#i just need to settle down enough to sleep but i am wide awake

[punkrott]

getting real tired of like. nightly ‘curled up in a ball sobbing’ type breakdowns fr

#getting tired of my own shit!!!!!!!! #i know it’ll be Better once i move and i get settled #i need to keep reminding myself that i will not always feel this way and that i will feel better soon #just gotta. keep pushing through until i get to that point #i’ve just been scaring myself a little lately #but in like two weeks i will be on da road!!! #why does every big emotion feel like literal torture jesus christ why can’t i just be Sad and sentimental like a normal person #like i’ve been crying off and on all fuckin night i feel like throwing up good god #i just need to settle down enough to sleep but i am wide awake

[politemenacephd]

Arachnophilia (Part Sixteen)

Drider!Miguel O'Hara x Reader (+18)

Chapter Masterlist 🕷️

Content: Mild Voyeurism, Fingering, Oral (reader giving), Fear Kink, Monster Fucking, Spicy bath time.

Word count: 4640

The morning rolled in with a thick coat of mist, one that settled beneath the tree line and obscured everything in a soft, white void. It was a peaceful, isolated world out here.

Up in the nest you were only just barely stirring, sleepily mumbling as you rolled beneath the silk sheets.

Mig, however, was wide awake. He was watching you as you slowly shifted onto your side, nestling into his fur. His eyes were endlessly endeared. He didn’t want to be strange, and he had enough distant memories of his humanity to know that watching you sleep might seem like odd behaviour, but he loved it too much.

Watching you live in his presence, even doing small things like sleeping or shuffling in the sheets or eating or bathing, it was such a comfort to him. Seeing you exist was fascinating. Perhaps he was still stuck trying to convince himself you were real.

His eyes moved to the window, noting the light outside. It was getting towards dawn, and you’d likely need to return to the society today. What a shame, he thought, his fur bristling with discomfort. He would have to see you off again.

It was in that soft melancholy that he suddenly remembered something rather important. He bent and awkwardly shifted the sheet around your thighs.

God, the heat that erupted in his chest at just the sight, it was maddening. Your soft, plush skin, coated in little red marks and shimmering with the leftover trails of cum and sweat and slick, it made him weak. He coughed to stop himself from going too far, and quickly moved to cover you again.

You couldn’t go to the society like that. You’d be so uncomfortable, and he didn’t want you to be embarrassed, poor thing. Plus, you’d probably want to talk with him about what happened last night, if not right now then at some point before you had to face Miguel yourself.

Gently he bent and pressed a kiss to your forehead, his soft forelegs pawing at your hair to wake you.

‘Mi tesoro?’

You blinked, your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light.

‘Mm?’

It was all you could get out, and yet Mig’s smile only widened. ‘Sweet thing. You are so sleepy, mi bella durmiente.’

‘You tired me out’ you grumbled, your face half obscured now by his black and red fluff.

‘I know. I apologize.’

‘Oh, no—don’t apologize, my god, I am- very grateful’ you said, your face half turned to reveal a lazy half-smile. His own smile widened until his fangs were bared, their pearly sheen glinting in the pastel dawn light.

‘Sweet thing’ he repeated, ‘sweet little spider. I’m sorry, but, I believe you will have to leave soon. For the society. Would you, like me to help you get clean?’

Immediately you groaned, your smile fading as you nestled deeper into the sheets. ‘Oh no, not the spring. It’s freezing.’

‘You do not like the spring?’

‘It’s—it’s an outdoor spring, Mig, it’s COLD. I can handle it sometimes but—oh, god, I’m gonna have to aren’t I?’

Miguel grunted. Even your minor distress perturbed him deeply.

‘No, no, don’t you worry mi tesoro. I didn’t realize you felt that way. I will…’ He paused to think, his paws tapping back and forth like fingers drumming on a piece of wood. ‘I will… we have that basin, downstairs, I can fill it with water from over the fire. I’ll warm it for you. Would that be, acceptable?’

‘Mm… Are you sure Miggy?’ you said, awkwardly manoeuvring onto your elbow so you could see him. ‘I don’t—’

‘Mi arañita, how many times do we go over this? I like to do things for you.’ Mig bent as he spoke, his forehead coming down to nestle against yours. His breath as he huffed was warm and sweet on your face, and his eyes up against yours were so round and wide and red. You bumped his nose with your own and heard that strange little chuckle erupt in his throat.

‘I like to do things for you’ he murmured. ‘So let me. Please.’

You sighed, but, this time you capitulated easily. ‘Okay. Okay. I’ll do the warm water thing. And to be nice, I’ll even let you watch’ you said with a slight smile.

The unironic joy in his face made you giggle.

‘You are- very, nice to look at, when you bathe’ Mig breathed. ‘Though that, may be more to do with the coldness. You look, very… tight. Very…’

‘Perky. You wanna say perky, right?’ you said, your face tilting to catch his eye. You could see he looked embarrassed.

‘Yes, that- yes. Yes. But I will put that aside to ensure you are warm. Now you go back to resting.’

While you nestled back into the sheets Mig rose to his feet and began creeping towards the door. He had that soft, dumb smile on his face even then, but it faded as he pushed the door aside.

That smell was still there.

That smell. Him.

He hadn’t left.

Mig shot one look back at you as you snuggled up into the sheets. You seemed unphased, likely either ignorant or unbothered by the man’s presence. Either way was good. He darted his head once, twice, before deciding to finally descend and face him.

As Mig settled on the dewy grass below the nest he found Miguel right where he’d left him last night; back to the tree, slumped on the ground with his knees turned up and his arms folded, his whole body looking sickly and exhausted.

Mig thought about ignoring him, but something made him stay. He didn’t look at Miguel with the fear he used to, but most surprisingly he didn’t feel that same animosity from last night. He was annoying, yes, and a verifiable menace, but a threat? After seeing the man on the floor, whining, watching him mate with his partner with those needy eyes, it was hard to even be angry at him.

He’d won. Now he just felt bad.

‘You remained, I see’ Mig said, his breath condensing hard in the air.

Miguel scowled, his lack of sleep obvious by the dark circles beneath his eyes. He refused to meet Mig’s gaze as he gently patted over.

‘We have a set-up here if you need to bathe’ Mig said, his legs folding so that he could sit beside him. Miguel stiffened. ‘I built a full uh, well as full as it can be out here, bathroom set-up for mi tesoro to use. You are welcome to—’

‘Shut up’ Miguel snapped. Mig blinked, unphased.

‘Well, it still stands. I don’t know if you’re going to continue this charade of watching but if so you may want to consider your health long term. It gets cold out here.’

‘Why are you—so, calm?’ Miguel said, his eyes shamelessly roaming the man’s body. Mig blinked again.

‘Well, you’re not a threat anymore’ he said, matter-of-factly. Miguel seethed at how unbothered he was; there wasn’t a trace of denial or false confidence in his tone, he truly didn’t see Miguel as a problem anymore.

‘You’re a fool if you think that’ Miguel replied.

‘I am, not, though, am I?’ Mig noted. To Miguel’s horror, the spiders red eyes moved over to a particular patch of grass, one slightly dewier than the others. Miguel felt his face burning up.

‘I sensed you, relieving yourself, last night. Don’t worry, I—didn’t tell them.’

‘Oh, how noble of you’ Miguel sarcastically grunted.

‘I find it, grotesque, but… you showed me sympathy before, and I don’t forget that. I will choose to show you sympathy here.’

‘Get away from me.’

‘I do not want to be at odds with you’ Mig said gently.

‘You—fucked them in front of me!’ Miguel spat, suddenly jolting to try and subdue the large man. Mig looked down, unphased, as Miguel seethed and huffed, his fangs bared.

‘Yes. I know. I don’t apologize for it. You could have left, but you didn’t. You wanted to watch, and I made sure you understood finally that I am not your sad little scapegoat anymore. You needed humbling.’

Mig’s cold, calculated, and yet wholly earnest rebuttal brought Miguel to his metaphorical knees. He couldn’t fight this. He was still plotting internally, rocked by conflicting feelings of anger, guilt, confusion, and somehow admiration.

‘What is your problem, sir?’ Mig asked genuinely. ‘I don’t understand. I don’t believe you truly love my little spider—’

‘Ay por Dios—stop calling them that, its—disgusting’ Miguel hissed.

‘Hmm. No. That is how I call them, so, I will continue. But, as I was saying, I don’t believe you love them. Not like I do. But you… reek of loneliness. It is, unnerving. And you pursue them, and me, with something that would imply jealousy, and yet I cannot believe it is them you desire. So, what is it?’

Miguel narrowed his eyes. ‘Hmf. You want the truth?’

Mig nodded and watched patiently as Miguel sat up straight.

‘You idiot. No, I don’t love them. You just—cruelly showed me something I’m not allowed to have, throwing it in my face with your lack of regard for their safety, and it—broke me, temporarily. But it doesn’t change anything. We are not supposed to be happy.’

‘How can you know that?’ Mig asked, his head tilted. Miguel scoffed.

‘I don’t know what it is about us, but—every time, I’ve come close to being happy, it’s taken from me. The same is true of you but you just can’t seem to see it. You are chasing someone from a different universe, how will that work? Will they wear the watch forever, until they die? If they take it off their DNA will disintegrate. You can’t have children, you can’t buy a home, you can’t get a normal job, you can’t buy food or water or necessities. How will you care for her if she is sick, or old, or tired? How will you give her anything but this? You are dangerous. You have blood on your hands, as all O’Hara’s do.’

Miguel sighed and ran both hands down his face as he drolly listed all their issues upfront. ‘Even love wouldn’t be enough to just, paint over those issues, and I know you’re not in deep enough too—’

‘I… think, I do love them, actually’ Mig blurted.

When Miguel turned, he found that his counterpart had softened. His eyes were sad, round, downturned. He looked, scared?

‘I think, I am in love with them’ he repeated.

Miguel scoffed openly to his face. ‘You idiot—no you don’t.’

‘I do.’

‘You don’t know what love is—’

‘I do. I’ve been in love. You know I have.’

Miguel grunted and lowered his head into his hands. It looked like he was in pain.

‘Don’t. Don’t you dare invoke Dana right now.’

‘Dana didn’t love us’ Mig said. There wasn’t a shred of hesitation in those sad little words. ‘Me, or you. You know that.’

To his surprise, Miguel didn’t fight back.

‘She may have liked what we were, but… we were young. It feels like another lifetime now. But she left you, and she—’ he choked on the words and forced them down. They both knew what he meant. ‘I forgot what it felt like, to love something, but I feel it now. It’s like… an old tree that shed its leaves, sitting alone, thinking that it has died, only to realize that it was only winter. No matter how long it’s been, it knows what spring is. It remembers the sun. It remembers the buds, and the flowers. It knows them.’

Miguel wanted to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. The poor fool was speaking so honestly. Still, he had to get one cruel remark in.

‘Mm. You love them so much you let me look at them like that?’ Miguel said snidely. Mig remained unaffected.

‘I seem to have lost a lot of my concern around nudity that you all still uphold, out here. I have not seen clothes for over a decade. I do not care who see’s them, only who touches them. Besides, they are… glorious to look at. I could not deny myself the chance to observe them beneath me.’

‘Ay, Dios—be quiet’ Miguel snapped. Mig conceded.

‘But, going back, Dana was the last real instance you had of loving someone, yes?’ Mig asked. He didn’t notice Miguel suddenly stiffening, his whole body tensing up.

‘She was the last real relationship you had, from what you told me. How can you be so sure about it not working? Even if not romantic love, what if you tried—’

‘I had a family’ Miguel murmured, his eyes growing glassy and dull. Mig froze. He sensed something in the air, something potent. Something deep, and dark, and cold. A white void. A nothingness that he didn’t know how to fill.

For just a moment, all the birds in the air seemed to stop singing. The world went utterly still.

‘You, did? When?’ Mig murmured. It felt strange, like he was speaking in a graveyard, instinctively knowing to lower his voice.

‘Not that long ago. I had a daughter. Now it’s—she’s, gone. Because of me. It was all my fault.’

Mig felt his whole body sink. Despite his animosity with this man, he knew their shared desires. He knew how ingrained into them this one dream was, this thing he’d also been forced to put aside. He could almost feel, in the universal string between their bodies, the pain he had pushed down.

‘Miguel—’

‘I was being kind before, to you, even if you didn’t see it’ Miguel snapped at Mig, interrupting him sharply. ‘I was being kind to both of you. I just wanted you to avoid that same fate, that same pain, but it seems that all O’Hara’s must suffer to learn. So I don’t care anymore. Tear each other apart.’

Mig tapped his foot sadly.

‘It—I mean, having two poor experiences does not a doomed man make’ he murmured. ‘It’s not the end.’

‘Nobody can love us’ Miguel repeated. ‘Nobody lov—’

Nobody has loved me, he thought, nobody but Gabi, but he couldn’t bring himself to verbalize it. For all his grandiose promises that he maintained separation for the sake of others, in truth, he knew he was just weak. He was scared.

He didn’t say this, but Mig could almost feel it in the air around him. This verbose, unspoken resentment.

‘You are far more human than me’ Mig murmured, ‘and I am—treated kindly, if not loved. I don’t see why the same couldn’t happen for you.’

‘We are monsters’ Miguel said. ‘We are still broken. Still ruined.’

Silence fell on the two men as they sat side by side, both facing out into the woods. There was too much here to easily unpick. Too much lingering animosity, too much history, too much jealousy, too much of the same man’s lingering doubt now doubled.

Miguel was slipping somewhere dark, and it wasn’t Mig’s job to save him, but it was hard to watch himself floundering. How could he not, on some level, have sympathy for himself?

‘You… If you wanted, you could watch again’ Mig said, fully misreading the tension in the air as he tried to find a solution. ‘Perhaps seeing it more would help you, acclimatize? To see that this body can be loved? Perhaps—’

‘Get away from me’ Miguel hissed.

Mig slowly closed his mouth. Miguel didn’t want to be reached right now, clearly, and so Mig rose to his feet to leave. He went to the spring and collected as much water as he could in an old wooden basin he’d built, one that could just about fit your body. As he made his way back up to the nest, Miguel raised his hand to stop him.

‘They requested that you be allowed to join the society. Your, little spider’ Miguel said. Mig blanched.

‘They—they did?’ he stammered.

‘Yes. The idiot thinks you could re-join society somehow. They're holding my past escapades over my head to get it, so I agreed. I hope you make the right choice and reject my offer.’

Mig blinked and turned to gaze at nothing, his hands awkwardly juggling the basin. In the end he refused to give a clear answer and climbed back into the nest in silence.

As he closed the door at his back you were already awake to greet him.

‘Hey! Miggy, there you are. You took ages, I thought you like—tripped and fell into the spring, I was about to call emergency services.’ You babbled a little as you rushed across the nest to hug him, your arms burying themselves into his fluff. Mig felt all of his tension melt away.

‘Mi tesoro, back to bed! You’ll catch cold’ he said gently. He wanted to lift you but his hands were full with the basin, and we forced to gently scoop you with one of his spider legs instead. He carried your huffing body back to the mattress and dropped it into the sheets.

‘Hey! I’m fine, come on.’

‘Relax, mi arañita. Let me work. Be still for me.’

You made a show of rolling your eyes before gently nestling back into the sheets, allowing Miguel to prep your bath.

It was a low tech venture, with Mig boiling water over the fire to a warm but not scalding temperature before pouring it into the basin bit by bit. It took so long that you almost drifted off again, but Mig was there to shake you awake at the shoulder and tenderly carry your naked body to the bath.

He sank you into it slowly, his eyes darting to check that you weren’t too hot. When the only sound you made was a soft, pleasured sigh he gleefully let you fully submerge.

‘Oh that’s so much better’ you whined. ‘That’s so, so much better.’

Mig folded his spider legs and settled on the rim of the tub, his chin resting on his arms. He watched you with those big, round eyes, unashamed of how they roamed over the contours of your body beneath the water.

‘Sweet thing’ he whispered, lightly tracing his finger through the water. You watched the ripples hit your chest, the steam obscuring your vision. ‘Sweet, pretty little thing.’

It was quiet here, isolated and alone. There was no sound but the drops of rain on the windowsill, and somewhere far away the distant bellowing of an elk in the mist. You listened to Miguel’s breathing, the rustling of his fur, and the soft movement of the water as it lapped at your skin.

‘So… mm.’ You shuffled and settled into the warmth, letting it seep into your bones.

‘That—other you, he’s still outside, isn’t he?’

Miguel averted his eyes. ‘Ah… yes. He is. I meant to say, mi tesoro, about last night—’

‘I’m fine. Don’t worry.’ You opened one eye to catch his gaze, meeting him with a relaxed and foolhardy expression. ‘I know what we did was—childish, maybe, but he had it coming. I don’t regret it.’

‘Ah…. Ah, good. Good’ Miguel repeated, trying to stifle his relief.

‘Do you regret it?’

‘No. I don’t think so. The man needed a little, territorial display to put him back in his place. He forgets that he’s a spider too. Though… I do, feel some sympathy for the man.’

You scoffed. ‘Pft. Why?’

‘He is sad, mi arañita, you must see that. He is alone. He believes he MUST be alone.’

‘That’s not my fault, nor my problem.’

‘Mm. What if—well, have you considered, what you’ll do if he continues this, surveillance scheme?’ Miguel asked.

Your devilish grin took him quite by surprise. ‘We just keep fucking, I guess, until he learns his lesson. See which position disturbs him the most. I think me on top would do it.’

Mig flushed, trying hard to hide how aroused he was by those words. He was possessive, and ultimately rough when it came to sex, but his body was primed to swoon over a strong, confident figure. It aroused him greatly, even more so when he thought about pinning and subduing that spirit on the end of his cock. He coughed to cover up his obvious lust.

‘Very well, I am- of course happy to follow what you desire, mi tesoro. Ah—I did want to also say, Miguel, he—mentioned that you bargained to have me join the society?’

You closed your eyes at that, doing a little shuffle to sink your shoulders beneath the warm water. ‘Yeah, I did. I wanted you to have the option.’

‘You are, very kind, arañita. I just… I haven’t been around people for a long, long time’ Miguel murmured, his voice dipping as he spoke. You could almost taste his anxiety. ‘I don’t know how to… ah—’

‘Socialize?’

‘Yess, yes, that.’

‘You did fine with me’ you noted. You rolled a little in the tub so you could take his hand in yours, and noticed quite quickly the way he returned to gawking at you beneath the water. His eyes were fixed on the wavy reflection of your ass, soft and wet and round beneath the waves. You had to squeeze his hand to draw him back.

‘Babe. Babe. We can do that in a moment. What I was saying is, you did fine with me. You don’t need to please everyone, just—having the chance, the option, I think you deserve it. Okay?’

Mig rustled again at the idea. He was clearly still worried, still unsure. He tried to focus on your hand, your kind eyes, and the courage he’d gained last night. He clung to the idea that, if he did join, he could be around you more often.

After a moment silence he bobbed his head. ‘Okay. Okay, mi tesoro, I will- go with you. I will join.’

You beamed at him, your smile filling out your cheeks.

‘YES! Yes, Miggy, you’re coming with me!’

Overjoyed you rose from the tub and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, your bare chest quickly smooshing into his. His hands instinctively flew to wrap around you in turn, but he froze up at the sensation.

So much of this was new to him, and despite all the aggressive sex you’d engaged with, the simple act of hugging his soft, warm, wet partner, feeling the water glue your bare torso to his chest as it dripped down to his fur, was something fresh and exciting. He felt his cock straining to get hard.

‘Ah—careful, mi tesoro, you—you’ll get cold’ he murmured.

When you pulled back it only made it worse. His clawed hands lingered on your back, his eyes now given the gift of your wet chest in full view. The little droplets sliding from your collarbones to your chest, circling and dripping off your nipples as they grew cold in the air.

He let out a sound like a strangled rabbit. ‘Ah… Ah, ay coño…’ he breathed.

You felt his gaze like a physical touch, and of course it made you weak. You checked your watch; it was still early, you had a little time.

‘Hey, you, uh…’ You leaned in and gently grabbed at the fur on his lower abdomen, pulling him closer. ‘I wanted to try something. Now there’s no, heat, rushing us.’

‘What, uh—would you like, mi arañita?’ Miguel asked. He swallowed so hard you saw his Adam’s apple jolt.

‘I wanna try sucking on you. Properly. Can we do that?’

The joy in his face was unbearably cute. ‘Yes- Yes, yes, absolutely, yes, ah—just a minute—’

He moved to give you a very quick kiss before shifting his body over the tub, with four legs on either side and his abdomen comfortably settled in front of your face. You lay back in the tub and put one hand up to where you knew the slit was. You watched it grow hard, fully emerging to its full erect size, straining and twitching for attention.

Mig let out a hard sigh at the release. He used one hand to grab the ceiling, stabilizing himself with his claws, while the other cupped your head.

‘You ready, arañita?’

You nodded, and with your lips parted you moved in and took him into your mouth. His groan was loud enough to echo, easily reaching the seething Miguel still sat outside. The man felt his whole body go rigid.

He needed to leave, he thought. He had to go. But… could he, hear you moaning too?

‘Mig’ you groaned. ‘My Mig.’

‘Ah—ahh, that’s it, ‘s so… so good…’

Mig whined as you started experimenting. It was quite the fit for your mouth, so at first you tried just licking. You lapped at the tip, tasting those soft beads of pre-cum as they beaded and dripped. They were still sweet. You moved it down, gently stroking each vein, each inch with your lips and tongue. You’d kiss it, gently, just to see it pulse and twitch.

Your tongue was so flat, so warm and wet. He felt all eight of his legs shaking.

Once he was utterly saturated with your spit, you moved back to sucking on him. Your lips took that full, thick shaft and slipped it between them, and even though you had to widen your jaw as far as it could go you moaned the second it hit your throat.

It felt unbearably good, to suck on him back and forth with his claws in your hair and his beautiful face desperately panting above you. It was both so powerful and so submissive at the same time, so vulnerable while giving you absolute control.

You let him fill your mouth and throb on your tongue, pulsing desperately for release. You started to moan.

With shaky movements Miguel moved one of his longer spider legs into the tub, gently lowering it to shift between your legs. You squeaked as you felt it sliding up and against your cunt.

‘Shh, it’s okay. Let me touch you, arañita. Let me touch you.’

You whimpered as he tightened his grip on your hair, slowly starting to pulse himself between your lips. He began to tenderly fuck your mouth while his spider paw massaged your clit. The fluff was on that swollen nub, gently circling and stimulating every nerve it could, but then you got something more; one of his claws began to gently insert its smooth side inside your cunt.

You squeaked, momentarily frightened, but the danger seemed to spur you into a state of overwhelming, mind-numbing lust. You let it happen. Your eyes rolled, and as Mig groaned out loud you let him claw-fuck you beneath the water.

It was messy.

Water overflowed and splashed down onto the nest, Miguel’s abdomen began to shake and tremble with pleasure. Your body was jolting violently as you edged yourself, torn between the pleasure of that smooth, hard claw rubbing up against your velvety cunt and the paw stimulating your clit.

‘F-Fuck—good arañita, that’s it—you feel, amazing, ah—you are, amazing—’

You grunted as he started to pump deeper into your throat. You could feel his copious pre-cum spurting all over your mouth, coating your tongue until it was all you could taste. He fucked you until spit began to pool and dribble down his shaft and into the water.

‘Mmf—mmf—’

‘You like how I taste, arañita, huh? You like that?’ Mig begged. You tried to nod but you were utterly impaled, your body shaking from overstimulation.

‘You want that, arañita? You want me to cum in your mouth?’

‘Mmf—’

You continued like this for as long as you could, furiously, pawing and sucking at each other in a daydream haze of pleasure.

And outside, on the grass below, Miguel shamefully continued to pleasure himself for the second time. With his hand on his mouth and his thumb and forefinger teasing the tip of his cock, he listened in, and he pretended those muffled moans were his.

He couldn’t leave. Not yet.

Not yet. Link to next part!

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #drider #spider man 2099 #smut #arachnophilia #smut with plot #miguel o'hara smut #drider miguel o'hara #+18

[vcnillazelda]

alive

simon riley x reader

summary: you almost die on a mission

tags: near death experience, angst with a happy ending, hospitals, hand holding, hurt/comfort, cuddles bc ik y’all crave it, f! reader, also very stubborn! reader, jealousy at the end but it’s not too bad

✞———————❖———————✞

your heart beats below his fingers and simon lets out a soft exhale. it’s not that he doubted your condition, he just needed to see it for himself. simon hadn’t gotten to visit you since the mission, but now you were in safe hands he could relax and sit beside you. his heart aches for you, and he clutches your hand tight. “i’m sorry, sweetheart.” he whispers, blinking. his mask feels stuffy in the warm room, yet he doesn’t care enough to remove it, even when the paint around his eyes begin to smudge and fade. you hum softly, head rolling towards him a little as your body shuffles to sink further into the cardboard-like mattress that was your hospital bed in the infirmary. simon sighs, running his fingers over your knuckles. you twitch a little, hand flexing under the feathery feeling of his touch, and simon lets up, not wanting to disturb you.

“simon..?” you mutter, voice thick with medication and sleep. “i’m here, doll.” he responds softly, and you hum. “hi, there.” you smile a little, not bothering to open your eyes due to the heavy lead feeling on them. “how do you feel?” simon asks, and you hum. “not too bad… i’m on some heavy meds.” your lips twitch upwards once more and simon huffs out a small laugh. “i can tell.” his hand squeezes yours, and you let out a soft exhale through your nose, body relaxing. “don’t get all depressed, si. it’s not my first time in here.” you state, and he hums. “i mean it, y’know.” you finally open your eyes, poking his forearm. “i know you do.” simon states, eyes soft and doe-like. “good. just because i got hurt, doesn’t mean you’re at fault. we all got separated, there’s nothing anyone could of done.” you reply, smiling a little.

there’s a small silence between you both, and yet it’s not uncomfortable. “you’re impossible, y’know that?” simon mutters after the silence fades with the sound of footsteps walking past. “i know.” you respond, closing your eyes once more as you settle beside him. with that, you fall asleep. simon stays by your side for as long as he can before the doctors kick him out, knowing full well he’d be back in the next day after every little job he had to do was settled.

simon comes back after his shower, which he took after training, his hair is damp under his hood and his actual mask is gone, leaving him in the balaclava he wears under it. you’re awake this time, yet relaxing as your fingers run over the bandages. “hello, sweetheart.” he mutters, and you open your eyes. “hi, simon.” the way his name rolls off your tongue makes him smile. “you need to rescue me, si. recovery is so boring.” you joke, going to sit up. simon gently pushes you back down, sitting on the chair beside you. “hey, now. recovery is important. i don’t want any lasting injuries on you, okay?” he mutters, and you sigh. “stop agreeing with everyone.” you roll your eyes but he can tell you’re joking because you break into a grin and kiss his fingers.

simon let’s you talk about things, noting every little ‘get well soon’ gift and card you had gotten. he has to get you one too… “so, yeah. that’s how i broke my arm on the first day of training.” you sigh, and he hums softly. “sounds rough…” simon sympathises, and you hum. you know better than to ask him for stories in return, anything he told you would be of his own accord when he was ready. “johnny dropped off some book, but you know how i am…” you trail off, and simon rolls his eyes. “yeah, yeah. where is it?” he asks, and you point to the bedside table. “in the top drawer. thanks, si’.” you grin widely as he picks up the book, one he wasn’t familiar with, and opens the cover.

you had fallen sound asleep just after simon had finished reading the fifth chapter, and so he put the book down and lifted his mask a little to gently kiss your forehead. he doesn’t leave just yet, he had nothing else to do, and so simon sits and watches over you, keeping a close eye on your vitals and the machines around you. you seemed to be doing well, but simon knows how easily it would be for you to take a turn for the worst; he’d seen it before and truth be told, it terrified him.

simon gets the news that you’d flatlined then been resuscitated from johnny, and he drops his firearm, startling poor gaz who was trying to get some tips. he sprints through the base, ignoring the worried looks and anyone trying to stop him. barging into your room, simon sees price already there, arms crossed as he watches the doctor test your vision with a pocket light. “just keep following the light here, you’re doing well…” he mutters, watching your eyes carefully. “everything seems to be okay… that was a close call.” the doctor stands upright, and price speaks up. “do we have to send her home?” he asks, and you tense. “i don’t want to go home..!” you frown, but the doctor sighs. “if it continues to worsen you might have to.” he replies, and you sigh. “simon..!” you silently plead, plead for him to take your side, and yet he sighs too. “you should listen to them, they doctor’s right.” you frown at him, turning away. simon’s heart aches, yet price pats your shoulder gently. “don’t worry about it, kid. they’re just looking out for you.”

simon moves out of the way to let the two leave, sitting beside you. “hey..” he mumbles, gently grasping your hand. you don’t respond, clearly upset. simon wants to yell at something, someone, yet not at you, he’d never raise his voice at you. “please talk to me.” he begs, squeezing your hand a little. “…i don’t want to go home.” you mumble, and he nods a little. “i know, but if it gets serious you’ll have to go to an actual hospital.” simon responds, although he’s also dreading the idea. “how did this even happen?” he asks, and you shrug weakly. “i’m not sure… it just did- i went to take a nap and i woke up to a damn defibrillator shocking the life out of me.” you frown, leaning into him, head resting upon his broad shoulder. “how do you feel now?” simon asks, moving his hand from yours to rub your back. “my chest hurts and i feel dizzy… the doctor said it’s because i got zapped back to life.” you sigh, and he hums. “as long as you’re alright…”

“i want out of this damn room, simon.” you complain. two days had passed and you were on the up and up. “i know, doll.” he responds, waiting for you to be quiet so he could go back to reading the book you were quite interested in. you sigh, pulling his other hand up to your cheek. you’re pouting, and he sighs. “it’s not so bad, darling.” he mumbles, and you scoff. “it’s awful… i wanna go back to normal.” you reply, and he hums. “well, you’ve gotta get better first.” simon looks at you, and you crumble a little under his gaze. “okay, okay…” you surrender, falling quiet once more so he could continue reading.

simon sighs as he enters your room, glancing to your bed as he goes to close the door. you’re holding onto your iv, knees trembling as you stand. “poor timing…” you mumble as your lover immediately swoops over, sitting you down. “poor timing my arse, what the hell are you thinking?” he demands, and you sigh. “i’m bored, simon! i want to do anything else than lay in this damn bed all day!” you complain, and simon sighs. “i spoke to the doctor before coming in, okay? you’ll be out soon.” he assures you. “that’s what they said two weeks ago then i fucking died.” you snap, and simon flinches. “si’…” you trail off, voice small. “no, no… i get it. it’s hard.” he responds, sitting beside you on the bed. you frown, leaning into him. “i just wanna leave, simon…” you whisper, and he nods. “i know, doll. not too long now.”

weeks pass, and you’re increasingly bored. you’ve always been a soldier that enjoys inserting yourself into situations, especially during training. you were practical and many praised you for it. simon brings you whatever he can to keep your sanity in check, he even tries getting you to knit to try and involve you in something. you’re become more irate and upset with every day, so simon backs off a little, cutting down his working hours on base to bring you books- only to read them to you, but it was something. so, when the day the doctor states you’re fit to leave back onto base, you’re elated, a wide grin on your face as you snatch up your belongings. simon keeps his hand close in case you fell, still unsure of you leaving early, but the doctor pulled him aside and stated it was just for your mental health and that he’d keep a close eye on you.

you sigh heavily as simon helps you into your shared room with the lieutenant, watching you flop onto your bed with a grimace. “careful. i don’t need you going back in so early.” he mutters, painfully aware of the stitches on your side which trailed to your stomach. “yeah, yeah. i’d rather get sliced up and nearly bleed out again before i go back into that damn infirmary.” simon sighs at your blunt words, sitting beside you. “let’s hope it doesn’t come to that again, yeah?” he mumbles, and you soften up. “sorry…” you reply, muttering. “it’s okay…” simon sighs, letting you tug him so you were both lay on your bed. “let me see your pretty face…” you mumble, taking off his mask for him. simon smiles, kissing your lips sweetly as your thumbs gently run over the faded scars on his skin. “that was the worst part of staying in there, i couldn’t see you properly.” you mutter, kissing him again. “shush.” simon whispers, coddling you close to his chest. “it’s true..” you respond, squeezing his waist a little as your head rests against his chest. eventually, you doze off, wrapped up in his arms.

when simon wakes up, he shuffles a little. you’re tangled in his limbs, head still pressed to him, fast asleep. it feels good to have you so close once more. you whine softly in your sleep as simon moves, clinging on tighter. he stills, letting you settle before getting comfortable again. “stop moving..” you mumble, burying your face into his neck. “sorry.” simon exhales, resting his chin atop your head. “s’okay.” you reply, falling back asleep.

you wake up to an empty bed, yet no beeping. sleepily, you stretch and yawn, wiping sleep from your eyes. “simon?” you ask, sitting up. you look over, seeing him doing his morning exercises. “morning, doll. sleep well?” he asks, as if he wasn’t lifting his entire body weight up on a doorway pull up bar that he had attached to the bathroom of the room. “yeah, fine.” you mumble, taking your sweet time appreciating how his back muscles rippled with each swift lift. “you look good.” you compliment, enjoying how he falters for a split second. “knock it off, i have to finish this.” he scolds, yet there’s no sternness in his words. “yes sir.” you stand carefully, sighing. there’s a knock at the door, and so you open it whilst simon gets down. “hello, doctor. thought i had escaped you.” you say smoothly, and he smiles. “you thought wrong.” he replies, entering the room.

his latex gloved hands are cold as they run over the sensitive wound, you can see simon glaring at the doctor over his shoulder. it almost makes you laugh. “the stitches aren’t ready to be removed yet, but they should be after a few more weeks. meaning no training.” the doctor tells you, drawing your gaze to his face. “right.” you nod, feeling a little dejected as the doctor starts wrapping your stomach back up. simon stays quiet, brooding at the fact another man was touching you so intimately. you giggle softly, excusing yourself as ‘ticklish’ when the doctor raises his brows. “all done. i’ll be back again tomorrow to change your dressing and check on you.” he states, bidding farewell as he leaves.

the door clicks shut and you laugh openly at simon, who scowls. “stop it.” he grunts, walking over and engulfing you into a hug. “you looked so upset. it’s funny.” you giggle, pulling up his mask to kiss him. his lips are desperate and hard against yours. “you don’t have to be jealous simon,” you coo, fingers brushing over the scars upon his cheeks. “i’m all yours.” you feel his lips twitch up slightly as he kisses you again. “i know you are.” he replies, pulling you down so he could coddle you whilst there was still some time in the morning’s free period. you tangle your legs with his, fingers running over his chest as you push your head under his chin, completely content with the position. “i love you, simon.” you mumble, smiling widely to yourself. “i love you too, sweetheart.”

#cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod x reader #ghost cod #ghost x reader #mw ghost #simon riley x reader #// 🍨 vcnillazelda #// 🍨 call of duty

[moth-mimic]

Hazy Memories

‣ pairing: Legolas x reader

‣ words: 950+

‣ content: fluff, human reader, gn!reader

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summary: after the Fellowship settles down for the night, you find that the cold leaves you unable to fall asleep. A walk in the woods ends in a moment more touching than you could have imagined.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The terrain you— along with the rest of the Fellowship— trekked along was undeniably a difficult route to take. The temperature had plummeted significantly before the group had even reached the mountain of Caradhras, which led to the decision to make camp before nightfall would bring even deadlier weather.

Now you tossed and turned in your sleeping bag, your thoughts constantly lingering on the persistent, icy wind that was currently nipping at your skin. Most of your companions had somehow already found their way to hazy dreams: the hobbits were huddled together and sharing each other’s warmth; Aragorn, Gimli, and Boromir had each found their own place to rest; and Gandalf was off meditating somewhere, you were sure. The only one who was wide awake was Legolas, who was currently on watch due to his lack of need for sleep.

But through the fog the cold had brought upon your mind, you could still make out the memories of the past evening. Although the long stories of the mountain that Gandalf had told the group were already lost to you, the interactions you had with the blond elf were clear as a sunny day. The thought of him brought an unexplainable warmth throughout your chest before you urged it away. Your feelings for him were based purely on admiration, that was all.

You had always worried about him, which was why you had immediately offered him your cloak once the temperature had began to lower. You felt bad for him, seeing him in simple layers compared to the others. He had given you a curious look at first before a small, warm smile made its way to his face.

“I am alright, thank you.”

“But aren’t you cold?” You continued, the crease in your expression making it seem as if the mere thought of him being cold horrified you.

He shook his head softly, pressing your cloak back towards you. “Not necessarily, although I do appreciate your offer.”

And before you could protest he was already in front of the group again. You watched him gingerly step upon the snowy ground each time he moved, his grace leaving barely a trace. You sighed, the warmth of your breath drifting from your lips. Only when one of the hobbits pushed you forward did you snap out of your trance.

Tonight you were in that same trance again, your restlessness guiding you from your sleeping bag and towards the dense woodland. You weren’t sure where you were headed, if you were headed anywhere, but hopefully your movement would be enough to grant you a bit of warmth. You found your way to a relatively clear path between the trees before your eyes caught sight of a light trail of footsteps. You followed them, wishing for the elf to still be there, yet the trail stopped at a deep decline in the ground. You looked past the cliffside and to the star-speckled sky as if you were waiting for something. After a moment you eventually sighed and intended to turn back around, yet something stirred from the leaves overhead.

With one swift movement you grabbed the pocket knife on your waistband, ready to fight whatever was there— or rather, whoever. When your eyes opened again you were met with ones of sapphire-blue, paired with an amused grin framed by strands of smooth, delicate hair.

“Y/N.”

“I- Legolas!” You stammer, quickly withdrawing the weapon you had faced him with.

He looks you up and down with one swift glance, clearly not affected. “You’re awake. Why?”

“I just can’t sleep. Too cold, I guess.” You answer, not mentioning the fact that you were too busy thinking of how graceful he is. Or that you purposefully followed his footsteps here. He nods.

“Your cheeks are horribly red.” His response makes your eyes widen before you try to relax again, hoping the action was subtle enough that he didn’t notice. He continues as his gaze travels along your face, almost as if he’s analyzing each feature. As he does so, the back of his hands lift to lightly stroke your cheek. Heat blooms under his touch. “You’re not familiar with the cold, are you?”

“And I’m guessing you’re so warm with your… what, only two layers?” You scoff, taking a small step back and turning your head nervously. He looks as if he’s about to respond somehow, yet he cuts himself short. His line of sight travels down to his feet as if he’s nervous.

“Well, I suppose I haven’t been thinking about it. I am very cold, to tell the truth. Freezing, even.” As he confesses this, he glances at you from the corner of his eye as if he’s expecting something.

“I was right!” You exclaim with victory before settling down and providing your care. You join hands with him to share your warmth. “Here, take my cloak. I can do without a layer.”

“No, no, I can’t have you be even colder—“

“I insist! I’m sure you’ve been barely surviving with those mere layers.” You quickly take off your outermost layer, settling it onto his shoulders. You don’t notice the shade of soft pink on his cheeks. “There we go.”

You both stand there for a moment, Legolas looking like he’s still missing something. “I don’t think it’s enough.”

You raise your eyebrow. “Really? Well, if you want another—“

Before you can finish your sentence, the cloak envelopes your upper body, the elf using his arm to support you as he pulls you towards him. You instinctively stiffen before his voice washes over you, calm and easy like a stream. “I think this is perfect.” The tension leaves you at once, instead replaced with the warmth of his body, nurturing like rays of sun. For a moment you believe you’re back home.

Huddled within your cloak, the two of you settle down at the foot of a tree. Your hands wrap around to warm his back as his fingers run gently through your hair, lulling you to sleep. As you fade into unconsciousness, he speaks to you of the old forest at his own home: the towering trees, the soothing melodies of birds, the vibrant green of flora. Your dreams consist of a realm you have never set foot on.

When Aragorn finds the two of you next morning, he doesn’t dare tell you that elves do not get cold.

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#Spotify #legolas x reader #legolas #lotr #lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #legolas greenleaf #lotr x reader

[daintydreamsy]

I loved your Zayne post and I need to see you make one for Xavier NOW. Heart emoji

- 🍊

"happy birthday." his voice is soft and serene, and you barely even rise when xavier shakes you awake. he sounds like an angel, and his words don't register until he's practically shaken you off the bed.

the curtains to your bedroom are open and the sun has begun its dance on your covers, but not enough to disturb you and shine on the pillows. xavier definitely timed this, didn't he?

"happy birthday to you~ happy birthday to you," he sings, helping you sit up in bed and placing a small wrapped present on your lap. "did you forget? today is your day."

no, you didn't forget, but it's early in the morning and you're surprised that xavier is even up. for someone who sleeps on the job at any given opportunity... he's awfully chipper today.

"why are you up so early?" you ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. there's a smell of breakfast food in the air and for a second your heart picks up its pace- oh no, he didn't try to cook, did he?!

"what's with that look in your eyes?" he asks, sitting next to you on the bed. "i woke up early to wrap your present and order some breakfast... don't tell me you're so shocked i can do that?"

the look of calm settling over your face tells him more than your words. he wants your reaction to be overdramatic but he knows himself better than anyone, save for you.

"you should open your gift now."

after taking a moment to wake up fully, you tug open the ribbon on the small present. it's not the neatest design you've ever seen, but it looks like xavier really tried to make the ribbon look good. complemented with the wrapping paper that was just your favorite color... when had you even mentioned that you liked it so much?

it's a small jewelry box, and you open it without much thought. this isn't the first birthday you've gotten cute jewelry as your present but... the ring inside looks awfully nice, doesn't it?

xavier takes the box out of your hands and kneels down next to you on the bed, and it feels like you've been hit by a truck. you've been up for maybe three or four minutes and... he's proposing? what??

"is it too soon?" he asks, taking note of your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. he can practically see your heart thrumming out of your chest and the way your cheeks flush such an intense red, it almost worries him. "to ask you to marry me...?"

ugh, xavier, that jerk! proposing to you with your hair still messy from sleep, and you haven't even put lotion on!

it's silent for a few more seconds before you realize that he's looking at you with his puppy eyes, and you scramble to get out of the bed to pull him into a hug or kiss or something in between, the action is rushed because 'no, of course it's not too early, i can't believe we're going to get married', but he loves the gesture all the same.

"i was going to wait until we went out tonight but i- i couldn't. i can't wait any longer."

'xavier, xavier, xavier,' you think, 'what am i going to do with you?'

he slips the ornate diamond ring onto your finger, and the action finishes your thought for you.

'i'm going to marry you.'

#love and deep space #love and deep space x reader #love and deep space xavier #l&ds x reader #l&ds xavier #xavier love and deepspace #l&ds xavier x reader

[drabblesandimagines]

[400 requests] congrats btw!! i adore how you write for joshua so may i ask for a joshua rosfield x reader.. extremely tooth rooting fluff.. kinda domestic fluff as well.. just a soft morning with joshua.. literally can be anything! from in bed or a nice stroll around the hideway.. a picnic breakfast somewhere.. anything!

Thank you, anon! I hope you enjoy this one. I feel I can't help but write Joshua so suave. Please, please drop me an inbox to let me know what you think x

Lazy Mornings Joshua Rosfield x reader, fluff

You cannot pinpoint exactly when it had started – hazy memories of your eyes meeting his blue ones across the sanctum, followed by deliberated brushing touches, chance meetings in the library at late hours turning into deliberate meetings in the Phoenix's bed chambers. Joshua had been away for a few weeks, conducting research, and you’d been worried in his absence. As he and Jote had returned the previous evening, his eyes had only met yours for a moment but you didn’t need words to know what he was after, and so you had snuck into his chambers later that night with all intentions of slipping out before the morning had come…

You wake up, slowly at first. You’re warm, relaxed and content, but the feeling is swiftly lost when you clock that the sun is a little too high in the sky for your liking and you need to get moving. Preparing to roll out the bed, you find two arms determined to keep you held snugly in place. You tut, taking hold of one and tug in an attempt to move it, but the limb holds stubbornly firm, though you cannot miss the flicker of a smile on your captor’s face.

“Joshua…”

Silence – his blonde hair mussed up around him as he lays on the pillow, almost angelic.

“Joshua.”

Nothing – obviously determined to keep up his pretense.

“I know you are awake, Joshua.”

He nuzzles his head into your neck then, making you squirm a little as it tickles. “No, I am not.”

“You have never been one to talk in your sleep, so I disagree.” You tug again, but his arm remains heavy in place. “I need to go.”

“Mm. You do not.” His eyes remain closed, determinedly so.

“I do, though”, you stress again, trying to sit up to see if that will help you gain some leverage. “I’ve stayed too late.”

“Not late enough. Go back to sleep – you’re still tired too, sweet one.”

You’re glad his eyes are still closed as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks from his term of endearment and sigh – dramatically so - before dropping back against the many pillows that adorn the Phoenix’s bed. “You are being a little childish.”

Joshua opens his eyes then, looks up at you with a coy smile. “Mayhaps I would admit a little bit of selfishness, but why are you in such a rush to leave me?”

“That’s not fair,” you protest at his wording. “You know I wish to stay, but if Master Cyril were to catch me in here, he’d…” You trail off. You can’t comprehend what he might do, to be honest, but it wouldn’t be anything good. Of course, Cyril isn’t blind to the looks that you and Joshua share across chambers, but it was only mere speculation on his part – nothing that he could note down in his work of the Phoenix’s life and duties.

“Cyril would not dare to enter my private chambers without permission.” He sits up, though keeping his hold firm on you as he does – afraid you might vanish from his sight if he does not.

“But he will surely visit them to check on your hea-”

Warm lips cut you off mid-word. Your eyes meet Joshua’s blue ones, yours wide with surprise as he closes his, places a palm on your cheek to coax you to reciprocate his kiss. You close your eyes then, careful to exhale through your nose, and kiss back, matching his pace. Moments pass as you settle into a steady rhythm, but something pushes you forward, placing a hand on his thigh, swiping your tongue across his bottom lip and-

Three knocks at the door in a familiar pattern.

You jerk out of the kiss in alarm, almost toppling off the bed itself were it not for Joshua’s quick reflexes pulling you back towards him.

“Who is it?” He calls, smiling at you all the while.

“It is I, Cyril, Your Grace.”

“One moment.”

You look around the chambers in alarm – the window is too small to crawl through, the door is the only exit you have, but that’s right through the thoroughfare of the sanctum at this hour, not to mention the man standing at the other side of it. “Joshua, what do we do?”

“I will deal with it. You, however, should lie back, relax…” he whispers, pushing you down gently, kissing your forehead, “..and stay quiet.” He gets to his feet then, throwing the soft red knitted blanket over you, before you hear his soft footsteps head over to the door, the oak creaking as he opens it enough for him to pop his head out to greet the Bearer of the Burning Quill.

“I am sorry to disturb you, Your Grace, but as I had not seen you this morn I wanted to check everything was all right.”

“Fine, Cyril. I am just a little weary after the last few days of travel – I think I will take today to rest if matters can wait.”

“Very well, Your Grace.” Cyril nods, though steps to the side a little, trying to see behind the Phoenix. “Would you like me to send for Lady Jote to assist you?”

“No, no - that is quite unnecessary,” Joshua waves off, “I know she is tired from our travels also. If you could arrange for some sustenance to be sent up so I can break my fast, that would be appreciated.”

“At once, Your Grace. Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you, Cyril.”

Cyril bows, takes a step back and the door is swiftly shut behind him.

You feel the mattress dip besides you before the blanket is pulled down from over your face – a boyish grin on Joshua’s face. “See? The day is ours.”

You stare up at him, your heart pounding from your nerves – realizing what had scared you so. It wasn’t so much being caught by Cyril, but the idea of being caught and forbidden from seeing Joshua again.

“Have I lost you, sweet one?” The Phoenix questions, laying down besides you, tilting your chin to meet your gaze.

“I love you.”

The smile on Joshua’s face is as bright as the sun in the sky.

“I love you more.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

#ghostdogwrites #joshua rosfield x female reader #joshua rosfield x you #joshua rosfield x reader

[mattmurdocksscars]

Back From The Dead Ch. 10

This is it, my loves. The final chapter. We will have an epilogue at some point, but as for the main fic, this is the last one. It’s been quite the journey and I hope yall have loved this fic as much as I have. That being said, go forth! Enjoy it.

Word Count: 1702

Pairing: Matt x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings: Childbirth (nothing too explicit!)

You progress quickly throughout the night. By 6 pm, you’re having contractions and by 8 pm, you’re feeling them. At 10, you finally ask for pain medicine and something for nausea just before getting sick. Contractions are unlike anything you’ve ever felt and you’re thankful when they give you something for pain and nausea at the same time. That lasts you until about 2 am where you find yourself wondering if you should get the epidural or not. The nurse even asks if you want it but you deny it, asking for something else for pain instead. The nurse calls Frances to get her approval and they give you something else for pain. Matt is wide awake, his concern nearly palpable and he’s the one who helps convince you to finally get the epidural around 5 am.

The change is near immediate, and you realize that maybe you shouldn’t have waited as long as you had. But there’s nothing to be done about that now and so you try to get some rest and manage a couple hours of sleep before Frances comes to check on you around 8 am. She tells you that you’re now 9 cm dilated and together you all decide to go ahead and break your water. Frances leaves with the promise to check on you at lunch if you don’t feel the need to push sooner. The next couple hours pass in a blur and you find yourself needing to press the button for your epidural more. When Frances returns to check on you, it’s decided that it’s time to push. You’re fully dilated and the contractions are coming often enough that they want to try and you agree.

With the help of Matt, the nurses, and your midwife, you bring your son into the world.

Your entire body was covered in sweat, fine tremors running through you. It had taken what felt like ages but finally, finally, your son was pressed to your chest. You gazed at the babe in wonder and awe, sheer joy coursing through your veins.

"God… he’s beautiful, Matt." Your tears ran unchecked down your cheeks, mixing with Matt's on the side where he'd pressed his head. He rose a shaking hand and gently pressed it against the baby's back, letting out a choked sob.

"You did so good, sweetheart." He pressed a kiss to your temple, his free hand gently brushing your hair back.

"Are you ready to cut the cord?" The midwife asked gently and you both nodded, carefully passing the babe back to the doctor. She and the nurses helped guide Matt so he was able to cut the cord, before taking the baby to be checked over.

"Go with them, Matt. I'll be okay." You told him. He kissed your temple again before following the nurse to the edge of the room.

Over the next few minutes, the midwife helps you deliver your placenta and cleans you up while the nurses take care of your baby. Matt hovered anxiously, listening out for both of you. Only once your son was returned to your arms and Matt was able to be by your side once again, did he seem to settle.

You looked down at the little bundle in your arms and couldn't stop the smile that rose.

"He was worth it, Matt. Everything we went through, all of it, he was worth it. Thank you. Thank you for giving this to me." You whispered. Matt let out a choked laugh, wrapping one arm around your shoulders and pressing his other hand against the baby's back.

"I should be thanking you, sweetheart. I… I never thought I'd have this. You've given me a family and I will never be able to express how much that means to me." He leaned his head on yours and you blinked away the tears that had risen at his words.

"Tell me what he looks like?"

“He’s beautiful. He has your nose and my mouth. His eyes are a dark blue for now but they could always change as he gets older.” He would eventually run his fingers over the babe but for now, he was content to listen to your description.

There, in your hospital room, listening to your soft voice and the coos of his child, Matt finally felt like things were going right.

After some time to yourselves and time for you to recuperate, you call up Karen and Foggy and insist they come to see you and your son. The two are so excited and race to the hospital to visit. As soon as they’re in the room, they’re cooing eagerly.

“Oh my, look at him! He’s precious.” Karen murmurs. Your son is currently asleep in Matt’s arms and she doesn’t want to wake him. Foggy is peering over Matt’s shoulder so he can see him and making quiet squeals of excitement.

“I can’t believe he’s here! You did awesome. He’s so handsome!” Foggy gushes. Matt shushes him playfully when your son squirms at the noise. Foggy immediately looks chastised and backs away.

“Relax, buddy. He’s okay.” Matt assures him and at his father’s voice, your son opens his eyes slowly and gazes up at him. His blue eyes gaze up at Matt and you’re all in awe at how quiet the babe remains.

“Has he been this quiet the whole time?” Karen asks and you nod.

“He scared me when he first came out because he didn’t scream or anything. He’s just been quiet. I’m sure he’ll find his voice though. Let him get hungry enough.” You tell her, with a short laugh. The others laugh with you.

“Okay, I’m dying to know, and I can’t wait any longer. What did you name him? You two have been majorly secretive this whole time!” Foggy exclaims. You and Matt share a grin before Matt proudly holds his head high.

“Foggy, Karen meet Michael Jack Murdock.” Both of them gasped and Karen even teared up.

“Oh… that’s perfect.” Karen told the two of you.

“Have you told Maggie yet?” Foggy asked. Matt shook his head.

“We called you two first. I was going to call her in the morning. Give all of us time to rest.” Matt said quietly. The topic of his mom was still a sore one, you knew. They were trying to work things out, but it was still touch and go. You reached over and squeezed Matt’s arm.

“We wanted you two here today because… well, we want you two to be the godparents.” You told them with a smile. Foggy immediately pumped his fist in the air while Karen clapped her hands together, bringing them in front of her face.

“I knew it! Uncle Foggy gets to be a godparent!” Foggy cheered. Michael chose that moment to coo softly and you all grinned.

“Sounds like he’s in agreement.”

“Of course he is. He knows Uncle Foggy is going to be the best.” Foggy said, proudly puffing out his chest. You all laughed until Michael began to cry softly. Immediately Matt began to soothe him, holding him close and rocking him.

“And that’s our cue. We’ll leave you three alone so you can all get some rest and recuperate.” Karen offered. You all said your goodbyes and once Karen and Foggy left the room, you turned to Matt who was still trying to console Michael. You watched fondly until Matt tilted his head in your direction and smiled.

“What? What is it?”

“Nothing! It’s just… even holding a crying baby, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.” You told him. He grinned and walked over to you. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to your temple, one you leaned into.

“I’m holding my son while the love of my life watches. What is there to be unhappy about?” You grin and laugh softly.

“I suppose when you put it that way. Though I’m sure if you could see me, you wouldn’t call me beautiful right now.” You told him jokingly before teasing, “And if I remember correctly, I was your wife a couple weeks ago.”

Matt laughed.

“Oh, don’t you worry. That’s coming. Just not today.” He told you and you sucked in a sharp breath. You felt tears well up and brushed them away quickly.

“Promises, promises, Murdock.” Matt fixed you with a small, soft smile.

“I mean it. One day, if you say yes.”

“Matthew Murdock, are you asking me to marry you?” You asked.

“Not yet. Not here. But soon? Yes. Yes, I will be.” He told you confidently and you couldn’t help but to grin.

“Then I’ll save my answer for then.”

“I’ll wait in anticipation.”

While the two of you were talking, Michael had calmed and was slowly falling back to sleep in Matt’s arms. Matt carefully sat on the edge of your hospital bed and leaned over to rest his head on your shoulder.

“You ready to get some sleep? I know you didn’t get much last night with how much pain you were in.” Matt asked quietly.

“You didn’t either. We should both get some rest while he sleeps.”

“I… I want to stay up. Just a little bit longer. I don’t want to let him go yet.” Matt admits softly. You reach up and gently run a hand through his hair.

“He’s still going to be here when you wake up, Matty.” You told him, pressing a kiss to his head.

“I know. Just… let me enjoy this.”

“Okay, baby.” Matt got up and walked over to the couch in the room and sat down.

“Get some rest, sweetheart. I’ll wake you if I need to.” Matt promised. You laid down and got as comfortable as you could. Lying there, something crossed your mind and you found you had to say something.

“Hey, Matty?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Thank you…”

“For what?”

“For doing this with me. For being here. For everything.”

“Sweetheart, I promise you now… I will never leave you again. I will always be here for you and for Michael. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

As you drifted off, you had one last thought.

“Thank God he came back from the dead.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x pregnant!reader #matt murdock x fem!reader #back from the dead

[abihasablog]

Late night giggles

Commission for @ticklespls, also on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49049692

At some point in their relationship, Izzy had stopped grumbling about Stede’s need to cling, and that seemed to have been his first mistake. Stede had stopped paying him any mind when he realised he didn’t mean it, but once Izzy had stopped acting like the constant touching and cuddling bothered him, the floodgates burst wide open. The opening of said floodgates led to one very tired and grabby Stede collapsing on top of him on their bed after a night of overindulgence with Ed and the crew. 

Slightly pink cheeked, Stede nuzzled against the back of Izzy’s neck with a content sigh as Ed flopped down next to them. 

“So soft,” Stede mumbled. “Ed, isn’t Izzy so soft?”

“Don’t answer that,” Izzy grunts. He tries to roll over to dislodge his boneless captain, but Stede was apparently determined to use him as a body pillow. “Would you fucking move?”

“Can’t. Sleeping.” 

“Yeah Iz, he’s sleeping. You wouldn’t wake your captain up while he’s sleeping, would you?”

“I’ll toss the sleeping captain into the sea if he doesn’t shift,” Izzy tries to push himself up again, but collapses in a huff when Stede doesn’t budge. “At least let me turn over!”

“Give it up mate,” Ed giggles, getting comfortable beside them amongst the nest of blankets and pillows. “You’re there ‘till breakfast.” 

“S’true,” Stede mumbles, nuzzling closer, and Izzy sighs, resigning himself to his fate. At least Stede wasn’t all elbows and knees. The peace lasts for a few minutes, the three of them settling into sleep, before an annoying itch in his foot wakes Izzy up again.

“Ed,” Izzy hisses. No reply. “Ed, wake up.” He gets a snore in response. 

Izzy squirms underneath Stede's weight, huffing into the pillow. "Fucking get off, I need to scratch my foot."

Ed's head pops up from under the blanket with suspicious speed for someone who was supposedly just asleep. Slowly, a wicked smile spreads across his face.

"I'll scratch it for you," he says coyly.

"No you fucking won’t! ” He kicks fruitlessly at Ed’s hands, which have already latched around his ankles and are tugging them free of their entanglement with Stede’s legs. “Edward!” 

“What’s the matter?” Stede pushes himself up enough to turn towards the commotion, eyes glassy from tiredness. Ed grins at him smugly, easily overpowering Izzy’s weak attempts at escape. 

“Izzy has an itch on his foot.” 

“Okay?” 

“So ‘m gonna scratch it for him.” 

“Why has he gone pink, though?” 

“Oh,” Ed yanks Izzy by the ankles so he’s got a solid grip. “Because he’s ticklish.” 

“No I am not! ” Izzy’s blush spreads to his ears. His legs no longer a viable weapon, he pulls the pillow from under Stede’s head and smacks Ed square in the face. Unphased, Ed snatches it and tosses it away. He lifts his hand slowly into the air, clenching and wiggling his fingers for Izzy to see. 

“You’re really squirming around for someone who isn’t ticklish,” Stede quips, suspiciously more awake than he was moments ago. 

“That’s because he’s the most ticklish person in the world,” Ed drops his hand to skitter his fingertips along his soles. Izzy bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut, but then he can’t anticipate Ed’s next move, so he snaps them open again. 

“Are you alright, Izzy?” Stede asks him, a note of concern lacing his words, and it’s so saccharine it almost gives Izzy a toothache. “Ed, maybe if Izzy doesn’t enjoy it…?” 

“Oh, he does,” Ed grins at them both, the sort of expression that promises mischief and mirth in equal measure. “Unless that’s changed from the last time, Iz? You remember that time a while ago when you pulled a muscle in your back, and Fang offered to help? You got so wound up about it because you didn’t want him to see how ticklish you are, and how it just makes you melt. ” 

“ Edward. ” Izzy flushes red. “That’s bullshit, never happened. And even if I was ticklish I wouldn’t like it!” 

“Liar,” Ed jabs a finger at the sole of his foot. “Don’t be embarrassed because Stede’s here! He’s super fucking ticklish too, y’know.”

“Well!” Stede bristles, puffing up in offense, and then immediately deflating and looking sheepish. “Actually, yes, I suppose you’re right. It really is nothing to fuss about, and can actually be quite fun!” 

“Nope.” 

“Yes!” Ed wriggles his fingers closer to his target, watching with glee as Izzy’s resolve begins to slip. Just as Izzy opens his mouth to tell him exactly what he thought of him, Ed dropped his hand to start gently wiggling over his sole. Izzy slams his hands over his mouth immediately. 

“Oop, it seems like someone’s trying not to laugh!” Stede teases. Izzy scowls at him. See if he ever intervenes when Ed is tormenting him again. “Oh, do put that pout away. I so love to hear you laugh.” 

“He always does this, acts like he isn’t desperate to get his shit wrecked.” Ed trails his fingers up towards his toes, poking them in between and wiggling. Izzy jerks his leg violently as a rogue burst of laughter escapes him, nearly dislodging his foot from Ed’s grasp. Ed huffs at him, and readjusts himself so he’s got a leg thrown over Izzy’s shins, well and truly trapping him. At the same time, as if sharing a mind, Stede moves silently beside him to pull his taut body against his own. 

“Is Edward right?” His breath tickles against his ear and he shivers. “Do you want us to make you laugh?” 

“No!” It sounds unconvincing even to Izzy. Stede’s hands slide up to his sides and pet at them, nothing more than what they normally do late at night. Stede loves to touch, Izzy knows personally. He lets himself imagine for a moment how things could be if he just gave in. The casual touches morphing into something with more intent… Izzy shudders at the thought. As though he could read his mind, Stede curls his fingers into claws and digs into his belly. 

It doesn’t break the dam that was Izzy’s resolve, but it definitely cracks it. His breath turns ragged as he tries to channel the laughter into something, anything else - it was a matter of pride at this point. Ed seems to sense he’s about to break, and with a wicked grin, wiggles his fingers in between his toes.  

Izzy erupts into laughter, tossing his head back against Stede’s chest and writhing in the strong grip of his arms. 

“There we go!” Ed laughs triumphantly. He hones in on the spot that made Izzy break, teasing the soft skin with his fingertips. Izzy scrunches his toes and stretches his ankles in a weak escape attempt, but Ed is a devious tickler and always has been. “Nuh uh, get those toes back.” 

Izzy whines and kicks about it, but does as he’s told without question. His body and mind are halfway to mush already, and as Stede’s hands ascend to draw along his ribs, he feels himself giving in. Ed takes one of his feet in each hand and works them over methodically, tracing wiggly lines from heel to toe and back again. It’s almost too much - almost. 

“Please,” he chokes out, giggling breathlessly and grabbing at Stede’s hands. 

“Please, what? What are you asking so prettily for?” Stede bats his hands away and continues the slow rise and fall of tickly fingers against his ribs. Izzy gets a grasp of Stede’s wrists, noticeably not trying to pull them off. Instead, he squeezes them as if to keep them there. If Stede realises what he’s doing, he doesn’t say anything. 

“Bet I know what he’s asking for,” Ed chuckles. He releases Izzy’s feet from his wicked grip and slowly turns himself around, crawling up the length of his body until he perches on his hips. “What Izzy’s trying to say is ‘Please, don’t stop tickling me, don’t stop until I’m a sobbing, gooey mess.’ Did I get that right, baby?” 

“Ed,” Izzy whines breathlessly, his watery eyes blinking up at his Captain, looming above him. He angles his chin up and lets his lips part, waiting. Ed’s expression seems to both soften and sharpen, his gaze dropping to his mouth. 

“I think he’s also asking for a kiss, my darling,” Stede says, the smile obvious in his voice. He’s stilled his hands to take in the scene in front of him, and sighs happily. “My two boys, so lovely. Kiss him, Edward.” 

Ed obliges with gusto, kissing with such force it steals Izzy’s breath. Ed’s hands cup his cheeks and wipe away a few stray tears of mirth. He pulls back, peppering his face with gentle kisses instead. “So good for us, aren’t you?” 

“Yes, Captain,” Izzy replies, not really sure what he’s agreeing to, but he always tended to agree with Ed anyway. 

“Will he continue being good, do you think Ed? I know I’ve not had the pleasure of tickling him to tears, but I do seem to be getting the hang of things.” Stede strokes Izzy’s hair back from his forehead. “I wonder if I can guess his favourite spot.” 

Without warning, he wriggles his fingers into Izzy’s soft belly, and the surprise of it shocks an actual squeal out of him. He grapples for Stede’s hands and collapses into hysterics, kicking his newly freed legs aimlessly. 

“Oh, that’s a good spot - try going nice and soft along the waistline, makes him purr real pretty.” Izzy was in hell (heaven), and had reached that point where even Ed’s words fucking tickled. There’s only a very small part of him now that wants to protest his words, but… it had been such a long time since he’d let himself feel like this. So instead of fighting, he feels himself preen at the praise. Ed hums, a pleased rumble deep in his chest that makes Izzy and Stede both shiver. “See? Such a sweetheart once the dickishness is tickled out of him.” 

“Why are you only telling me this now?” Stede’s fingers pinch higher up to his top ribs, and Izzy bats at him weakly. “I don’t think I ever want to let you leave this bed, Izzy. You’re to stay here forever so we can tickle you at our pleasure.”

A groan slips out between gasping laughter, and suddenly he feels shy. He turns to bury his face against Stede’s arm.

“Now, none of that!” Ed slips a finger up to stroke at the underside of Izzy’s chin and down to his neck. 

“Edward!” Izzy lurches away with a peel of breathy laughter, scrunching his shoulders up to try and dislodge Ed’s fingers. “Fuck off!” 

“Can’t fuck off while you’ve got my fingers trapped, now can I?” Ed wriggles them, and Izzy’s hands fly up from fending off Stede’s assault to latch on to his wrists. Of course, this gives Stede the opening to expand his assault by sliding one hand down to squeeze at the soft spot where his thigh meets his hip. With three of his most ticklish spots being targeted, Izzy feels the giddiness growing in his gut, and can’t help the giggles that pour from his mouth. “Aw, there we go,” Ed coos. “Look at you, haven’t seen you melt like this in ages.”

Ed and Stede both laugh along with him, and... well. Maybe it is a little bit nice to let go. He finds himself settling back into their hold and finally letting go. 

#ofmd tickling #lee izzy #ler ed #ler stede

[cocogrrrl]

Hi! Can you do a TransMale!reader and Kyle fic where reader feels really dysphoric and upset while the two are in public because of stares 😭

And then Kyle corrects someone when they misgender reader 😭

It would cure my dysphoria 🥺/j

-📌🎀

real men

you arent feeling the best, and when you get purposefully misgendered, you only feel worse

kyle broflovski x transmale!reader cw: transphobia, gender dysphoria wc: 1050

an: as an enby person i feel like this was more self indulgent than anything, i hope this captures what you're looking for anon 😭

Somehow, something hits you at the worst of times, and then you feel like every single wave within you is crashing, and there is no way you can stop it. The particular stare of some people, the way you overhear how others talk about you, how they refer to you. It’s a reminder that you’ll never be who you want to be.

To many people, you just escaped the person you were. You weren’t actually trying to reshape yourself into the person you’re meant to be—you were just destroying yourself. You were stupid in their eyes.

In a way, sometimes you felt like they were right.

Were the new clothes, new name, and new identity all worth it? Because at the end of the day, one wrong move and people will know or be reminded of who you once were. Sometimes you believed that it’s no use—the changes you made—because all you want is people to accept who you were, which they didn’t.

“YN? Are you okay?” Kyle’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts, waving a hand in front of your face.

You two were spending time together in the back of the school during your break, and you hadn’t realized that you completely spaced out.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine, just a little tired.” You laughed, brushing your thoughts off. You didn’t want to worry Kyle at this moment. He doesn’t deserve to hear you wallowing. He’s worth more than that.

“Are you sure?” He said, raising a brow at you. You think he knows what’s going on, but you can’t tell.

You really didn’t want to bother Kyle or your feelings in fear of opening a dam, so you did your best to swat both away. “Yeah.”

“Did you get enough sleep last night?”

“Eh, I couldn’t sleep. I think it was 3 AM, and I was still wide awake” That was true, at least. You had trouble sleeping, and Kyle knew that very well. A double dose of sleeping pills could barely get you through the night.

“How much time do you have left before your next period?”

“Uh, 20 minutes.” You said, looking at the time on your phone.

“You wanna sleep first?” He offered, patting his shoulder.

“I had coffee a while ago, so I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep.” You smiled, shaking your head but still resting your body on Kyle’s side. What can you say? You’re a clingy person.

As you heard people making their way through the school grounds, getting to their next class, Kyle scrolled on his phone as you relaxed your mind and your body. Your thoughts eventually settled, and you felt a little lighter. You hadn’t realized that you were feeling better.

Until one person showed up.

“And here, you can see the covetous jew with his gay ass girlfriend,” Cartman said, waving his arm at you two from a distance like he’s some tour guide and you two are attractions at a zoo. He was showing and befriending the freshmen around since no one in his grade wanted to hang out with him.

“Dude, can you shut the fuck up?” Kyle rolled his eyes as he placed his phone down. “He’s my boyfriend, by the way.”

“I don’t get what you mean, Kyle. YN’s is so obviously a chick! She��s got tits and everything.” He spat, motioning to your parts.

“First of all, he’s a boy regardless of what you say.” He let out a frustrated sigh, closing his eyes tight as he relieved his annoyed feeling. He knew better than to start a fight right now. It’s not what any of you needed. ”Second of all, didn’t you identify as a trans woman when we were younger?”

He scoffed in reply as his jaw hung so low it was almost comical like it was saying ‘How dare you bring that up?!’ “No, I so fucking didn’t!”

“There was one time you dressed up as Britney Spears once and danced with a cardboard cutout of Justin Timberlake. Butters still has the video.”

“No, he doesn’t.” He mumbled, sounding defeated.

“Yes, he does, and I will call him if you don’t quit it.”

“Whatever, the video’s edited anyway.” He grumbled, motioning the group of freshmen to follow him as he would go on to find his next victim. 

Kyle let out a deep breath once more, the tenseness in his shoulders dropping once Cartman had left the scene. “Are you alright?” He looked at you sympathetically, putting a hand on your back.

“I don’t know…” You replied, your gaze now directed on the ground.

Your thoughts of earlier had swarmed back. They couldn’t just be swatted away. There’s always something that’ll rock the hive.

You just hated how he was just spreading that fact. It means that you wouldn’t even have a chance of appearing like a boy to others now. It feels like you were always destined to be a girl because of shit like this.

“I’m sorry he did that.” You could sense a hint of frustration still lying under his voice.

“It’s out of your control. I think it’s inevitable.”

“Don’t think that way. You aren’t worth his time or his bigotry.”

“I just wish people saw me as a guy.” You exhaled, bringing your legs up to your chest as you balled your body up.

“A lot of people do. It’s because you are one.”

“Yeah? That doesn’t stop shits like Cartman telling others that I’m not a real man.”

“Real man, this real man that. Who’s to define what makes a man anyways? Definitely not him.” He laughed, hoping to ease a little bit of your stress. 

“YN, you are a boy, okay? Just because you don’t fit into the construct that the fuck built in his idea of gender, it doesn’t mean that you are any less of a man. It’s his fault that he can’t seem to recognize the man you really are.”

You turned your head from buried in your lap to his view. You felt a smile creep on your lips. Even if people like Cartman would always be around, at least you had your boyfriend to be by your side despite everything. “Thanks, Kyle.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He hummed, bringing you into a hug.

#📌🎀 anon #cocogrrrl's writing #south park fanfiction #south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle broflovski x you #kyle broflovski x y/n #kyle x reader

[hylias-library]

Hey hey! Aww thank you so much!💖💖

One reader falling asleep next to Legend coming right up! I hope you like it!

[Navigation]

“Alright. Let’s set up camp for tonight!”

With a loud groan, you let yourself fall right on your butt, a yawn following right after. “This was the single best thing you’ve said today, Time.”

Said man just gave you a teasing roll of his eye before he started to peel himself out of his armor. It’s been a long day and everyone was looking forward to settle down for the night.

“Hey, I need someone to get fire wood guys. The food won’t make itself.” It was Wild, casually shaking out his bag for anything edible he could get out while everyone averted their eyes, not willing to move their sore muscles any more than they needed to.

Letting out a deep sigh you heaved yourself up with your head hanging low, knowing no one wanted to collect wood now anyways. “I’ll go.”

You were already halfway through the bushes, ignoring the guilt stricken gazes from the boys, when a voice sounded from behind you. “I’ll join.”

It was Legend making his way towards you, stopping an arms length away, earning himself a thankful smile from you.

“Thanks.”

He waved you off, mentioning for you to follow. You obliged, already scanning the forest floor for any piece of wood suitable for starting and keeping a fire alive.

You yawned again, way too tired for this, cursing quietly when you got a splinter from the old wood, pulling it out carefully. “I swear, one of these days I’ll hit one of the boys for being this lazy.”

A snort came from Legend, already loaded up with firewood. “I’d love to see that happen.”

You picked up your own last piece and turned towards the Veteran. “Might happen sooner than later.” You eyed his wood pile. “I think that’s enough for now. Let’s head back.”

When you arrived back at campsite, half of the boys, excluding Time, Twilight and Wild, were already taking a nap until they got woken up for dinner. Twilight, on his part, had disappeared again. Probably walking the perimeter to check if everything was safe.

You placed the firewood next to Wild and proceeded to pat his shoulder. “You’re on your own now buddy. Sorry.”

Legend mirrored you when you let yourself fall on your behind, leaning against a tree with a groan. “Finally.”

“You’re way too dramatic.”

Rolling your eyes, you stuck your tongue out at Legend, who had made himself comfortable beside you. “Don’t tell me you’re not tired. Because I know you’re just as dead as I am.”

He leaned back, watching the fire Wild just started. “Can’t deny that.”

Another yawn stole itself from your lips, you really felt the exhaustion of the day catching up to you, not even noticing how your eyes closed.

A hand startled you awake later on, eyes wide and confused until a plate of food got held into your vision. Your eyes met Legends, who was holding onto the plate. A little embarrassed you took it with a thankful nod, mumbling. “You scared me.”

The side of his mouth quivered in amusement, clearly having to hold back one of his infamous smirks. “You don’t say. That expression was worth a golden rupee.” He took a seat next to you again, practically inhaling his portion.

After everyone had eaten their meal, you had settled for watching the boys banter with each other, wondering how they could pull out this much energy of a single meal.

You yourself could already feel your eyes drooping again. You were just so tired. When the third time your head fell forward came around, you gave up on trying to stay awake. Slowly leaning to the side until your head collided with Legends shoulder. He wouldn't mind, would he?

You could feel him tense up. “Is this ok?” you asked, tiredly blinking up at him. He didn’t say anything for a while, until you felt his hand move your head a little, placing it onto his chest, wrapping his arm around your back. “You’ll break your neck if you sleep like that.”

You blew air through your nose in a silent laugh. “Who’s the dramatic one now, huh?”

“Shut up.”

You felt a squeeze on your side, making you nuzzle into Legend more. This was probably the closest thing to a hug you’ve had in…. A while. It felt good, Legends warmth gently lulling you to sleep. You should try and cuddle more often, you never knew you've missed it this much.

Meanwhile, the Veteran himself thanked the heavens you didn’t see the blush that spread all over his face the second you had laid your head onto his shoulder. He could swear he blushed all the way down to his feet.

He never really got to experience close proximity like this. Hugs basically were alien to him. And here you were, casually leaning on him like it’s where you’re supposed to be.

Legends mind basically did cartwheels. Realizing he actually wanted you to be here in his arms. And hey… why did it feel so right? The starvation of physical contact finally breaking through.

Oh, you'd be the death of him.

With a mix between amusement and despair he pulled you a little closer, held you a little tighter, ignoring the snickers of the others who weren’t asleep yet.

Just this once he’d give in, gently laying down, trapping you against his body, blushing even harder when you unconsciously hugged back tighter.

God’s he never knew he needed this so much. He must have been more sleep deprived and touchstarved than he gave himself credit for.

Yeah, he’d let his walls down and be soft just this one time.

Looking down at your peaceful expression, he sighed, already knowing he would do it again.

Maybe… just maybe he could make an exception for you, if being soft could get him more of this great feeling.

His eyes fell shut. Exhaustion pulling him into dreamland as well.

Just maybe.

#linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #lu legend #linked universe legend #lu legend x reader #legend x reader #linked universe x reader

[tarisilmarwen]

RobStar Week 2023, Day 7 - Safe

(Aaaaand done.)

---

Even though their rooms were next to each other and she was not a particularly heavy sleeper, waking to Raven knocking on her door in the middle of the night and directing her towards Robin's room was not an uncommon occurrence.

This time Raven was barely awake enough to mumble, "Nighmare." at her, blinking blearily and already swiveling around to go back to her own room and bed, knowing that Starfire would take care of the Boy Wonder's distress, so that both she and he could sleep.

Starfire sighed, closing her door and heading the opposite direction from the empath. She did not begrudge Raven her mind bond with Robin but at times she thought it would be more convenient not to have to go through a third party in order to comfort her own boyfriend.

Perhaps when they were older, she could convince him to begin sharing a room.

Starfire hit the button for Robin's door and stepped in over the threshold.

He wasn't moving, but she could still tell whatever unpleasant dream had hold of him was a very bad one; he was visibly grimacing even in his sleep, curled up tight, hunching into his shoulders and knees.

She approached carefully, and gently lay a hand on his shoulder.

At the warm contact he startled awake.

His eyes were wide with heartbreaking fear for a moment. But then they flickered with recognition as he saw her, soft shape silhouetted in the moonlight from his window, and he deflated with relief.

A faint apologetic smile crossed his lips. "Hey," he breathed. "Sorry."

"There is no need to apologize," Starfire told him, sitting down on the edge of the bed as he leaned up. "You know I am here for you."

He nodded, scooting closer, wrapping his arms around her and settling into her embrace. For several moments they just breathed together, existing in the silent comfort of the hug. His breath whistled through the strands of her hair and he was warm in her arms, as she pressed her palms softly to his back.

"Do you wish to talk about it, or do you wish for me to distract you?" she asked. She'd had much practice at gauging how to calm and comfort him.

"Um..." Robin considered for a couple seconds, then began to pull back. "Distract, I guess. I can't really remember it right now."

Starfire smiled. Sometimes she was lucky and was able to wake him in a fashion that his nightmares slipped right past his short term memory and were at once forgotten. She wound an arm around his waist, snuggling into his side. Reaching up she turned his chin towards her and kissed him, lips pressing warmly and firmly against his.

He blinked a bit dumbfounded when she pulled away. "What..." he asked, "...was that for?"

She giggled. "That was my distraction. Was it effective?"

From the disorganized look in his eyes she knew it had been. He shook himself, chuckling shortly. "You'd think I'd be used to kissing you by now," he said.

"Should we do it again?" she asked cheekily.

"I kind of wanted to just talk."

"Oh?" she said, surprised.

His smile was shy as he said, "I like hearing your voice. It's... soothing." He reached for her hand, clasping it. "How excited you get when you're talking about things always puts me at ease."

Heart warming, she smiled. "You are sweet," she told him. "I also feel relaxed in your company." She squeezed his hand, leaning into him. "I am running out of stories about Tamaran to tell you, however," she confessed.

"Heh. Okay, well... how about I talk this time?" he offered. "I know I haven't told you half the adventures I've had with Batman."

"Please," she said.

She pulled her feet up onto the bed and they leaned up against the pillows together, watching the moonlight creep across the wall. Robin talked and talked and she listened, comforted by the sound of his heartbeat and the feel of his skin against hers.

#robstar #robin #starfire #Teen Titans #robstarweek #prompt fics #fanfiction

[guideoftime]

▴ — @nihlkahn ft. @puxrlunae (you'll see why). [ ORAL ]:  sender  goes  down  on  receiver.

   Things in the house have been a bit tense. Most of it was Sheik’s fault, he had been avoiding both of them after what happened to Amaron, but it was slowly getting pieced back to a rather normal place for all of them. Sheik stopped working himself within an inch of his life and Amaron stopped avoiding going to bed with them. He had said they can’t keep avoiding each other, which meant him too. He couldn’t keep avoiding the bed and Sheik couldn’t keep avoiding his partners. 

   Emotional situations he can’t fight his way out of are difficult for him to process. He never had to. Sheik was taught to suppress everything to survive, not to process. So for him, processing intense emotional distressful situations is hard. It’s not an excuse for running from Amaron, but it’s the only explanation he can give for why. He knows he has to learn to handle situations like that better, and he will screw up again, but for now they needed to move on. 

   Which means trying to treat things normally. 

   And he is trying. With the way the bedroom is set up, Sheik is normally on Amaron’s left side. Which is now missing an appendage. 

   He has not slept. 

   He spends most of the night staring at his arm or his face, his mind running away with him, and given who Sheik is–that probably wouldn’t surprise either of his partners to find out. Kasus doesn’t need sleep so he was probably very aware of how Sheik spends most of the night. And it’s truly starting to catch up with him. Which was why, when he was alone one morning, he had made a potion Granny taught him to help sleep and headed to the bedroom. He figured he could drink it, lay down and just try and sleep. He might even be tired enough to not dream for once. 

   Potions to trigger sleep can have a wide range of side effects. They can make you sleep too long and unrousable, actually cause nightmares, or if too much is taken–keep you awake. The possible side effects in exchange for sleep didn’t sound too bad. He’ll take his chances. 

   At least he was intending to until the bedroom door was shoved open and his gaze met Kasus’. Wasn’t he supposed to be helping Mutoh today? They were doing repairs on one of the older houses in Kakariko Village. There’s also been an ongoing debate over the House of Skulltula. Sheik’s been listening to the drama over that with bright entertainment. He hates those people. 

   “Hi?” 

   His potion is stolen and Sheik tracks Kasus’ movement around the bedroom with amusement. Amusement that quickly dies when the deity moves to settle on the ground in front of him and asks what’s wrong. What a wide question. What isn’t wrong, truthfully? This man is so very tell that even kneeling in front of him his head reaches Sheik’s chest almost easily. It makes it very easy to push his fingers through Kasus’ hair though. 

   “I’m fine, I’m just tired.” And he is fine, it’s an adjustment and far too much of him is scared to press himself close to Amaron and hurt him. He’s been better, he’s talking with him and reminding him that Sheik still loves him. But the pain isn’t going to go away just because they tell themselves they have to move on. They might have a piece of a god inside them, they might live far longer than they should. 

   But they’re still breakable. 

   “I’ve told you before, I live in my head. It doesn’t turn off. I try and all I do is think more about things.” A small smile, the soft press of his lips. “You’re much better at the comforting thing than I am, in taking a terrible situation and moving on from it. On focusing on the person rather than the problem. I don’t know how to do that.” Or how to look at Amaron’s missing arm and not want to hate the world. An arm for his life, there should never be a chance in which that should be a choice. 

   It’s little thoughts like that which keep his mind awake. That has it spirling and overthinking, that has him watching Amaron at night and not sleeping. That has him worrying about being too close and accidentally hurting him. They might be irrational fears and thoughts, but they’re still there and he doesn’t want to bring them up to Amaron. What if it upsets him? Sheik just got past digging his husband into a pool of tears, he doesn’t want to make more problems. 

   He just wants things to be okay again. 

   And they mostly are, thanks to Kasus. He really doesn’t know what he would have done if the deity wasn’t here. He doesn’t even want to weigh the ideas of what would have happened if they didn’t have him. He knows it wouldn’t have been good. So much of their world revolves around him now, he has the heart and emotions to fix things where Sheik doesn’t know how to. To patch the holes that form instead of letting them get bigger. 

   He shifts a bit on the edge of the bed and works his fingers through Kasus’ hair, slipping out the hair stick he had made for him and setting it on the nightstand. Playing with hair helps calm Sheik, the action of doing something with his hands and a task to focus his mind on. The harp has the same effect, but Kasus is right here and he does love the deity’s hair. So he works his fingers through it, untangling the little knots that formed and even massaging his head a bit. He thinks it helps Kasus too, and that’s just an added benefit. 

   Did he really come all the way up here from helping Mutoh to steal Sheik’s sleep potion? What a bratty deity, he wouldn’t have drowned the entire thing, it’s not a red potion. He supposed his addictive tendencies with potions did make it a bit of a cause for alarm. He doesn’t think more on that though, just continues to start braiding Kasus’ hair from the angle that he has. After a while, as he has the top part perfectly braided, his heart does settle. It stops beating painfully in his chest and it seems a decent part of the anxiety clutching at him dwindled down too. Such a simple action and he can already feel a bit more stable, a bit less like he wants to claw his own chest open to just remove his heart. 

   He hums happily at the pretty start of the braid and begins working his way over the back of Kasus’ head. He was just thinking that eventually it would be hard to reach his hair when he felt the tunic he was wearing tugged on. Sheik had thrown on one of Kasus’ own to sleep in, just the tunic, he hadn’t bothered putting anything on beneath it, not with how long it was on him. As he holds the hair to keep it from unbraiding he leans back to ask what Kasus was doing when he feels the other’s moist, hot tongue drag along the underside of his penis. 

   A punched out breath leaves him quickly and the braid is abruptly forgotten, his hands instead grasping Kasus’ head as his eyes widened. Apparently, encouraged by his reaction, the other decided to repeat the action. Treating Sheik’s cock almost like it was a piece of candy, dragging his tongue along it repeatedly. Despite how hard he presses his lips together the action still draws a whimper from him and he can feel how his cock twitches in interest, starting to rise to the attention that it’s given. 

   Kasus’ hand slipped along his thigh, trailing gentle touches before finding its destination and wrapping around the base of his penis. His tongue returns again, circling around the head a few times and eliciting soft moans from the Sheikah. The other’s name slips from his mouth wantingly and then he feels those lips wrap around the head firmly as Kasus swallows him down. 

   Sheik’s hips pushed forward against him and he quickly found himself held back against the bed, his fingers tangling in the other’s hair as he gripped his head. He tries to not pull, not wanting to hurt him and his breath panted out of him as pleasure coursed through his body. 

   If this was his idea of tiring Sheik out instead of taking a potion–he’s absolutely fine with it. 

   “Kasus.” His head is definitely turned off, wrapped completely around the man in his lap dragging his mouth up and down along Sheik’s cock. All he can think about is the warn heat engulfing him and the skillful way his tongue danced along his stiff erection, eagerly consuming every inch of it. It’s so incredibly hard to keep himself still, to not just thrust into the mouth around him, and he can quickly feel his release approaching. 

   And the door opens again. 

   Sheik’s gaze instantly snapped over toward it, meeting Amaron’s own across the room. He can feel the way his body is stiffening, he tries to pull Kasus’ head off of him. “Amaron–” and he cried as he released into the other’s mouth. 

#( cannot believe I just wrote this ) #nsft cw #▴ — path / guide of time #▴ — the eye of truth / asks. #puxrlunae #lunarisdeus

[webarebares]

Back to Back

I wrote a little post TOTK Zelink fanfic a few days ago and wanted to post it here <3

Ao3 Link | Rated G | Word Count: 2,958

They sleep back to back. Link can feel Zelda breath through the night in two different patterns. The first one is offbeat. She goes through moments of holding her breath and then short breathing. She’s mentally turning herself inside out and upside down, and he can’t do anything about it. The second pattern goes off after maybe two or three hours of slight shifting and an occasional heavy breath. It’s steady. It’s quiet. It means she’s finally asleep.

Then and only then is when Link will close his own eyes to sleep. He could sleep right away, really. He likes to sleep a lot these days. But there’s a chance Zelda will slip out of bed to go for a short walk, and he gets to follow and tell her that he wasn’t sleeping anyways without lying. They spent so much time apart that he doesn’t want to spend any of it being dishonest.

It is a strange little relationship they both have. Preceding the first rise of Calamity Ganon, they never vocalized any deep feelings other than the one time Zelda said to him, “You are my best friend.” He didn’t even remember that until he made her the first meal she had in one hundred years. After that, Link stayed at the inn and Zelda stayed at his house until one day he fell sick, and she made him sleep in her (their?) bed to take care of him. He hasn’t slept elsewhere since.

They sleep back to back. Before the fall, before the loss of his arm, Zelda would wrap her arms and sometimes legs around him and fall asleep in an instant. Not every night, but Link liked to keep a hand on her waist or her back. When she was surely asleep, he’d give an experimental squeeze to know she was real and not a memory. She was living, and he could feel her under the hand that fought to bring her back.

Now, he tracks that she’s real through her breathing. The one week she had a stuffy nose was hell because she could go so long without letting out a single breath, and he was always on the brink of sitting up to check her pulse before she moved, and he knew she was alive. Maybe he’s too paranoid now. Whatever she replays in her head every night, he knows that she can’t tell her not to worry about it without sounding hypocritical. He worries just as much even though Ganondorf literally blew up before all of Hyrule’s eyes four months prior. He’s already worrying for the next fight in the next life and how he’s going to protect her then.

Since Hyrule is still going, that probably means he’s never failed. But maybe, maybe, maybe he will fail one day. One day he won’t be strong enough or dodge fast enough and then, then, then, he will fail her. He can’t tell if he already has because they sleep back to back.

Zelda sits up and right away, Link’s eyes fall wide open. Their loft is dim in the full moon, no longer red. Just like she has every other time, Zelda tries to slowly move to the end of the bed to get off without having to climb over him. He saves her the trouble of being sneaky and sits up, her neck quickly turning to him.

“Oh, Link,” she says. She doesn’t sound surprised. “I had a feeling you’d be awake. I am going to go on a stroll. Would you like to join me?” Link nods and gets his legs out of bed and slips his feet into his sandals. Zelda, wearing her white night dress, grabs her a blue coat from a hook in the corner and slips into her own sandals. Link bought her that coat recently, and she wears it often. Link’s pajamas are made up of a thin green long sleeve and matching pants. Zelda cut the right sleeve and sewed it into a neat fold, as well as his other clothes. He decides he doesn’t need his coat, but he makes a note to suck it up if it does get cold.

He settles the Master Sword on his back and follows Zelda down the stairs and out their front door into the cold air of the night. Goosebumps move up his arm, but he closes the door without going back for his coat. He doesn’t want to go back up and plus, Zelda is already at the suspension bridge. She’s always moved very fast, since they were teenagers. Get here, do that, now onto the next thing.

Recently though, she’s seemed to slow down. As if she’s afraid to make progress because she’ll be ripped away from her life again. Link doesn’t know how to communicate that he feels the same way. How to communicate that he’s waiting, cowering, and afraid. And still, he’d do it a third time, lose another limb, run straight into malice if it meant they’d get to sleep in the same bed. Even if it’s back to back.

They take the path through Hateno Village. It’s a calm quiet Link sometimes can’t believe exists in this world. If he listens too hard, he can make out sounds of monsters but really, he’s only seen Keese in the distance since it all went down. It makes it easy for him and Zelda to walk through Retsam forest in peace.

There’s enough light from the moon and stars to see them through late dusk as they venture into the trees. Link can make out mushrooms and stops to look at an ironshroom.

“Zelda,” he says her name. He doesn’t say it much. It’s only when he absolutely needs her attention. He wants it all the time.

“Yes?” She walks back a few steps to meet him. He crouches down lower and points at the mushroom.

He says, “Let’s bring the students to pick mushrooms. You can talk about the science part of it, and I can teach them a few recipes.” She smiles under the lighting they are given, and he cherishes it.

“I like that idea.” He likes the validation he gets from her. “We can do a few field trips now that the forests are safe.” Because their lives are a reality show for Hylia, they hear a wolf’s howl in the distance. Link immediately stands and puts his hand on Zelda’s hip, over her coat. They don’t touch as much as they used to before. It’s much rarer now. Just in moments like this or Zelda tying Link’s hair back for him. A lingering hand touch as they pass spices in the kitchen, Zelda picking lint off his shirt, Link taking grass out of her hair after she lays on it to cloud watch. Much rarer.

He doesn’t expect to hear her laugh, but he finds himself smiling with her. “Well, I think we can scope out for wolves in the morning before we bring them along. And the foxes will just flee. Oh, maybe you can catch a fox for us.” Zelda puts her fingers under her chin like she always does when she’s thinking. Link has copied her a few times, and she’s yet to notice it’s something she does. “Maybe next year when they’re a little older we can dissect a few things like fish or frogs. Wouldn’t that be exciting?” He nods.

She turns herself towards him and leans her hip more into his hand, and he’s basically holding onto her now. There’s no danger and still, he doesn’t want to let go. She starts talking about getting tools for dissections and tells him to remind her to ask Robbie about borrowing some. He listens because he loves to listen to her. She has so much energy even in the midst of the night. Her brain never stops.

“I think I’m getting ahead of myself again,” she says nervously. The excitement got sucked out of her with the realization. There it is. This fear of planning for the future.

“Who cares?” Link says. Maybe not the most comforting thing, so he tries to save himself “Plan ahead. It’ll be fine.”

“Yeah.” She still sounds unsure, and her anxieties are the one thing Link can’t slash with a sword. It fills his chest with deep lament. “It should be fine.” Link realizes how close she is to him. He can see how her eyes change from enthusiasm to fear. The chili weather is nothing amidst all these trees and their proximity, but he feels cold for other reasons.

“I’m scared,” he says. Is he making this about him? Or has this always been about them, together? Zelda looks at him curiously, a tilt of the head and studying eyes. He’s not sure he’s ever admitted to something that can come across as weak. He’s been strong his entire life, and in order to balance out the weight of brute immortality versus humanity, he’s gone silent. Still, he knows he can speak all he needs to with Zelda. He can be vulnerable with her. “I’m scared it’s all going to happen again. And again. And again.” Zelda steps closer to him and brushes some hair that had fallen into his eye. “Maybe I can do it one more time in this life but after that? I only have one arm left.” He moves his hand off of her and wiggles his fingers in front of her face, making her giggle.

“It will not happen again,” she says to him. She takes his hand between hers and gives it a gentle squeeze. “Not now at least.” They hear two wolves howl in the distance, one right after the other. Maybe they’re looking for each other, and Link can’t find the danger in that. “But we’re going to worry about it forever, aren’t we?”

“And ever.” So much for being comforting. But it does feel good to get things out in the open. Zelda can figure out why he still takes the sword to school but maybe she’s always known. “How do we move on?” he asks.

“How we did the first time,” she shrugs. “How was that?”

“Dragon brain get you again?” he asks. She lets out a full laugh that comes from her stomach, and Link feels happy to be alive. Her hands still hold onto his, and he frees it to flick off a leaf that has fallen on her shoulder. Naturally, he then sneaks his hand past the open front of her coat and settles his hand over the waist of her nightdress. Touch. Laughter. Exploring. This is how they moved on the first time.

Zelda’s voice lowers to a whisper and she says, “I think we need to sleep at better hours. It isn’t good for us to sleep so little when we are already in such state. We slept so much that first year after the calamity.”

“Second year,” Link corrects her. “You were so excited to be out and about again that you ran yourself to the ground that first year. Then we forced you to sleep a little more, and your body had to play catch up.”

“I remember that,” Zelda says. She starts laughing under her breath. “I remember the one time I didn’t sleep for about two days, you made me get in bed and then fell asleep on top of me so I wouldn’t sneak off.” Link’s fingers involuntarily squeeze her waist. He’s so fond of her, truly.

“You can laugh, but I was so worried. I still am.”

“Please don’t worry. I’m safe even when you’re sleeping.” Zelda’s hands go into her coat pockets, locking Link’s hand inside of it. He’s not sure what to make of it. “Speaking of, you should really try to sleep even if I’m still awake. I know you refuse to fall asleep until I do, but I feel quite bad.” Link feels his face turn red. He didn’t think she knew.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s a habit.”

“I know. That’s why I don’t nag you about it. But I’d like it if you tried.”

“Would you sleep easier?”

“No.” She is honest as well. “My mind has to tire itself out first. Then I can sleep.”

“It’ll get easier,” is all he can muster to tell her. It’s not a lie. It’s not a desperate promise, either. It’s a fact.

“It will, won’t it?” she says with an air of calm. Her eyes go up to the sky that’s blocked by the tree they are next to. They move to Link and then down to the nook of his arm. She is almost too quiet when she asks something so bold, “May I ask, why don’t you hold me to sleep like you used to?”

Link can’t stop it from coming out of his mouth. “Oh.” He feels a little stupid for letting it slip out so fast because he sounds as stumped as she is. “I just.” This is so complicated. He should have kissed her years ago and every time he’s ever wanted, maybe it’d be easier. He tries to act like he didn’t think that.

“It’s okay if you need space. We’ve been through a lot, and you most likely got used to having a bed to yourself.” Link was the one that insisted he wanted to share beds with her when they got back four months ago. He knows that they grow a bit distant and weird after reuniting because they’re both processing so much, and he didn’t want to lose the one intimate connection he’d for sure have with her.

“I thought you were the one that wanted space.”

“I wish you gave me less.” Her eyes dance with his. Her mouth is in a thin line, so he knows this conversation is costing her all she has. Somehow, he is thankful.

His hand pulls her closer by the waist, and she steps into him. Her face is in his, and he can feel the warmth of her breath. “Like this?”

She can barely get the words out to confirm. “Exactly like this.” Link doesn’t waste another second and kisses her, Zelda wrapping her arms around him to place her hands on his back. He’s not cold at all anymore.

He pulls away to admire her before pressing another soft, chaste kiss on her lips. He tells her, “We should go home. And maybe get some decent sleep.” She agrees, and he grabs her hand, leading the way back to their home.

“We do this on and off,” she points out to him, holding their interlocked fingers up for a second. “We get closer and then when we survive a tragedy, we separate. I don’t like it. I never know how to act around you afterwards.” She sounds humored. “Not that I’ve known how to act around you even after all these years.” He was a fool to think he could stop her thoughts from spinning so fast with a kiss. He’s not upset about it, either. Somehow this is the most relaxed he’s felt in so long.

“I’m sorry.” He understands every word that comes out of her mouth. He knows her so well. They feel the same things in such a similar wavelenght, and he wonders if that comes with centuries of being reborn for the other. “I don’t think I’ve ever known how to act around you. You’ve always taken the reigns. Even today,” he says. “You go, I follow. But we can talk it all out. I’ll listen.”

“Are you okay with that?” She squeezes his hand as they enter the village. The sun is vaguely rising in the distance. They can catch a few hours of sleep.

“Okay with what?”

“Following me.” Zelda has felt guilt for this before, and he’s by her side because it feels right.

“I’m going to follow you into the next life and smile while doing it.” It’s the truth and although heavy and laced with dreadful knowledge, there is light in being in love.

“Despite it all?”

“Despite it all.”

They cross their bridge and enter their house. Zelda removes her coat, and Link leans the sword against the wall next to their bed. Baby steps.

The two slip under the covers, and Zelda and him are forehead to forehead. She plants on last kiss on his nose for the night and lets her arm lay over him, Link doing the same and resting his hand on her back.

Link decides to get it out before they fall asleep. “I love you. I want you to know that. I always have.”

“You always have?” Zelda’s eyes were closed, but she opens them just for this. The subtle grace of dawn is starting to dance through their window. They can sleep in with no worries. They don’t have to save the world anymore.

“I’ve loved you for ten thousand one hundred and seven years.”

“That’s a long time.” She’s smiling, looking at him fondly with a face he makes note to kiss every inch of when he gets the chance. “I’ll have you know I’ve loved you for ten thousand one hundred and eight years.”

“That’s a long time.” Joy comes naturally with her. He can sleep, but he gets more happiness in staring at her face. “Can you say it once before I fall asleep?” His body is starting to crash, but he’s trying to savor every moment of this without dreading a possible end.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He has to say it twice. “Just in case you didn’t hear it the first time.”

“So considerate,” she mumbles. They’re both asleep within minutes, nose to nose.

#stars writing #loz #zelink #the legend of zelda #totk

[cricketnationrise]

okay I'll play!

 a timestamp: 4:03 am - a location: a beach (like an ocean beach, not a lake beach) - a character: June Claremont-Diaz

Ooooh! I am a beach girlie myself, so excuse me while I project all over June for a moment. Hope you like it @adreamareads!

want your own ficlet? rules here.

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

beach, 4:03am

Usually, she sleeps like a baby at her dad’s house, but it’s four in the morning and June is wide awake. With a sigh, she gives up on falling back asleep, rolls out of bed, and throws on some sweats. She makes her way quietly through the house, collecting the essentials. She leaves a note for Oscar in case he wakes up before she’s back, and then June is out the door.

It's a quick two-street trip to the beach, and the sound of waves grows louder with every step she takes. Pre-sunrise, the world is still – too early for pets and all but the most dedicated athletes. June is almost never alone anymore, between her job and Nora and former-First-Daughter appearances, so taking this moment just for herself is unexpectedly nice, even if she’d rather be sleeping.

She rounds the last corner and the shore comes into view, eerie in the dim light of false dawn. With the first step onto the sand, June feels some lingering stress fall from her shoulders. Water, especially the ocean, has always relaxed her, always made her feel more connected and rooted to herself. 

She likes the lake house just fine, but she always misses waves when she’s there. It’s also become more Alex’s retreat than her own (despite it being their dad’s property), especially now that he and Henry are going to have one of their weddings there. California, and her dad’s house especially, feel more hers. Alex hasn’t ever lived here for longer than a few weeks at a time, needing to spend most of his time in Texas and then DC and New York for school. June loves Alex more than she’ll ever be able to properly put into words, but it's definitely a (slightly guilty) relief to be in a place that doesn’t feel like he’s a part of – a place where June can be the focus for once.

June picks her spot carefully and unfurls the old comforter on the ground, weighing the corners down with rocks. She settles into the center and pulls Oscar’s big camping thermos out of her bag. Big enough to fit an entire pot of coffee, its best feature is the outer lid that becomes a mug. June pours herself a cup and looks out at the waves, reveling in the mixed scents of salt air and coffee that she gets with each inhale.

A breeze lifts her hair off her neck, making her shiver, so she tugs her hood up. She brings her knees up and tucks them under her chin. Despite the early morning chill, June doesn’t want to be anywhere else. She lets the coffee keep her warm while she watches the sky slowly get lighter, watches the tide come in.

June lets the place wash over her: listens to the waves crash, watches the sun start to reflect off the surface, basks in the still peace of the morning. She’ll head back eventually, but for now, she’s more than content to be alone with herself.

#cricket writes #ficlet fest 3 #rwrb #june claremont diaz #feelings about oceans #ficlet #adinarj #adreamareads #only two weeks left if my followers want their own ficlet! #get em while theyre hot

[allylikethecat]

Gatty and 32!! I love these so much

Hi! Thank you so much for sending this in! I hope this is what you were looking for! These prompts continue to be so much fun! I have a few more in my inbox that I am also working on and can't wait to share. Sorry these are taking me a few days to complete! Thank you so much again!

❤️Ally

Kiss…to wake up

Matty came to slowly, his head felt heavy and fuzzy, like the static of the car radio when you searched for the correct station or the rainbow hum of the television screens of his childhood when there was no station selected. He let out a soft sigh, unsure if it was in contentment or annoyance at being woken up. His mind didn’t feel clear enough to decide, still in that sweet in between haze of awake and asleep. He could feel that someone was behind him, hovering over him, kneeling with his legs on either side of Matty’s own, though keeping his weight off of Matty’s back. Matty shifted his own weight, bumping his hip into George’s knee. 

“You need to wake up and roll over love,” said George softly, pressing a kiss to the back of Matty’s neck. Matty hummed in acknowledgement but made no effort to move, causing George to chuckle and press another kiss to his back, lower this time, followed by another and another, tracing the curve of his spine.

“I don’t want to,” Matty slurred, pressing his nose into the crook of his elbow, eyes still squeezed shut. George chuckled and kissed the small of his back, just above the curve of his arse where the waistband of his swim shorts cut across his skin. Matty involuntarily found himself lifting his hips to press back against George’s mouth. George bit down lightly on Matty’s love handle, the elastic waistband digging into the soft flesh of his sides, before nosing his way back up Matty’s spine, tracing the dip of his spinal column with his tongue before nipping again at the base of his neck. Matty gasped, shocked at the sting. 

“You need to roll over Matthew,” said George again, “your back is burnt to a crisp.”

Matty groaned. 

“I put more sunscreen on for you,” said George, “but it’s too late, you’re burnt and it’s only going to get worse.” He pressed another kiss to Matty’s neck. “You need to wake up, love.” 

Matty let out an exaggerated sigh, but rolled over, and propped himself up on his elbows and arched his neck to look up at George who was straddling him with a grin. 

“Happy now?” Matty asked, his mind still felt syrupy and thick, his thoughts moving slow and sluggish, like honey tipping out of the bottom of the bottle. He was sleepy and sundrunk, he wanted George, a beer, and to go back to sleep, in that order. 

“Very,” said George, leaning down to kiss Matty deeply, biting at his lower lip before licking into his mouth, suffocating him with his love. Matty whimpered, falling back onto his back, his hands coming up to dig into George’s shoulder, pulling him off balance and all the closer, their bare, sweat slick chests sticking together, their skin dragging together as George moved above him. Matty dug his toes into the sand curling them as heat pooled in his lower belly. He was wide awake now.

His sunburn ached as it rubbed against the terrycloth of the beach towel had was laying on, and he had sand in his hair, his curls already matted together with the salt from the ocean he and George had frolicked through earlier, Matty laughing as George picked him up and tossed him into the waves. 

George kissed his jawline, moving to mouth at his neck, sucking and licking and biting and making Matty’s already foggy head spin with desire as he tried to swallow back the sounds desperate to claw their way from his throat. He knew he was loud, that he was vocal with his pleasure, but he didn’t want to break the stillness that had settled over the cove they were nestled in, didn’t want to draw attention to the way he was thickening in his swim shorts, heavy where he was trapped against the hard planes of George’s body. He wanted to stay lost in George’s mouth forever, anything else was too much effort.

George pulled back, mouth slick and swollen, Matty was sure his own lips looked the same. He let out a soft grumbling sound, unamused that George was no longer kissing him within an inch of his life. 

“You should put some sunscreen on your chest,” said George, looking down at Matty, his weight settled over his hips, effectively pinning him to the sand. “You’re looking a little pink.”

“I’m fine,” Matty said, blinking up at George, if George wasn’t going to kiss him, wasn’t going to grind against him, he wanted a cold beer and then to go back to his nap. He was thirty four years old, he wasn’t as desperate for physical attention as he had been in his youth. 

George raked a nail across Matty’s chest, making him gasp with pain while a shiver of arousal worked its way down his back as he struggled to keep his hips from bucking up involuntarily. Maybe he wasn’t as immune to the physical aspect as he had thought. George just smirked, clearly feeling like he had won. He reached over Matty’s shoulder to the backpack that was nestled in the sand by his head, containing their phones and wallets for safe keeping. 

George pulled out a bottle of sunscreen, and poured a generous amount of the thick creamy white lotion into his palm. He rubbed his hands together, distributing the lotion, before placing a hand on either side of Matty’s neck, causing him to take a shuddering breath as he dragged his hands across the column of his throat bringing them together and down over the bump of his clavicle. George’s smirk grew as he massaged the lotion into Matty’s chest, taking care to work it into the ink of his tattoo, skimming his nipples and tickling his sides. Matty was breathing heavily now, trying to seem unaffected even as George purposely shifted his weight, and dug his fingers into Matty’s flank trying to get him wound up, trying to get him to break first. He wished he hadn’t slept through George reapplying sunscreen to his back.

Matty couldn’t take the teasing anymore, he reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of George’s neck, tugging him back down for a kiss, grinding his hips up against George’s own. He could feel George rock hard and leaking against his stomach, the fact that they were rutting against each other like teenagers making his stomach tingle.  

“You awake now?” George asked cheekily, as they panted, breathing into each other's mouths.

Matty didn’t even bother giving him a response.

#allylikethecat #ask ally #anon ask #prompt fill #drabble #kiss prompts #gatty #matty x george #matty healy rpf #matty healy fanfiction #the 1975 rpf #george daniel rpf #george daniel fanfiction #I hope this is what you were looking for!! #i had this idea of matty falling asleep on the beach #and then i saw the pictures of them in the water #and was like whelp thats 100% happening #but imagine they're somewhere a little more tropical #a little more .... likely to be sunburnt

[the-lil-exorcist]

Nighthawks

TIMING: Before Dark Waters LOCATION: Driftwood Diner PARTIES: @the-lil-exorcist & @vanishingreyes SUMMARY: Lil and Xó both, for very separate reasons, go to get some late night diner food. While not completely sure of the other, they do get to talking while waiting for pancakes. CONTENT WARNING: light substance abuse tw (there are mentions of people who are probably drunk near them, but they don't interact)

Lil yawned in the back of her hand as she moved to sit at the diner’s counter thinking that a coffee would be nice while she waited for the sunrise to come. She had set a ghost trap knowing that the poltergeist normally appeared specifically in a rocking chair around four am - and while she knew it was probably against ‘protocol’ she had decided that she didn’t need to wait for the old woman to get trapped and start fussing at her.  After all, it was dark enough she couldn’t knit or keep herself awake with other little activities and she’d rather not succumb to that nightmarish sleep she’d been having. Without Jonas there to take turns napping, it felt too lonely for Lil to stay even if she should. Instead she had started hanging out at twenty-four hour spots like the diner waiting on her ghost traps to catch them. It felt a lot less lonely that way, talking to the staff and catching a cup of coffee. 

It almost felt like she had friends, and honestly she started taking most of the counter to herself talking to the night shift and making sure to bring in bakery treats every occasionally. At the very least, they didn’t seem to mind her taking up real estate and telling them stories and trying new restaurant items. It usually was just Lil and the occasional lost soul, so she got a lot more comfortable then she probably should. That was until she heard Lola the waitress on duty clear her voice and Lil saw her nod to a very pretty lady that clearly was trying to find a seat away from the group on the other side of the counter  - which was pretty impossible with Lil being sprawled out. 

“Ah - sorry let me scoot down for you,” Lil said as she realized trying to gesture to her that she can sit down away from the other group. Moving her bag and gathering up her knitting to not take up as much space as she was, Lil tried not to blush as she made space even if Lola was snickering slightly earning a look from the exorcist. “I didn’t see you there - here I’m not saving a spot or anything , feel free to take any of them. ” 

___

She’d woken up in the middle of the night craving diner food. Xóchitl wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but she did remember her moms making her pancakes in the middle of the night more than once, when she was little. Which had led to her falling back asleep with syrup stuck on her cheeks and in her hair. But she’d been happy, then. Now it was more of an excuse to find something to do to distract herself - and thankfully she had no appointments on her schedule until 10am tomorrow (or was it today, now?) so she could afford to not be in tip-top shape first off in the morning.

The diner was somewhat empty - though there was a small group on one side of the counter that Xóchitl was not entirely certain she wanted to sit near. However, looking wide-eyed and lost was also distinctly not what she had planned - nor what she would settle for, at all. So instead she adjusted her posture, standing straight as she surveyed the space, before she noticed the waitress on duty clear her throat and nod towards where another woman was sitting, knitting materials and the like spread out all around her.

“Oh, it’s fine.” She flashed the briefest of smiles. “But thank you.” She sat down, only one space away from the other woman, before ordering a plate of pancakes and a cup of coffee, no sugar, no cream. “I’m Xóchitl.” Finally turning to face the other woman, eyes glossing over the way her hands fit against the knitting. “You are sure I’m not bothering you?”

___

Lil settled back into her seat, a little more chagrined then she normally was at the diner. After all, normally she’d be talking off Lola’s ears, but now she actually had to work. While the others at the counter certainly counted as customers, Lil knew that they didn’t care what she said and doubted they would remember. 

So instead Lil ducked her head a little going to make sure she hadn’t messed up her knitting as she waited for the other to settle in - holding back an admonishment for saying thank you. After all, Lola was a - damn Lil couldn’t ever seem to remember. She wasn’t a fae at least and Lil wasn’t. So instead she went back to the soft pink yarn she was carefully maneuvering in her hands. After all, Jonas and her were likely going to still be here in the fall, and it was going to get cold. He was going to need another sweater.  At the other telling Lil their name, she paused and looked up meeting the others eyes. “You’re not bothering me at all. I’m Lil,” She said with a smile. “Also you picked well, the pancakes are good.” 

___

“Xóchitl,” she responded. “I just know some people like their space, so I figured it was only polite to ask,” she offered a warm smile to Lil. “I figure pancakes are a good choice almost always. Can I get you anything, since I’ve decidedly invaded your space?” The other woman was beautiful, and already seemed like a much better choice than her other seating partner options.

“Weirdly, there’s surprisingly few 24-hour places back in Boston. There’s rules and stuff about that, so it’s wild that up in a town in Maine, there’s one.” Xóchitl shook her head. “Tangent, not what you needed to hear.” The waitress came over and Xóchitl put in an order for her pancakes, turning back to Lil and nodding towards the waitress as if to say ‘please, order something’.

___

“Nice to meet you,” Lil said, matching the other’s smile. She appreciated what the other said, and usually Lil was pretty interested in being alone, but lately talking to people seemed like a good way of keeping herself awake. After all, she did need to find her family and knowing more people was going to be helpful too. “Fair enough, but I don’t mind at all. Also they do pretty much everything well here, and I’m not just saying that because Lola will give me an evil eye if I don’t.” She said with a joking manner. At the offer of something Lil tilted her head and said, “Oh I wouldn’t want to impose.” 

At the talk of there not being any twenty four hour places Lil pondered  that for a moment.  “Huh. Yeah I’ve never heard about something like that up here. Although I think it’s a bit surprising there’s no 24 hour places in Boston. I figured you’d need some. Although I guess that can’t be helped if there’s regulations on that.” After all, Lil would have been rather unhappy to not have anywhere to go when it was this late and she couldn’t go home. Although she partially expected that this place was mostly open for the college students and the people with night jobs like her, surely they had that in the bigger cities too. At the gesture Lil couldn’t help but comply, not wanting to cause any friction with her new talking buddy, “Could I get a coffee when you’ve got the chance?” 

Turning back to Xóchitl, Lil asked, “ So are you from Boston then? I think I’ve been there a few times, but I don’t know too much about it.” Lil was well traveled, but it was honestly mostly places that were haunted. She never really had time to see the sights, so it was interesting to hear others talk about it.  

____

“You as well,” the woman was at least more tolerable than some in town. Which sounded more like something Xóchitl might’ve said as a child, trying to fit in with the seventy-year-old white ladies on World’s End Isle, rather than something present-day her would say. Certainly, she could still come off more than just a bit self-focused, but that was more out of protection than anything else. Not out of snobbishness or a feeling that she was better than everyone else. She just was. Was, period, full stop. Not better, not worse. She just happened to have an especially interesting (and terrible) childhood, but she’d used that line once to pick up a guy at a bar, and had felt immediately and entirely ill about it after, and resolved to never do that again. “You wouldn’t be imposing. I asked you.” She nodded. “I just figure pancakes are always a good choice.”

Xóchitl nodded, “yes, I suppose so. But we don’t really have them, it’s not a fancy city in the same way that New York is, and there’s maybe rules or something? I don’t know, I never learned that.” Thankfully, her new companion ordered a coffee, at least, which wasn’t much, but it was something, and she’d settle for that for now, at least.

“From… yeah.” This was a stranger, so she could lie, at least for now. “Well, mostly. I think of it as where I’m from, though if I could pick anywhere, I’d pick Monterrey - Mexico, not the California one - because my mom’s from there. But Boston suffices well enough. How about you? Are you from here or elsewhere?”

____

Lil nodded at the idea that the other had, and honestly it was a fair enough statement. After all, she never offered help herself unless she meant it. It was something drilled down to her core, if you offer something no matter how small you have to mean it. It’s why Lil, despite not being a fae or even particularly principled, only gave what she meant to give.  It wasn’t something she was exactly used to other people believing though. “I get that. Although I’m not super hungry at the moment.” 

Lil, after all, had been there for awhile and Lola had insisted she eat something when she came in. She had appreciated the care, even if she didn’t really understand why. At the comment that Boston wasn’t fancy, she wondered what cities would be considered that. “That’s fair. I mean I think New York is pretty famous for not sleeping right?” Lil said with a little bit of a smile, thinking that it was a pretty silly joke herself. She was pretty sure she’d been to the city, but again it was mostly blurred with other cities at the moment. She was to tired to parcel them out well. 

As they started to talk, Lil decided that it probably wasn’t super rude to start knitting again, still looking up at Xóchitl as she spoke and only glancing down. After all, Lil was pretty used to knitting in the dark at this point, she didn’t need to constantly look at it. “Oh neat. I’ve never been to Mexico, but I bet that’s a lovely place. Especially if your mom’s from there,” Lil said nodding a little. She wished she was somewhere else sometimes - well most of the time. It wasn’t the town exactly, but the obligations that were here. While Lil wasn’t exactly free to do what she wanted anywhere, she did feel more freedom on the road. It didn’t come with legacies after all. “I’m from here,” Lil said honestly, “Although I just got back in town this year. Are you settling here well? I know it can be quite a change in atmosphere even if you’re just coming up from Boston. - Which if you don’t mind me asking where in Boston are you from? One of my friends settled there so I’m always curious.”  It felt like a good way to keep the conversation going, although she very much doubted that she’d met Jameson - mostly because Jamie was pretty introverted and unlikely to make friends.

___

“Fair enough. I don’t know why I’m hungry, but it’s nothing to stress over, and if it means I get pancakes, then so be it.” Xóchitl did her best to keep her voice on the more gentle end of things – not that she ever considered herself a harsh person, but still. Gentle was better, especially in the middle of the night, especially with strangers in a diner. Or rather, a stranger in a diner.

“I think it’s called the city that never sleeps, yeah. God knows when I -” she frowned for a moment, before deciding that maybe it wasn’t too much to share that she’d gone to school there. After all, anybody who looked her up would know she’d gotten her doctorate there. “When I lived there, I didn’t always sleep a lot, though probably due to a lot of schooling work.” And clubbing, and occasional bouts of insomnia. But her companion didn’t need to know that. “But yes, it’s famous for that, yeah. I will say, I crave pizza at 1am sometimes, and you just can’t really get that anywhere else I’ve lived.”

The other woman took up her knitting again and Xóchitl could only be said to look impressed at what her companion was doing. “It is. You are?” The fact that the woman had also been away for a time and only recently returned made Xóchitl lose focus on everything else she was thinking about. “Beacon Hill area. Near the Common? The Public Gardens? I – well, I was born here, too. Where did your friend settle, if you don’t mind my asking? Also just curious.”

___

“To be fair, it is that time of night,” Lil said with a bit of a smile. She usually found that she ate at least once when she was pulling an all-nighter. It always seemed to be something like ‘lunch’. Still, it felt a little different to be around the town this late at night and eating. It was almost more soothing than during the day. Less busy and chaotic at the very least. She wondered if that’s how Jonas felt in the morning when he was baking bread. 

Lil listened at Xó talk about New York and wondered idly how she must have been like there. Lil found that she was a little different everywhere she’d been. Sometimes she was more extroverted and went and talked to people - and other times she hadn’t talked to anyone other than Jonas for days. It all depended. Hearing her hesitate on saying that she’d gone to University there made Lil pause, thinking that maybe she had overstepped somewhere. “I can imagine. Must be loads to do even at night. - Oh man getting pizza at 1am that’s got to help with anything. I don’t think there’s anywhere around here that’ll do that.” She was starting to babble, but managed to stop herself as her knitting speed picked up. 

Looking back to her, Lil saw her looking at her knitting and for a moment her hands stuttered slightly before picking back up. “Yup,” Lil said with a little nod. It wasn’t uncommon for people to be surprised. She actually thought she matched Wicked’s Rest pretty well, but hell she wasn’t sure if that was a bragging point. “Oh you were born here? ” Lil said, catching that bit and continuing, “ No I don’t mind at all - he ended up in Dorchester - I think that’s what it was called. I tried to get him to go to South Boston - He’s from Ireland originally you see - but he just scoffed at me.” Lil said with a chuckle. Pulling a bit of knitting out of her back that was a cardigan with a shamrock in green with a grey background and black border she continued, “Actually just finished his Christmas present before you came in.” 

___

“You are still being very kind to be so fair to me.” Xóchitl certainly wasn’t about to complain about that, but she also knew that this particular stranger had to be one of the kinder ones she’d come across, given her immediate readiness to be so fair, and so she decided to take it as a positive sign (her moms would have to be proud of that, jumping to a first positive rather than an immediate negative or neutral).

“There’s certainly never a shortage of options,” she offered Lil a small smile. “Not that I took part in all of them – though to be fair, I don’t know if that’s impossible unless you’re someone who literally never sleeps, and that itself is impossible because you’d have serious, possibly life-threatening consequences without ever sleeping.” She chewed on her lip – not a typical action for Xóchitl but she had to wonder, if only for a moment, if the facts she shared were too much for an initial meeting with someone. Still, what was said was said and she offered a nod of sympathy towards Lil’s remark about there being nowhere around here to do that.

She gave a nod to Lil’s question about her being born in town. Nothing more, so as to not encourage questions, though if questions came up, Xóchitl would do her best to answer them to the fullest extent of her ability, without giving anything unnecessary away. “There is a place in Boston called Dorchester, yeah. Ah, well, yes, that is the stereotypically Irish part of the city, though there’s a lot of Irish people throughout the whole place.” Her gaze followed Lil’s hands as she pulled out the cardigan. “Holy shit, you’re incredibly impressive with the whole knitting thing.”

___

Lil couldn’t help the snort and chuckle that came from the other’s observation. “What can I say? I try to see the positive.” It wasn’t exactly true, Lil was probably more of a pragmatist then an optimist, but it seemed at least a little more quick witted to claim the latter rather than the former. 

“It seems like a world of possible adventures though, it would be hard to sleep knowing that’s possible,” Lil responded thinking about her own travels lightly wondering if she would have ended up as listless as she was now if she was in a big city like that. Lil constantly wanted to move, her mind always on the next place, almost avoiding sentimentality and other binding things. It seemed like the only place she’d ever made those roots was here, and maybe she always intended that.  “ But yeah I think going to everything would make you a little sleep deprived for normal company,” Lil said with a bit of a smile that she hoped wasn’t too weary. After all, she hadn’t slept all that much lately. She was always jealous of people who could - she’d never been good at sleeping even before coming back - but she figured it came with the territory. 

Lil noticed how quiet the other seemed to get about being from this town, and figured it wasn’t a story she needed. After all, it wasn’t like her own story was pleasant, and sometimes nightmares were better left unvoiced. Instead, she latched onto a subject that was lighter. 

 Lil laughed and said, “I knew it. He would end up in an area accidentally filled with Irish people anyway. He is a walking case for irony being a cheat for hilarity.” 

At the complement Lil paused for a moment and said, “Oh - I appreciate that. Just a hobby I picked up. It’s pretty calming.” Also, if she was being honest, it was because she could do it in the dark when she was waiting for ghosts to show up. She also wouldn’t have to wake up to do it when Jonas was asleep, her steady clicking sounds let alone her shouts not being able to wake him up. “It can become second nature pretty quickly if you ever wanted to pick it up.” 

___

Makes one of us, held itself back just behind Xóchitl’s lips. Which wasn’t entirely fair, she supposed. She did try to see the positive sometimes. It just wasn’t always easy. It wasn’t as though she stewed herself in negativity either. Always in the middle-ground. Or always trying to be that way.

Pragmatic, she supposed her mothers would call her. Mackenzie had been an optimist, and look where it had gotten her.

Which wasn’t fair to say at all, but there were some days where Xóchitl wondered if she’d been more careful, if she’d still be alive. Which wasn’t any sort of a productive train of thought, but it was one she nonetheless had – more than she’d care to admit. “Yeah, exactly.” Putting down real roots anywhere seemed nearly impossible, and yet she’d found herself back in this town,  back in some sort of a home, even if it wasn’t a place she wanted to call home any longer. She’d spent too long floating around in the city, and maybe that was why New York City had felt good, in a way. Because she could disappear. As sad as Mackenzie’s death was, it hadn’t been national newsworthy, and even if she still thought that her friend deserved to be known by all, at least she didn’t have to be “that dead girl’s best friend” wherever she went.

“Sounds like it.” She commented, taking another sip of her drink.

A nod at the comment about the knitting. “I can see that. It’s good to have things that do that, I think.” It could have been a question, but Xóchitl firmly ended the sentence. It was safer to be definitive. “I’ll consider it, though I’m not sure if I’d be good at it. Still, do you offer lessons?” She raised an eyebrow. “I could pay, if you did.”

___

Lil wasn’t quite sure what the other was thinking, looking over at her, but she figured that they might have more in common then they knew. If that was true, then it was better not to poke Xó and instead let the calm of the night settle between them. It was soothing, at the very least, at this time of night. It almost made Lil forget everything that was pressing in, and she hoped her companion thought the same. It was moments like this that made her remember the dark wasn’t always so scary.  Taking a sip of her coffee, after putting down her needles for a moment, Lil nodded. “Yeah, It’s pretty relaxing, all things considered.” At the idea of lessons Lil tilted her head and laughed, “For you? Sure. I’d love to. Although you don’t need to pay me. You’re nice to talk too and that’s enough payment for me.” Thinking about it for a moment she reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper and a nub of a pencil and wrote down her number, not wanting to impose too much. After all, she wasn’t quite sure if she was serious. Writing out her name and phone number she placed it  near Xó’s plate and said, “Here’s my number. Feel free to reach out if you want to learn. Or you know, if you have any other fun facts about Boston or New York. I’m not picky.”

#substance abuse tw #just incase #Para: Xó #all that is shown to me; paras #this was a lot of fun to write and thank u Emily for writing with me <3