-timing here?”

Mark nods. “Other than my job as an English tutor, working here actually calms me down. Maybe the flower gives the peaceful atmosphere?”

Yuta hummed, agreeing with his statement.

“Also, I can rest a bit because working here is not as busy as working at a cafe.” Mark continues, “Though we’re going to be busy pretty soon since Jaehyun-hyung ordered so many orchids for his wedding. Man, not just any orchid! If only he knows how difficult it is to obtain—“

Mark stopped at the sight of Yuta’s awkward face.

“Shit, Mark, how could you forget that he was your Noona’s ex-lover.”

He whispered to himself, but the store was fairly quiet with only faint instrumental song in the background —enabling Yuta to listen to each of his words clearly.

Your noona.

“Mark, go change to your uniform.” A female voice breaks the tension, flinching Mark who reactively gives Yuta a deep bow afterward.

Yuta definitely needs time to process what just happened. Pressing his lips together while occasionally biting the skin.

“A cheerful young boy, isn’t he?”

Yuta woke up from his daydream following her calm voice. “Mark is energetic, and I love how positive his energy is. Though sometimes, that can cause him to be slightly dense, too.”

Yuta couldn’t help but to let a single soft chuckle.

“So please forgive him, yeah? I’m sorry I couldn’t help but to overheard your conversation. Don’t take it to the heart, Mark was probably too excited. He didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I know. No offense is taken. I just need some time to digest it.”

“Take your time,” she continued with her bouquet, tying up the ribbon as the final touch. “Though, if I could suggest, I think our daffodils are very pretty today.”

“Daffodils?”

“Yes, the yellow ones on that corner,” she pointed at a bunch of yellow flowers. “I’ll help you with a bunch. It’s on a house, as an apology from making you uncomfortable just now. Are you going to put it on a vase like the usual or are you going to give it to someone?”

Yuta widened his eyes, quickly shook his head, “Oh please no need, I’m not offended by all means.”

“As the owner of this shop, I insist, Sir.”

Yuta hesitates, but eventually gives in. “The usual. Actually, a single bloom is fine. I would feel bad, you know, if you're going to give me a bunch. Business is still business after all.”

His remarks only caused the other party to scoff, “Our business is doing well, Sir. So please don’t fret on it. Anyway, it would mean a different thing if I don’t give you in a bunch.”

“Different thing?”

“Ah,” She closes her mouth with her hand. “Don’t mind too much on it.”

-

After spending the whole day outside, all Yuta needs is a refreshing shower to wash down his sweat. He placed his new floral arrangement on his dining table, before taking his shirt off when he walked towards the bathroom. He threw his shirt to the laundry bag, and unlocked his phone, ready to play his shower playlist.

Bunch of daffodils?

He suddenly remembered how the florist mentioned the different meaning of daffodils. He quickly changed the tab, typing the question on Google.

Smirk appeared on his face, after so many days shied away from the surface.

“Rebirth and new beginnings, huh?” He said to himself. “How cheeky.”

He puts down his phone on the countertop, resting his arms at the sink before looking at himself in the mirror.

Yuta is determined.

He picks up his phone once more, dialing a number.

“Doyoung, do you know the best hair salon here?”

A/N: We’re back with this!! I’m so so excited to continue this hehe~ To be honest... continuing this series gives me a lot of anxiety. What if the audience don’t like it? What if the one who loves Interlude won’t like my approach on continuing the story in Yuta’s POV? At some point it was difficult for me to write this, but as I persistently write this, it became more and more enjoyable and eventually those thoughts don’t appear as much!

Another thing to note, to prevent any confusion, the reader for Prelude will be ___ instead of the usual [Y/N]. [Y/N] belongs to Interlude! So think of her as another character for Prelude!

Also again, I’d like to remind you guys again since there’s only three additional songs, this would be a mini-series instead of a full series like Interlude. But hopefully, you would still give Prelude tons of love too!

[adhd-ranting]

Alright I’m D*pressed So I’m coping by making a tips list of how to live in quarantine.

Literally just get the closest pen and notebook and write out your schedule

I don't care if you have nothing to do.

It can be as simple as just a to do list of simple life sustaining actions because I know some of y'all aren't sleeping or eating.

Remember to take your medicine.

This large chunk of unscheduled time just breeds forgetfulness and carelessness so please remember to take your medications

especially those of you that take medications that cause you serious mental and physical drawbacks if you miss a dose

Drink water

yes you

the one thats slowly shriveling in the corner

go to the sink and fill up a glass

then chug it

Eat. Regularly. Scheduled. Meals

routine is everything

so do me a favor and eat three meals a day at roughly the same time ok?

I don't care if you're not hungry, just eat a saltine or something

Also try to eat at least semi healthy because eating unbalanced meals for days weeks and months... will make you malnourished.

Carnivores

Veggies

Vegans

Stretch

I mean it. This is a threat.

stretch the shoulders that have been hunched over the past two months sitting on the couch doing work on your laptop

stretch your back thats been in a permanent curl sitting in shitty unsupportive positions

stretch your legs that haven't walked more than twenty feet in the past week

Stretch your wrists and hands because working on a computer all day hurts the muscles

Shower/Take care of yourself

just because you don't have physically see anyone doesn't mean you get to skip brushing your teeth

your friends can't smell you but God can 

remember to wash your face

and clean behind your ears

also get dressed

just because you have nowhere to be doesn't mean you get to stay in pajamas all day

getting dressed actually helps with tricking your brain into thinking it needs to actually get work done.

Clean up after yourself

you're home a lot more now which means you're going to be making an even bigger mess.

just please wash your dishes right after you use them and don't let them pile up

you’ll thank me later

also since you’re spending so much time at home now. You no longer have an excuse not to clean. 

“ohh I'm too busy!” 

where are you busy? Just go clean the bathroom.

Let yourself have time to relax

watch some TV

not the news

Play some video games

pet your dog

but dont let it consume your entire day

(dog petting is an exception. you can spend the whole day doing that)

Find something to do with your hands

I’m talking to all you fidgety ADHD kids

learn to knit or something

before you say “I don't have knitting needles” 

use pencils. I did that when I was a kid and my scarves turned out fine.

make a friendship bracelet

if y'all want I will make you a tutorial on some simple designs.

they are literally so easy to make

Learn to weave

Bind a book

Also something I can make a tutorial on! 

you don't need an awl! just a needle and some determination!

the possibilities are endless. just look up the handicrafts wikipedia page and pick one

Lastly....just sleep

I know the prospect of not having to be awake at a certain time just makes it oh so tempting to stay up until 5am but I’m begging you not to

I’ll say it again. 

Just because you don't have anywhere to be doesn't mean you get to stop being a functional human. 

trust me falling asleep at 5am and waking up at 3pm sounds great in theory, but all it does is mess with your brain.

try your best to get to bed at a decent time

and try your best to wake up at a decent time

Heed my warnings and remember to drink water.

[wftc141]

Blackwatch Chapter 9: The Everlasting Spark

8:20 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

November, 2018

Whenever he had free time, Genji would use that chance to meditate. Find a spare room in the Embassy and sit on the carpet floor to immerse himself away from the noise. He needed to pinpoint the very spot to be in the full state of calm. Silence was also vital and he was glad the rooms were also soundproof and privacy screens were provided.

During the previous months, Blackwatch had been dormant for some time and no missions were assigned. NATO had been managing their duties using their alternative and they've been making progress so far. So far, no new attacks were reported since the Null Sector siege in Rome.

Genji had been meditating for a long time as a way to cope in hopes of ensuring his past doesn't catch up to him. It was hard for him back then as a SAT officer after that defining moment years ago. Genji's eyes were shut, shrouded by the shadow of his hood. His breathing movement eased to follow the rhythm of his heartbeat. Genji tried to clear his mind of negative thoughts and painful memories pierced into his brain. Everything around him was dark and silence surrounded him, leaving him immersed in his own void. He felt alone. Shunned. Isolated to the point where the concept of humanity doesn't exist.

Suddenly, Genji heard a rumble from beside him and his eyes opened in a flash. He turned around and noticed his phone on the floor vibrating towards him. Lowering his breathing rate, Genji reached over to his phone and tapped the dial without checking the ID.

"Hello?" He answered

"Hey, Genji. It's me."

Genji's head perked up and he straightened up. He recognized that voice.

"Angela?" He said. Suddenly, his words were stuck in his throat. "Hi. How are you?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking. Just wanted to let you know that I've just landed in Italy."

Genji cocked his head.

"You're in Rome?" He said.

"Yep," Angela replied. Genji could hear her smile through her voice. "Me and my team are getting stationed here with Fareeha's unit for a couple of weeks and since I'm not booked as of right now, I was wondering if we could have lunch together? I've found a nice place where we could grab some Italian cuisine."

Usually, Angela doesn't ask anybody out for lunch while on her days off, instead retreating to her office to have some overdue coffee and a paid meal to keep her up. Genji was one of the few people to witness it, apart from her other friends.

"Where's this coming from?" Genji asked.

"Oh it's just that we haven't seen each other in person for a while and I thought maybe we could do some catching up while we're at it."

Was it normal for good friends of the opposite sex to invite each other to have a meal together, Genji thought. Even as a former Yakuza, he never had any experience with dating women of his type and most were merely escorts for his fellow Yakuza. Friends were never in his dictionary and Angela happened to be the only female friend he had in his life thanks to her intervention and he owed her for it. Her sudden lunch proposal was definitely odd but it wasn't a bad thing.

"If you're busy, then we can try tomo-"

"I would be more than glad to join you today." Genji said.

"Excellent! How's 12 at noon?"

"I'll be there."

"Great! I'll send you the address later. Looking forward to seeing you, Genji!"

The call ended and left Genji back to his own silence. Genji simply sighed and as he got up, he wondered what to wear on his day out.

________________________________________

9:00 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Via Margutta

Another day has passed during Ray's time off and it has been tedious for most of the occasion. Ray stared at the ceiling of his bedroom with the pale light blocked off by the curtains. It has been two months since their last Blackwatch operation and there has been nothing new for them for quite some time. Everybody else was either out throwing a vacation or visiting friends. He wasn't the type to relax elsewhere since he was more set on working on the battlefield.

Ray missed the taste of beer after drinking with Marvel a few days before he left to see a friend of his in London. His mouth was dry and he had just woken up a few hours later than he usually does. Ray let out a grunt as he heaved himself out of the sheets and stepped onto the wooden floorboards, aiming for the bathroom.

Once inside, Ray turned his sink on and began brushing his teeth. After finishing up with his mouth, Ray splashed the cold water onto his face and rubbed his nose. The ice cold sensation felt nostalgic. Finishing up, Ray leaned onto the basin and glanced up at the mirror, facing his reflection. His reflection's eyes were dead straight into Ray's. Some drops of water streamed down the mirror, one sliding past his right eye.

Then the visions flashed before him. The sounds of gunfire and the looming closing of mortars and rockets. Sand and blood coating him as the screams of his teammates from afar and nearby filled his ears.

By the time the visions blinked away, Ray found himself breathing heavily and alone with the tap still running down the sink and the drops fading away.

________________________________________

11:40 AM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Before stepping towards the door, Genji took one last look at himself in the mirror. The scars that practically cover his face were in full view. The particular ones running across the bridge of his nose and his left eye were also exposed now that he ditched the hoodie in favor of a grey coat over his dress shirt. He checked his watch poking from his sleeve: 11:40. Should be enough time for Genji to find the address of the restaurant Angela sent him. Genji slipped on his shoes and left the apartment.

Now on the streets, Genji made his way through the walkway past the shops and cafes nearby. The leaves on the road slid and swept off as the cold breeze blew past him. As he reached the main road, Genji found himself getting looks from others. Most were either disgusted or intimidated by him because of his scars. He couldn't say he blamed them. Anyone would reel back from seeing Genji's scars in public and it wasn't a first for him. Genji paid no attention to the glares and continued his walk.

Shortly, he arrived at the restaurant near the river where the crowds flowed from left to right as well as the sight of the river in front. The restaurant itself felt like it was revisiting the past while also showing its own twist in the modern time. Genji went inside and looked around the crowded tables before noticing the distinct platinum blonde hair on the other side.

Genji approached the table where Angela was. She was still just as pretty as the last time they met in person. Angela's lean arms were laid crossed on the table near the menu which she hasn't opened yet. Her coat was draped behind her over the chair. The blue shirt she was wearing tucked into her skinny jeans goes well with her, if not, makes her look professional.

Once Genji closed in on her table, Angela's corner of her eye caught him and her smile grew as she stood up from her chair to approach him. Genji couldn't help but smile too after noticing hers.

"Genji! So glad to see you!" Angela said as she pulled Genji into a hug.

"You too, Angela," he replied, returning her hug. The scent of perfume filled his nostrils. "Thanks for inviting me."

The two broke off the hug and both looked up at each other. Genji noticed something different about Angela's hair.

"I see you've cut your hair." He said.

"Yes, I did," Angela replied, touching the ends of her shortened hair. Her side bangs swept to her right eye were kept. "Figured I wanted to go for something fresh and practical. You like it?"

"It fits you."

Her smile remained as she fiddled with the locks. "Thanks."

Genji wasn't aware he was staring at her for quite some time before the two realized they were still standing and took their seats hastily. To be precise, Genji wasn't the only one staring.

"Anyways," Angela said as she sat down. Genji removed his coat and hung it behind his chair. "I haven't ordered anything yet apart from some coffee since I haven't had my morning caffeine today and I wanted to wait for you before we figure out what we wanna eat."

"That's really considerate of you. I appreciate that." Genji replied.

"You're welcome. Speaking of consideration," Angela handed him a second menu, similar to the one she was reading from. "I hear this place has some really delicious food."

Genji opened the leather folder and inside were the list of foods with photos beside it and quite a list. There was also an English translation next to the Italian words. Glancing up from the menu, Genji looked at Angela as she continued on about Italian cuisine before chuckling mid-sentence over a bad joke she made.

There was something sweet about the way Angela laughed, especially whenever she made jokes that normal people wouldn't laugh except for Genji. Her angelic-like presence and the way she expressed herself would turn Genji into a different person. A normal person.

Maybe it was because he owed her for saving him from his death that day.

________________________________________

11:52 AM, Local Time

Paris, France

The sound of leaves rustling from above to the wind and the fountain splashing into the river fill the uninterrupted silence.

Amélie Lacroix watched over the river floating to the side as streams of water from the fountain tap clashed with the quintess river pelted with dry leaves. The air was cold so she opted for a wool cashmere coat over her black turtleneck with a skirt and boots accompanied by tights and sunglasses and leather gloves as final touches.

She watched as a handful of couples from a distance passed her eyes, holding hands and talking among each other. She missed the feeling of a warm hand and the steps they took in every walk. Amélie couldn't forget her memories with Gérard Lacroix, her late husband.

He was killed here two years ago in a bombing attack at the facility that used to be Blackwatch's headquarters where he was stationed while Amélie was on a mission. Every year, she would come to Paris to see his burial grave and visit this very park where she found her purpose. The place where she and Gérard met as an assassin.

"I knew I would find you here."

Amélie turned to her left where the voice came from and noticed Gabriel approaching her before stopping a few feet away from her. Like her, he was in winter clothes with a puffer coat over his sport fleece zipped up to his neck and a beanie to brace the cold. Amélie didn't react and looked away from Gabriel.

"You're here because we have a job?" Amélie asked.

Gabriel shook his head. "Just checking in to see how you were doing because of what today is. Mind if I sit with you?"

"I don't see why I should."

Gabriel reached the bench and sat beside Amélie. He let out an exhale and icy air puffed out from his mouth.

"And here I thought you would be in LA to talk things out with your family." Amélie guessed.

Gabriel scoffed. "No, it's a waste of energy."

"How are the others?"

Gabriel slumped back onto the bench, sighing. Another cloud of air streamed out of his lips. "Far as I know, they're doing alright. Genji, Moira and Ray are still in Rome with Jack, Marvel just left for London to see a pilot friend of his, Fio's in the Bahamas, Sombra and McCree… I have no idea where those two are."

Amélie said nothing and looked ahead. Gabriel glanced at her before looking away. Even when her sunglasses conceal her emotion, Gabriel could tell that she was still in mourning.

"Still thinking about Gérard?" He said without looking at her.

Amélie's silence and her frown answered Gabriel's question.

"I miss him too," Gabriel's eyes fell onto the ground. "He was a good friend of mine. And a damn good leader too."

Amélie's willingful commitment to staying silent was telling Gabriel everything she couldn't tell him with her words.

"You know what happened to Gérard wasn't your fault, right?" He said. "I don't understand why you keep carrying that weight around."

A pause filled their gap. Shortly, Amélie lifted her hand to remove her sunglasses. Gabriel took one look at her eyes and he recognized it immediately. It was the eyes of sorrow and guilt.

"I brought him into my life and he died because of what I was," Amélie said, softly. "I could've said that I was a ballet dancer or just… never met him. Gérard would've still been alive if it wasn't for me."

"That's bullshit and you know it." Gabriel said firmly as he faced Amélie. His eyes were showing anger but not at her. "You didn't kill Gérard; Antonio Bartalotti did. We lost our staff to the bombing thanks to that bastard and he's out there as an innocent man, running his business while smuggling weapons and terrorists across Europe under our noses. And because of his connections with the government, we can't go after him."

"You know I find the idea of revenge pointless."

"I don't see why when he's the one who killed your husband."

"And I know killing him won't bring him back," Amélie fired back. "The second I kill Antonio, my husband is still dead. The only person who saw me as a human being rather than a killing machine is gone. Nothing will change that."

Gabriel went silent. Amélie was right and he knew it. She never felt the desire of remorse when she learned of who killed her husband. She only felt guilt and thought this was her past catching up to her, refusing to let her go. The concept of someone going after the person who killed their loved ones felt unsatisfying, let alone useless. Gabriel sighed in defeat and leaned forward.

"Amélie, I'm just asking you to stop beating yourself up," Gabriel said. "You gotta stop carrying that burden of yours, otherwise it's gonna manifest into something you can't control and the effect isn't gonna be pretty. I've seen it before and it's been haunting me ever since."

Amélie didn't respond but Gabriel could see her understanding his point silently. Gabriel looked away from her and faced forward. The two didn't speak for a while and watched over the park as people continued to pass by their sight.

"I can see why you like this park." Gabriel said.

Amélie nodded without glancing back at him. Silence. Gabriel took his beanie off to scratch his scalp. The cold wind blew at his head as the warmth from the beanie dissolved.

"Gabe?"

Gabriel heard Amélie call his name as he put his beanie on and glanced at her. Although she was still staring forward, a faint smile grew from her face.

"Thanks. For that pep talk." She said.

Gabriel simply smiled and looked away.

"You're welcome." Gabriel replied.

The two stayed seated and basked in the cold yet bright sunlight, overlooking the breeze over the winter trees below.

________________________________________

12:15 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

It has been a while since they received the food they've ordered and so far, Genji's lunch with Angela has been eventful and enjoyable. The two have been talking for a while and it was clear they get each other. Angela would talk about work and often add in some personal moments outside of work, such as her strange encounter at a cafe while on a coffee run with her Chinese nurse friend.

Genji would sometimes laugh at the unfortunate moments and feel bad at the same time but those were the moments where he would get the chance to smile and act like a normal person, especially with someone he felt comfortable with.

Then, Angela would get into the serious and sensitive parts about her job as a field doctor handling heavily wounded patients and balancing some sense of levity, especially about the air strikes the US keeps sending in. Angela herself wasn't into the nature of war as much as any normal person was, considering she was a pacifist and most of the time, she could get critical about how President Trump and his office handled the war.

She would often apologise for going too much in depth about her job and Genji would assure her he was fine. He always appreciated how concerned she felt whenever she believed she stepped out of the line when talking about her job.

"Anyways," Angela said, after finishing her story about a patient hit by an air strike. She rested her crossed arms on the table after twirling the locks of her hair, leaning in front of the table. "We're getting shipped off in a few weeks. Don't know where but it's probably gonna be in another war-torn country. On the bright side, Dr. Winston Hayward is joining the team."

Genji's head perked up after hearing a familiar name.

"Winston Hayward? You mean the scientist who used to work for DARPA? I never thought he would get involved in humanitarian work."

Angela nodded. "It was a surprise for me too. He served as a medic in the army before DARPA picked him up. He was interested in my work for a while and offered the team a helping hand."

Genji nodded as he took a sip from his glass of water.

"How about you, Genji?" Angela asked. "How's work going for you?"

Genji's smile faltered. He wasn't sure how to answer that. He told her he was working for NATO but he didn't tell her he was working as a covert operative taking part in possibly illegal missions. Genji wasn't sure how she would feel if he told her he maimed a crime lord with his own karambit. He set his glass on the table and sighed, looking away from her.

"I'm alright," Genji said. "There were good days and bad days."

Angela didn't prod him any further about his work. Part of Genji was thankful but the other half lamented that he couldn't confide in her about what he really does. Angela then noticed a few people staring at Genji, with some whispering to each other. She was quick to pick up on the fact that they were staring at him because of the scars on his face. Genji was also trying his best to ignore the judging looks. Angela couldn't help but feel pity for him.

"I-I'm sorry, Genji. I should have picked a more private place." She said softly, feeling guilty.

"It's okay," he assured. "I feel more comfortable showing my face like this when I'm with you because...you don't see me as a monster like others do."

"That's because you're not. I know it's difficult but the scars you have does not define who you are."

"I know. But what happened still haunts me to this day. I can't outrun it."

Angela looked at him, recognizing that look and the voice. The same as the one he had when he was in the middle of recovery.

"Are the nightmares coming back?" She asked.

Genji looked up at Angela, who gave him an assuring look. He took a deep sigh as he held his hands.

"Every time I look in the mirror," Genji said. "I see my brother instead of myself. Every time I try to sleep, I see the Shimada elders order my brother to kill me. Every night, I would wake up, drenched in cold sweat and I would sit on the floor in the dark making sure the clan doesn't go after me because of what I've become."

"Are you still meditating?" Angela asked.

A weak nod came from Genji. "Always, but it's not enough to push those nightmares back. I couldn't remember how long I fought but I remember every cut my brother gave all over me and every hit I made until my limbs gave up. I still remember how it felt too."

Genji wasn't aware his hands were balled into trembling fists. This wasn't the first time he told Angela about his condition but any time he talked about, it would trigger the trauma in his mental state. Then, Genji felt contact with one of his fists. He glanced up and noticed Angela's hand holding his right fist and the shaking stopped.

"I know how painful it is to carry that trauma for a long time, Genji," she said. "I understand how you feel. I carried a lot of pain when I was a kid and it was agonizing for me to face the reality. But I made it through and I want to help people like me. That's why I became a doctor for a reason."

Genji's fists began to unroll and laid flat on the table as Angela's hands held his.

"I know you'll make it through this, Genji. I've been with you for a long time to know that you're strong. But if you ever need help and you can't find someone you feel comfortable with, I'm here for you and I'll help you in any way possible."

Genji looked up at her. Her soothing voice bordered on the lines of angelic. Genji felt a sense of relief and calm being able to talk out his deep issues with his first and close friend. He smiled in return of her assuring words.

"I'll keep that in mind," Genji softly said, looking back at his hands. "Thanks."

"You're more than welcome." Angela replied, smiling back.

The two didn't move for a brief moment as the idle chatter around them drowned out their thoughts. Genji then looked down to his plate and noticed something.

"You know," he said. "We've been talking for quite a while and not once have we touched our food."

Angela blinked before looking down and realizing what he meant.

"Oh my, you're right about that." She said.

Genji couldn't help but chuckle. "Didn't expect that we would talk more than we've eaten."

They both laughed, easing any sense of tension between one another before they got back to eating their meal. They still talked as much as they ate but they drifted towards a more lighthearted path. Angela still had more tales to tell and Genji's smile never faltered since then.

________________________________________

12:46 PM, Local Time

Rome, Italy

Embassy of the United States

Jack Morrison took a sip of his coffee as he read over the mission reports from Blackwatch as well as the dossiers of their operatives. He had just finished reading Genji's dossier and moved on to Ray's. Some of the operatives' backgrounds involved their former lives as career criminals before getting hired by NATO. Others were former military and conducted significant operations early on. Jack didn't expect Gabriel to even consider hiring criminals to work under his hand. Not that he ever played by the rules.

A sudden knock from his office door cut through his thoughts.

"Come in." Jack said.

He heard the door open and footsteps follow through. Jack looked up from the dossiers and noticed it was the team leader of the Valorant Protocol, Brimstone. His Valorant tag hung in front of his sky blue shirt hugging his shoulders. His right hand was also holding a Manila folder.

Jack set the files aside and drank his coffee. "I take it Chechnya was a success?"

Brimstone placed the folder next to Jack's among the pile. "Like a walk in the park. No one suspected we were there, no bodies were dropped and the CIA have the American terrorist in their custody."

Jack grunted in approval as he placed his mug on the desk. "Good job as always, Brimstone. Get you and your team some rest. You all deserve it."

With that said, Jack went back to continuing his reading on Ray's dossier. As he read the file, the footsteps in front of him stopped.

"I got something to ask, Jack," Brimstone said. "Do you trust Blackwatch?"

Jack stopped reading. He knew there was going to be a time where Brimstone would inquire about Blackwatch. Brimstone was not just the team leader - he co-founded this unit with Jack and he was well aware of Blackwatch's existence for a while. Sighing, the commander set his hands on the desk, interlocking his fingers.

"Yes. I do. But the thing is… I believe Blackwatch should not be operational anymore."

"Why's that?" Brimstone asked.

"The world is changing and trustworthy allies are the key to stabilizing a nation. We're making significant progress for NATO and the UN with the Valorant Protocol and we've managed to earn trust from other countries. Blackwatch however… could be a compromise to our goal."

"So we're their replacement?"

"Precisely. The higher ups may need Blackwatch but I want to prove to them that it should be shut down. We've been solving most of NATO and the UN's problems diplomatically and I don't want a black ops kill unit ruining our chances in bringing peace to all nations if they can't trust us."

Brimstone had nothing else to say about Blackwatch and turned away for the door. As he heard the door close, Jack looked back down to the files before going for another sip of his black coffee. Truth be, as much as he believed in Blackwatch's cause, Jack found their methods risky and the risks they make would only drive other countries apart should they ever find out about what they've been doing. He could only hope for Gabriel to understand that but it would take a miracle to convince him.

________________________________________ 

11:00 PM, Local Time

Zambia

The convoy of trucks drove through the terrain over the tracks engraved between the trees. The headlights shone down the road as the only light source in the desolate forest of Zambia. A Talon strike team was deployed into the country to meet a potential partner for their organization. For air support, an Mi-24 Hind was sent in to accompany them as their eyes in the skies.

Inside the trucks stamped with the signature 'T' insignia on the side, Talon soldiers glued to the seats bobbed up and down as the truck went through uneven terrain. They were all sporting Talon-issued uniforms under their plate carriers and pads covering most of their vital areas, as well as M50 gas masks fitted under their helmets with NODs attached.

Everybody else wore the same masks except for Captain Cuerva, the strike team's commanding officer in the leading truck. Apart from his uniform and gear, he had a red beret bearing the 'T' flash and a jet black neck gaiter. He was as merciless as people say and a force to be reckoned with whenever he led his team during his missions, especially with Mauga, the squad's titan. This was also a rare occasion for Cuerva to get in the field to personally oversee the operation whenever there were complications.

Shortly, the trucks arrived at the riverside village where the gate was guarded by AK47-wielding militants. Because they were expecting them, the militants opened the gate and silently let the trucks in while the Hind hovered above them. As the trucks drove down the path, they were met with glares from several militants from outposts and on the sidewalk. Most of the locals were nowhere to be seen with empty markets and shops.

Once the trucks reached the plaza next to the main hut, the trucks came to a complete stop and shortly, Talon soldiers hopped out one by one and landed on the pale mud. There, the soldiers gathered into their positions and faced the militants while several turned to the hut where their partner would be in. Mauga stood in front of his men, knowing his size and weapon would ensure support and maximum damage. Cuerva was the last to get out and without a word, he headed up the stairs leading to the hut and signaled for both Mazzei and Doubleday to escort him.

As he ignored the condescending glares from the militants, Cuerva and his men went inside and found the office of the militant's leader. Inside the office accompanied by a straw backdrop, the successor of the Macaba militia Kwame Macaba glared at the Captain, knowing who he was. His guards watched with caution running in their eyes as Cuerva stood by the doorway with his escorts. Their begrudging glares reflected onto the unnerving visors of their gas masks. Cuerva paid no attention to them and sat down on the couch across Kwame's before pulling down his neck gaiter.

"Sorry for the sudden visit, Mr. Macaba," Cuerva said. "I understand that you're still dealing with the loss of your brothers but we have a proposal that you may find beneficial to your operations."

Cuerva stared at the man of Talon's interest. Youngest brother of the family, forced to take control of the militia after the death of his brothers a few months back. Knowing him, his family would be hiding upstairs.

"Our leader received a call from you saying that you do not wish to be part of our cause or accept our money that we offered you." Cuerva continued.

"We will not be accepting your blood money or an alliance with you." Kwame growled.

Cuerva chuckled. "Seems like we haven't convinced you well enough. First off, we're not here to negotiate money. We're more than that. Consider us partners looking to help spread your influence across Africa and strengthen your army because you will need it."

"You best leave now if you know what's good for you."

"I'm afraid that's not going to happen. And you might as well watch what you say or there will be consequences for you and your family. Wouldn't want to end up like your brothers, yes?"

Tensions were raised. Kwame's hand clenched into a fist as he glared at Cuerva, clearly taking offence to what he said. Mazzei and Doubleday remained cautious as they eyed the militants, knowing they could open fire at any minute. A smirk curved from the corner of his lip.

"I've read that your brothers were killed trying to take control of Africa and the first thing they did was going after the people running the country," Cuerva said. "That was a bold and ambitious move - a naive one if you get my gist."

Kwame was itching to lunge at him at any moment but he would've done so by now if it weren't for the Talon soldiers watching him.

"And I also found it funny about how your brothers died. Dede Macaba went out of his way to use a child as a bargaining chip before the military shot him dead. I mean, talk about being a 'warrior' who'd rather die a coward than fight as a man. And Arno? Let's just say he failed before he even started."

Kwame gritted his teeth as his fists shook and Cuerva was more than glad to see his face contort into hate.

"You dare speak ill of my family's sacrifices?!" Kwame hissed.

"Oh I dare because I'm the one holding you and your people's lives in my hands," Cuerva said smugly. "I'm just trying to negotiate peacefully here and you're making this very difficult. All Talon wants is an alliance with you and your militia. You see, we believe humanity can only evolve through everlasting conflict. We're gathering organisations who are willing to contribute in making sure the human race grows stronger through war and terror."

Kwame's expression doesn't change, still glaring at the Captain.

"Talon can make you the most powerful man in Africa," Cuerva continued. "We'll provide your militia with better weapons, gear, training and materials for your operations. We can give you all of that with just a flick of a pen and with all the funding from us, you could achieve everything your brothers had been longing for. All you have to do is shake my hand and we can cut you a deal."

Cuerva then outstretched his hand to Kwame. Without a second thought, Kwame smacked it away as if it was a fly. Cuerva was unfazed by his rude gesture.

"The reason why I refused in the first place was because you and Talon are not soldiers, not warriors… you are terrorists who kill for money and sport. My people will never be part of that."

Cuerva stared at him for a moment before sighing and leaning back.

"Very well then," He then reached for his comms. "Negotiations failed. Prepare to clean house."

Shortly, gunfire erupted from outside surprising Kwame and his guards. Talon soldiers posted outside were under orders from HQ to kill the militia whenever the negotiation didn't work out. Kwame was quick to realize what Cuerva ordered and attempted to reach for his holster. Cuerva beat him to it and he shot the leader in the head before he could even touch the gun. Blood sprayed onto the floor and as soon as Kwame went limp, Mazzei and Doubleday took out the guards with ease and smooth synchronization.

Glancing at the stream of smoke oozing from the suppressor, Cuervo got up from the couch and approached Kwame's body. He stared at the dead leader with eyes of disappointment.

"Such a shame, Mr. Macaba," Cuerva said. "We would've had potential working together. Oh well, only fools would go for someone who's useless."

Cuerva then turned away to the doorway.

"Take care of the family." He ordered as he walked off.

"Yes, sir." Both Mazzei and Doubleday complied.

The two went past Cuerva and headed the opposite direction of him to find the rest of Kwame's family, checking their mags as they moved out. As the heavy footsteps faded out, Cuerva walked down the corridor and for the front entrance.

"Akuma 1, you are cleared hot," Cuerva said. "Send those bastards a message."

The sounds of the MG outside raining down from above accompanied the melody of the gunfire below. Walking out of the hut, Cuerva watched as his men moved from several spots in the dark hunting down the militants.

He already noticed several bodies of the militants in front of him as well as several buildings and markets left on fire. The rockets from the chopper then hit the village with immense velocity and obliterated almost everything in sight to ensure no survivors while also avoiding Cuerva's smell of burnt wood and straws filled his nostrils as he watched the flames light up the dark sky and burning wood melt into the river. Screams from afar filled the air of silence, drowned by the gunfire slowly catching up to them.

The Captain simply pulled out a cigar from his pocket, lit it with a match and watched the village burn to the ground. The embers before him sparked brighter like fireworks, making Talon's mark on their steps to the glory of never-ending conflict.

[alliswell21]

Remorse and Absolution

For @lovely-tothe-bone. Sorry it took me so long.

Rated T, for mentions of canonical violence, and implied intimate encounters.

>>————->

The evening starts as usual: we cook dinner together, set the table and one of us runs to Haymitch’s to drag him over for supper. After dinner, Peeta and Haymitch play a few turns of their permanent chess game set up in the study, while I tackle the dirty dishes, since I’m feeling generous.

I join the guys in the study when I’m done in the kitchen, and curl up in a cozy chair with a book my mother sent from District 4 a while ago. It’s an easy read, just a few poems about flowers and plants that usually keeps my mind relaxed and distracted. The guys share a few quiet chuckles, and I smile at my book absentmindedly. I can’t help it. Laughter sometimes feels a little alien to us, but the sound is becoming more and more frequent with every season that passes.

Dr. Aurelius isn’t completely useless after all. He’s encouraged us to keep simple routines in our day to day, and so far we’ve found it beneficial for all of us.

After a while, Haymitch starts bouncing his leg anxiously. A clear sign he’s ready for a drink, and since Peeta and I discourage the use of liquor in our house, the old man cracks his knuckles and calls it a night after moving his piece. I wish we could break him out of the habit, but we all have our coping mechanisms; Haymitch’s happens to be at the bottom of a bottle. At least his alcohol intake has decreased some since he started raising his geese. The feathered monsters can be a handful tough, but they keep Haymitch preoccupied enough to stay sober at times.

I count that as a plus.

“I’ll walk you home.” Peeta tells Haymitch as soon as our old mentor stands from his rocking chair. His tone is casual, jovial even, but Haymitch and I know Peeta so well, we pick up the hidden message. He wants a word, privately.

“Sure. It’s been a long day, and I may need an extra pair of hands to help me secure the geese’s hatch. The stupid birds keep pecking at it. Soon they’ll be running wild all over the place.” Haymitch drawls, scratching his chin.

His sharp Seam eyes search Peeta’s countenance before cutting to me in something that could pass as boredom, if wasn’t for the way his eyebrow twitches.

I shrug infinitesimally, letting him know that I neither know what’s Peeta up to, or have any objections on the matter.

Haymitch shrugs too, and plucks an apple turnover from a plate by their chess table. “Sweetheart,” He nods and salutes me, stuffing his mouth obnoxiously full of pastry. He slouches out of the room beckoning Peeta to follow him. “Alright, Boy, lets get on with it. That hatch ain't gonna fix itself.”

By the time Peeta comes back, I’m getting ready for bed.

He joins me in the bathroom, as another of our nightly routines, we take turns using the toilet and then wash our faces and brush our teeth together at the sink. It should feel strange going to the bathroom with a boy, but after moving in together and becoming a real couple, Peeta and I have grown comfortable with each other— in my case— comfortable enough to be human in front of him.

I keep looking at him through the mirror over the sink though. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet since returning from Haymitch’s.

“Everything okay?” I ask around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Hmm.” He grunts in ascent, switching water in his mouth before spitting it out. “Yeah.” He says, but sounds unconvinced.

I rinse my mouth and dry my lips with a towel, still studying his face while he tidies up the counter.

“You know you can tell me if anything is bothering you, right?” I say unraveling my braid and combing out the strands with my fingers.

“I know.” He tells me softly. After a minute, he stutters a breath. “It’s just… I don’t wanna bother ‘you’.” He says looking at me sheepishly, and then stands behind me with my hair brush.

He loves helping me brushing and rebranding my hair, so I let him do it every night. He’s gotten almost as good as I too. Normally, this is my favorite time of our grooming routine. Having him play with my hair relaxes and soothes me like nothing else; but tonight I just stew in his words.

I come to the conclusion that whatever’s on his mind, has to be awful for him to think he’ll upset me by it.

I scowl, and dig deep for some courage; after all he’s done for me, the least I can do is repay his kindness and help him out, even if it’s something that could potentially send me cowering under the covers for days.

“Peeta,” I turn to face him, running my hand up and down his muscled arm. “We’re in this together. No matter what. You can tell me anything.” I tell him honestly.

He sighs heavily.

He holds my hand and together we walk into our bedroom. He motions for me to sit on the bed, then lowers himself next to me. It takes him another moment to gather his thoughts, finally, his eyes find mine, holding my whole attention.

“Today in my call with Dr. Aurelius, we talked about apologizing to people I’ve physically hurt. Even if they’re not around anymore.”

“Oh,” I breathe out. “That’s a tall order. I’m so sorry, Peeta.” I say taking his hand in mine. By my count, all the people Peeta ever touched violently, died right after. “It must’ve been hard for you, trying to make amends like that.”

He shakes his head. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I mean, I felt myself slipping at one point, but I managed to stay in my own mind…” he trails off, his blue eyes glass over, and for a moment I’m frightened an episode is coming, but then his eyes refocus on me. And it’s not better when he holds my gaze.

So much sadness and guilt, a chill runs up my spine.

“Apologizing to the dead wasn’t the hard part.” He confesses softly, gently. “There’s one person I hurt, who’s still here, breathing. Alive. The problem is she’s the hardest one to even start talking to, because I can’t quite remember what happened, or what was actually said or done to trigger the attack.” Peeta’s voice breaks a little, his eyes intense on mine. “My mind was so confused. Whatever happened during those moments when fear gripped my like a vice, is fogged up in my memory, and some people may say is for the better, because who’ll want to know the monstrosities one is capable of…?”

I try to remain oblivious to what he’s saying, but his meaning is hard to miss when spoken with such vehemence.

He continues, “What I know about the incidents, is only what I was told by others. At first, I didn’t believe a word of it.” He shakes his head and looks away in shame for a moment, “Not until I saw footage of myself acting like a rabid mutt. A madman, killing an innocent just to get to a defenseless girl, who didn’t do anything to hurt me. Not really.”

My heartbeat quickens at his words. Pain and fear snake around my chest, wrapping tightly over my heart, and breathing becomes a chore. I shake my head, “It wasn't like that... it wasn’t—“ a small noise, like a sob, cuts the rest of my words short.

“Katniss,” this time is Peeta squeezing my hand in his. “We don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to. As I said, the last thing I want, is to upset you.”

I shake my head and manage to croak out, “No, Peeta, I think we have to. I’m not terribly keen on remembering those days, but like everything in our lives, we need to face our fears and stop pretending they’re not there.” I squeeze my eyes shut for a second. “What do you need to know?” I ask before my resolve disappears.

“I’m not sure. Honestly, I want nothing less than to know all the awful things I did and said to you then, Sweetheart. But it feels wrong, hypocritical, apologizing to you without first owning my crimes and shortcomings.”

My heart breaks a little. For both of us.

All the mess up stuff done to us, and even now we have to fight to get away from the pain they caused us.

“Is that why you wanted to speak to Haymitch alone?” I ask, “To learn from him what happened that day? The day you—“ my hand goes to my neck involuntarily, but the words I whisper are less threatening, less damning. “The day you were rescued from the Capitol,”

Peeta sighs a tremulous “Yes.” After a pause, he explains, quietly, “I had to know, and Haymitch wouldn’t sugar coat it or lie about it to spare my sanity.” We’re silent for a moment and then he brings my hand to his lips. “I’m sorry I let them turn me into that monster, Katniss.”

I’m not sure what exactly happens next, but one soft, apologetic kiss, turns into two, three, six, ten. His lips hover, feather like, over the skin of my wrist, traveling to my forearm and then keeps going up to my shoulder. Our eyes stay entranced unto one another, as much as we can sitting like we are. An unbreakable connection. The apology is etched in the depths of his intense blue eyes, and I don’t have the power to look away or deny him this.

Sitting side by side, requires some readjustment when Peeta’s kisses reach my neck. My eyes finally shut when his hot breath fans over the place my skin tingles with the memory of finger shaped bruises.

“I’m so sorry, Katniss.” He murmurs against my throat. “I’m sorry I became a piece in their games.” His kisses go from tight lipped, to open mouthed, and his hand cups my cheek to keep my head in place as he paints apologies over my neck and throat.

“I’m sorry I let them turn me against you, darling.” His free hand wraps around my waist lightly, “I allowed them to turn me into a weapon, to destroy you. I’m sorry my mind was so warped, they almost succeeded.”

“But you’re better now,” I exclaim wrapping my fingers around his, abruptly turning to face him completely.

My eyes fill with tears because his real self is here, with me, and none of the schemes the Capitol or Coin tried to use, to put us as odds with each other, worked.

They lost! And against the odds, we won. Another day this victory will seem empty and small, but not tonight. Tonight, knowing Peeta reclaimed his mind back and came home to help me do the same, is all that matters.

“You’re better now,” I repeat, and then is me kissing his mouth, holding him tight, “You’re you. My Peeta. My sweet, tender Boy with the bread.” Every word is marked with a peck to his lips, cheeks, eyes. “They couldn’t break you, not completely. You broke free at the end. You brought yourself back to me.”

He pulls me flushed against him then. “Oh, Sweetheart, I’ll always come back to you. You’re my entire life. My safe heaven. My home.”

“And you are mine.”

We lean into each other. Our kisses rapidly escalates from reassuring press of the lips, to hungry exploration of each other’s mouths.

Our bodies slowly lower to the mattress; our hands roam freely under sleep wear and my fingers tangle in his soft hair. We move fluidly, in familiar, comforting motions together.

Peeta kisses my jawline up and down; one warm hand slides from my side, up to my shoulder and around to caress over my collarbones with gentle, loving fingers.

“I don’t think I will ever be able to stop apologizing for hurting you,” He says placing small kisses behind my ear. “Hijacked or not.” He nudges me back, until my head falls on my pillow. “But I pledge to spend the rest of my life trying.” He promises before shifting himself to hover above me.

I cradle his hips between mine, but Peeta contents himself with just resting his weight there while his clever, caring fingers massage the skin on my neck tenderly.

“Please, Katniss. Could you ever forgive me for what I did? I keep trying to picture myself wrapping my hands around your neck with the intent to harm you, and I just—”

“I know. That wasn’t you.” I tell him caressing his face.

His eyes shine with unshed tears. “But maybe it was though.” He says miserably. “Everyone keeps saying they use venom to twist my feelings for you until I couldn’t even recognize myself, but what if the hatred and resentment had been there all along? There’s an all consuming rage deep within me, Katniss. It ran in my mother’s veins. I could feel it in mine too, dormant, simmering beneath the surface. I kept a short leash on it when I could help it, but the Capitol found it, dug it out, and magnified it to use against you. How could you ever forgive me for almost choking the life out of you?”

“Peeta,” I sigh to the ceiling, curling my fingers into the hair at his nape, bringing his face deeper into the crook of my neck where I can keep him safe from himself, “I forgave you the moment you remembered your promise of ‘Always’.” I tell him looping my other arm around his shoulder. “I forgave you because your true self is kind, and loving, and sweet. Maybe there is anger and rage inside you, but your selflessness is far greater. Your will power is what makes me love you. You came back from the mutt, and that’s why forgiving you was so easy. You didn’t let it eat you up like Snow and Coin expected. You’re stronger than that.”

How could I ever doubt a boy who’s always put my well-being before his own? How could I believe he would purposely hurt me, when his actions spoke so loudly to the contrary in the past?

To show him I trust him intrinsically and accept his apology without reservations, I tilt my head back, presenting him with my bare throat. I don’t care if this position leaves me vulnerable, I know he loves me, and despite all those walls I built around my heart to keep me from falling in love, I’ve finally admitted, I love him back.

“Thank you, Katniss. For having faith in me. For giving me another chance and not giving up on me in those sewers.”

“You didn’t give up on me either. I think we are finally on leveled ground.”

I feel his smile against my cheek before his lips find my own.

“I will still spend the rest of my life, making it up to you, Sweetheart.” He whispers into my jaw, his other hand joins the sweet ministrations of the first one, pouring his devotion into each one of his light touches over my clavicle and throat, as if trying to sooth the memory of the bruises away… he may just manage to erase them for good if he keeps kissing me like this.

He’s etching his adoration and love for me with so much reverence on every inch of flesh he can reach.

His caresses and kisses descend from my face to my clavicle, his hands move the thin material of my night shirt down my arms, revealing yet more skin, and his reverent kisses turn into hungry nips and pecks, that only serves to make our hunger greater. Our hands seek more skin, more warmth, more friction, not quite satisfying.

We’ve made love almost every night since the day I told him my love for him is real, but tonight, when we join our bodies and become one, is different. With every gasp, caress and whispered promise, we make right a wrong, and put a painful episode behind us. We heal, forgive, and forget.

As his strokes and soothes my neck with tender touches, I know in my heart, that we will be okay.

We still have a long road ahead of us. What we went through has left deep wounds physical and emotional, that won’t heal overnight; we will have to work very hard to overcome guilt, sadness, and anger, but tonight, we’ve grown in our love, and that’s one more reason to smile than we had yesterday.

Maybe one day laughter won’t be alien anymore.