#I can be trusted to make decisions quickly and without second guessing myself

[horatiocomehome]

BTW if you saw me posting that doodle as a reblog of the explofing him post and then a new post and then a reblog of the sweet free cheese post before I decided on an ask. no you didn’t

[morg-among-the-stars]

Everything Under Control, Growing into Autistic Young Adulthood

I’m turning 20 this year, I live at home. I’m working through community college and planning to transfer to a four-year school.

It’s set quite clearly what my pathway is: get good grades, transfer, live at home until I graduate college.

Then, I can start to branch out into proper independence, maybe live on my own, or sort out living with my partner, something of the sort. It’ll be my decision.

I’m passive in discussing it all. In the loving words of my girlfriend, I don’t seem “too jazzed about it.”

And they’re right.

I’m passive for a reason, I’m letting it go on by me because what I want doesn’t make much sense, at least to my parents.

In a completely ideal world, I would work a library job and be able to write on the side, maybe free-lance or journaling, I haven’t decided.

But I can’t tell a person I’m an English major without the dreaded, “Oh, so you want to be a teacher!” talk (I’m not discrediting teachers, we need them! It’s just… always the first thing people think when anyone says they’re pursuing English, and my parents don’t help with that, necessarily).

I’m held back in redundant ways because I’m on the spectrum. I wasn’t trusted to cook until recently, just as one example. Recently. I’m going to be 20 this year.

I’m second guessed constantly, even about things I know as facts. My own interests are a big one, anything I say about my own special interests, my parents have my sister fact-check. You wouldn’t fact check a mechanic about cars, would you? Why are you fact checking my knowledge? (The ironic thing is that outside of my family, I’m completely respected in my knowledge. My good friend @turniptitaness jokingly calls me the Ambassador for The Politician, and while that title is said in a joking manner, I’m at least not second guessed in a thing I’m known for knowing a lot about. That’s only one example.)

I have to walk this line, too, this line between “too autistic” and “not autistic enough.” Which is hard, because I’m autistic no matter what. I’ve learned quickly that stimming or infodumping are frowned upon in my home, so I don’t do them. But that bites me in the ass because then I’m “barely autistic,” whatever that means. There’s a redundant measurement of my autism that’s been put on to me.

By other people. I don’t even get a say in my own autism advocacy or my own autistic joy, because in my house, autistic joy rarely exists. It’s only ever brought up as a negative. “Morgan struggles in school, she’s autistic.”

The writing achievements I’ve gained throughout school, for example, even when being about special interests, have nothing to do with autism. But they do, inherently. Writing an analytical paper about a special interest, recalling scenes from memory, was due to my intense passion.

It’s a terrible line to walk. I have to take pride in not having accommodations because it helps me to “blend in” more.

No one has considered whether I really care about blending in, appearing “normal.”

To a degree, of course I do. Of course I want to present myself in a respectful way.

But I, me, Morgan in my own mind, do not care if I get weird looks from people if I stim.

I don’t care if I “look autistic.” I am autistic. There is no look.

In myself, I’m proud of talking about it. I don’t want to hide it.

And I’m not going to lie, I have moments of sensory overload, sometimes bad sensory days in total. Where I wake up and can feel so viscerally uncomfortable in my own skin that I don’t want to get out of bed and become overwhelmed by the smallest of things.

But I can’t express that, either. When my disability, is disabling, I can’t talk about it.

Walk that fine line.

Everything under control.

A lot of it out of my control.

When it’s my life at the end of the day.

[lookingfts]

Hi! I hope you won't mind my question. What is the appeal of Kate and Ben? I love your writing but I just can't bring myself to read Sharp Edges. If Anthony is with Edwina for a while he is being the bad guy but Kate with Ben just don't bring negative reaction with people. What's different with Anthony/Kate being in a relationship with her sister/his brother? I remember in your other fic Say my name that Anthony had one sexual encounter with Edwina and Kate reacted badly knowing that. And they never even slept together. And I just can imagine how awful it felt to Anthony knowing that Kate had regular sex with his brother. How could he ever get that image out of his mind? He never loved Edwina but Kate must have loved Ben if she was with him for so long. How Anthony got over That fact? I guess I just don't understand how people are ok with that...

Hm, an interesting question. I will say, firstly, that I wrote Sharp Edges knowing that some people would not be interested in reading it. A lot of readers don't care to read Kate or Anthony dating/sleeping with anyone else, and that's fine! Sometimes I write fics that have challenging dynamics, and if people aren't comfortable or interested, I fully understand skipping them. There are plenty of fics that simply don't interest me for one reason or another. And I'm personally fine with fics where Kate and Anthony sleep with other people, as long as it's not an issue of them cheating on each other (which I have yet to see in a fic).

Sharp Edges was always meant to be a flip of canon. I personally don't think Anthony is a villain for being with Edwina - for example, in Say My Name. They are all just people making bad decisions in a hard situation. The difference, I suppose, is that SMN Anthony never falls in love with Edwina and realizes quickly that it won't work out, while SE Kate DOES fall in love with Ben and tries to make their relationship work until he cheats.

I can't speak to why people get more upset about Anthony and Edwina than Kate and Ben - I think there are too many factors at play, and obviously every story has different variations of those characters. SMN Kanthony and SE Kanthony are not the same people - they are different people with different experiences.

How does Anthony get over it? He does it because he wants Kate badly enough to put the rest aside. He was massively unhappy without her, and he doesn't waste his second chance. Is he always going to struggle with her and Ben? Yes - that does come up toward the end of the story. There are always going to be lingering effects of that, and it's never going to be as easy as it would have been if Anthony had not rejected her two years earlier. But Kate and Anthony love each other, and Ben also moves on with Sophie. So they live with the memories and the awkwardness to be happy.

My goal in writing this story was to make Kate, Anthony, and Ben three sympathetic characters who have all made mistakes and who all care about each other. None of them are villains and none of them are entirely innocent. After most fics where the characters make mistakes, there will be some people who wonder how their mistakes can be forgiven. It happened in canon as well. But I believe that if you love someone, trust them, and trust that whatever was an issue in the past IS in the past, then you can forgive them.

Or you don't, and you move on. Kate didn't forgive Ben for cheating because she didn't want to be with him enough to continue trying to make it work. Anthony and Kate were simply different.

[bleachbleachbleach]

Some things that have been inspiring me recently--

1. I took myself to see The Boy and the Heron last night after work, and it is phenomenal. Driving home I was thinking about how much I think all of you, mutuals, would enjoy it. It is just like, completely, completely my very specific wavelength? It made me feel like it was made for me, and I feel like it was made for a lot of you, too.

2. I've been continuing my Six Feet Under rewatch, which I mentioned here before though now I can't remember why I would have. (ETA: OH RIGHT I was learning about Isshin and Ryuuken *definitely* having watched Quincy M.E.!) This show holds one of my hearts of hearts, always and forever, and what I love so deeply about it is the way it manifests ugly feelings. Sure, TV can make you feel happy or sad, and that's great, but what SFU is really good at is manifesting frustration, suffocation--that feeling of pressure building up inside you and you wanting to scream and scream and never getting to (except then sometimes, you do). It just holds you there and it doesn't back down. I feel like often TV too quickly wants to resolve the problem, achieve climax and denouement, reassure the viewer that the narrative knows what it's doing. But this show is like, we're going to hold this. We're going to hold it, and we're going to hold it. And whether the characters are trying to be good (or not trying at all), they have so much capacity to do the very human thing of being presented with the opportunity to make things better, only to seize it and make things worse--not just the second time, but the third, fourth.

And it makes me wonder, like, could my Bleach blorbos do that? my knee-jerk reaction is no, they're living different lives and they're very different people than any of the many people of SFU. I could see them making it worse once, definitely; twice, yeah, for sure. But I feel like they couldn't get much further than that? It's not in their character; or maybe it's not in their genre. Like, maybe in a world where pro- and antagonists are somewhat more clearly defined, you run up against some line. But it makes me think about like, under what circumstances could my blorbos do their third or fourth worse thing in a row? Can I imagine that circumstance? Could I write it? I haven't yet.

So I keep thinking about what that would look like, or whether I really think that it's just not in them--or whether it actually is, and I just don't trust them enough. You'd need to trust them enough, I think. I guess I mean that as a parameter for it happening in that trenchant way where it's simultaneously the worst decision a character could have made but also the most true decision they could have made--not something that's just twisting the knife for no reason, or for drama.

What about you, or you and your blorbos? (If your blorbo is of a more antagonistic nature, I think the question is more about what, from the vantage point of the blorbo, would feel wrong to them, or that they might realize regret over, regardless of whether their POV aligns with the normative scale around these things. If they, themselves, are never going to feel fucked about it [even if they're simultaneously feeling righteous about it] it doesn't count.)

3. I've been reading North Country: A Pedagogical Almanac, which is probably less about Bleach than it is a book that makes you feel life is worth living--like, REALLY living--but it has this incredible, meditative, deeply lived quality that is as plain as it is profound, and I do not use that word lightly. It's written so beautifully it makes you want to write. You read it and it's like, this is described in such a way, or this sentence exists in such a way as I have never seen before--without feeling overwrought or too conscious of its performance.

[euphoriainteriorsuae]

How to Stay Involved in Your Home Design Without Feeling Overwhelmed?

Bringing your home vision to life is thrilling—until the sheer number of choices makes your head spin. From picking the right sofa shade to debating over pendant lights, the process can quickly shift from exciting to exhausting. But staying involved in your home design doesn’t mean drowning in decisions.

Start with the Big Picture

Instead of getting lost in the details right away, think about how you want your space to feel. Cozy? Sleek? A little eclectic? Having a clear mood in mind will make every choice simpler. I once spent days debating over dining chairs—until I reminded myself that my goal was a relaxed, inviting space. Suddenly, the choice was obvious.

Limit Your Choices (Your Sanity Will Thank You)

Decision fatigue is real. The average person makes around 35,000 decisions daily, and adding endless design choices on top of that? Recipe for stress. Pick three to five options per item and work within those. Too many? Ask your designer to curate a shortlist—trust me, it’s a lifesaver.

Be Involved Without Hovering

There’s a fine line between engaged and overwhelmed. You don’t need to approve every drawer pull, but big decisions? Stay in the loop. Set check-ins with your designer so you’re not constantly second-guessing but still feel in control. Think of it like a road trip: you’re navigating, but you don’t need to stop at every exit.

Let the Pros Handle the Details

Interior design in Dubai has grown into an art of blending luxury with personal expression. But that doesn’t mean you have to micromanage every detail. Designers thrive on bringing ideas to life—give them direction, then let them do what they do best. After all, you don’t tell a chef how to sauté your dish, right?

Trust Your Gut (But Have a Safety Net)

Ever picked something just because it was trendy? We’ve all been there. Trust your instincts, but when in doubt, create a backup plan. A well-balanced design has timeless pieces with a few trend-forward accents. This way, you get the best of both worlds—style that lasts without feeling stuck in a time capsule.

Stats to Keep in Mind

85% of homeowners feel happier in a well-designed home. (Yes, your space really does impact your mood!)

Projects with homeowner involvement (but not over-involvement) tend to finish 30% faster than those with constant design changes.

FAQ

How much input should I have in my home design? Enough to reflect your taste, but not so much that you’re second-guessing every step. Define key preferences, then trust your designer to fill in the gaps.

What if I change my mind halfway through? That’s normal! If it’s a minor tweak, easy fix. Big structural changes? Best to finalize early—rewriting the blueprint mid-build is no fun for anyone.

How do I avoid feeling overwhelmed? Break decisions into stages. Focus on core elements first—layout, color palette—before diving into details like decor and finishes. One step at a time.

Home design should be exciting, not exhausting. Stay involved, set boundaries, and let your dream space come to life without the stress.

[twistedmusings]

My Kind of Human

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one. 

I swear on my askbox that I am working on requests but this idea popped into my head and now it won’t leave and people always tell me to find a niche and I think my niche is angsty smut. And in this niche I will dwell ò uó. Aside from that, I’m very asexual so if my sexy scenes are bad you are more than welcome to roast me.   Reader is [G/N]  Warnings: Lemon soda (smut), possessive Malleus, bareback, dub-con and our good ol’ dragon boy just putting you under a spell so he can have you all to himself. 

“Do you have someone special, Tsunotarou?” 

Malleus stops walking as he looks down at your frame, your eyes staring up at the sky while you both are sitting down at the step of Ramshackle. 

“Special?” 

“Yeah.” you sigh as your eyes remain fixed on the stars, “Someone special. Like someone you wouldn’t trade for the world.” 

His first thought is his Grandmother. She had taken over the role of ruler of the Valley of Thorns and had let him grow in a somewhat normal fae childhood. He had heard many stories of children being forced to take the throne early on in their life and how damaging that decision turned out to be not just for the country but for the child as well. He was glad that his Grandmother remained steadfast and strong. There was also Lillia. Lillia, despite his constant antics, was always a guiding hand for Malleus in things he did not understand. Even now, Lillia would lend an ear whenever Malleus had a question about social interaction. Whether he would get a straight answer or a joke, that was just up to the older fae. 

“I have some people I consider that important.” Malleus looks up with you, “How about you, child of man?”

Your eyes remained fixed on the stars. 

You nod, “I do.” 

He laughs, “Is it your first year friends? I am sure Sebek would be glad to hear you say that.” 

“He would yell in my face before telling me he felt the same, you know how he is.” 

You two share a giggle before letting silence take over once again. “But it isn’t like that. The way I love Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel and Sebek is different from what I’m talking about.” 

Malleus watches your eyes shine under the bright stars, some of them being reflected on your irises as you tilt your head and lean back to let your legs stretch out. 

“I’m talking about a person who you can’t live without, you know?” 

“I’m afraid I might need a bit more of an explanation.” 

You shrug, “I can’t fully explain it without sounding crazy but…imagine you one day find yourself completely alone. There is not one single person who understands what you are going through nor do they bother because they might believe that it is too hard to comprehend. You find yourself so alone that you start getting used to that loneliness.” 

The way your eyes sadden are not lost on him, copying your movements and leaning back so that he can stretch out as well. With how you are both positioned, your fingers are almost brushing. 

That wouldn’t do. 

You continue talking, not paying attention to how Malleus places his hand over yours. 

“But one day someone comes in and changes everything.” 

He lets himself feel the fluttering in his heart, having lost himself to this feeling a long time ago. The way his heart would beat faster when you smiled, when you laughed, how you would approach him without fear. From what Lillia had said, this was something akin to falling in love with someone. When asked who it was he was falling in love with, Malleus simply shook his head and avoided answering the question. 

What he felt for you was not for anyone else to know. 

“They just ‘get’ you.” you smile and close your eyes, “Everything thought you have, they somehow complete it. Long distances become shorter when you are with them and for a brief moment time just...stops. You find yourself yearning for this person and wonder if they think about you the same way, to the point of losing sleep. You want to be to them what they are to you.” 

You tilt your head towards him. 

“Am I making any sense?” 

Malleus nods and sits up, “More than enough.” 

He stares into your eyes, your color reflected back on his as he instinctively leans closer towards you. You were building up to something, he could feel it. The feelings you described, they were identical to the ones he felt for you. It hadn’t been that long since you came into his life but he couldn’t see himself not popping by Ramshackle dorm every night to share these talks with you. Malleus wasn’t necessarily that attached to you when you two first talked but the more you sought him out the more he opened himself up for you. 

Your conversations, your little adventures, your attention. 

It was all slowly consuming him and making him realize that you were no longer a human but his human. 

The question slipped out of him faster than he could think of it. 

“Who do you speak so highly of?” 

You turn to look at him, your body leaning towards him as well that he allowed himself to dwell in his imagination for a few seconds. His own body covering yours as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and asking him to take you with him the moment he graduated from this place. 

“It’s kinda what I wanted to talk about with you tonight.” you sit up with him and grin excitedly, “Remember what I told you about Crowley trying to find a way home for me?” 

He would answer your plea, taking your hand and kissing your palm before his lips made his way up your arm. 

“Well...he finally found it.” 

Malleus is pulled out his fantasy as he blinks twice, your smile shining just as bright as the stars above despite the awful revelation you had just given him. 

“I’m going home, Malleus.” 

You used his name. A part of him hoped that you would use his name when you two were in a much different and more favorable situation but you had just used his name to stab him in the heart with your wonderful news. 

“I was just saying all this because--I can’t believe I’m telling you this--before I came here I had these feelings about this person. They are everything to me but I was almost afraid to admit it? And this distance just...it just solidified what I felt for them.” 

He has to stop himself from reaching out to you and grabbing your wrist, thinking that the moment you got too far he would lose you forever. 

“Crowley says that I am going to be able to go back next week. So I’m just preparing myself to tell them everything I felt.” You turn to him and hold out your hand to help him stand up, one of the many things that Malleus loved that you did solely because he had an excuse to touch you. 

“I think a part of me just wanted to share this with you because I trust you. We’ve talked like this for so long that I think I just...tell you everything.” you smile sheepishly, “Which I hope you don’t mind, I did just spring it out of nowhere.” 

You were leaving him. 

“Tsunotarou?” 

You were leaving him for someone else. 

“Malleus?” 

You were leaving and he couldn’t stop it. You had these sorts of feelings for someone else and he couldn’t stop it. You opened him up and you were going to close him as if you were able to make the decision without any repercussions. You weren’t theirs, you also weren’t yours, you were his---

A hand shakes him from his thoughts as he focuses in on your eyes, his heart melting when he sees panic in them. 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? What did I do?” 

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes your hand so you both could stand up. 

“Nothing.” Malleus pats your head, your size difference being made apparent to him even more than before, “I guess this is goodbye?” 

“No need to make it dramatic.” you lean into his touch, like a pet to their owner, “I’ll find some way for us to keep in contact. And if there isn’t--well then I will make one.” 

“I feel the same.” 

Malleus looks down and digs into his school jacket, smiling when you make a comment about this being a goodbye present. He puts a finger to his lips before pulling out a spool of thread, the top of the spool decorated with a sharp needle. “Give me your hand, child of man.” 

You nod and smile, doing as he told. “Is this going to be a blood pact of sorts? You don’t seem like the type, Tsunatarou~” 

He chuckles, “It is just a customary practice in the Valley of Thorns. Something that I believe will make our connection unbreakable.” 

Malleus brings your finger closer, the tip touching the spool as he expertly pricked your finger. You hiss for a second before smiling as you wave your finger. “Strangest friendship ritual ever, but it is very you so I will gladly partake in it…” 

A feeling of vertigo overtakes you as you lose your footing, your eyes closing as you feel yourself fall to the ground but finding yourself pressed against something warm. 

“...Mal--?”

You try to look up at him but gasp softly when your legs are swept under you, Malleus picking you up bridal style as you feel your eyelids growing heavier. Almost as if it was a chore to keep them open. 

“A true unbreakable connection.” 

Malleus opens the door to Ramshackle quickly, looking behind to see if he would need to take care of any pests that had made their way to the old dorm. Without any in sight, he closed the door, the lights on Ramshackle’s doorstep snuffing themselves out as the smoke drifted up into the starry sky. 

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

“Fgnaaa~!” Grimm yawns as he floats towards Ramshackle, yawning as he rubbed at his tired eyelids. 

Hands roaming up and down your torso, slowly undoing buttons as your hands rested on his wrists. Sloppy kisses shared between two amateurs but in between said kiss there seemed to be a forced passion, a need for the person above you to communicate how much he had wanted you. He had been caught stealing some food from Monstro Lounge and Azul had put him to work just like before, it had been a redo of what happened in Octavinelle all over again. 

Wanted wasn’t the right word, needed was the way to describe how he was feeling. His mouth traveled from your lips to your neck, your mouth opening up to let out a soft moan but being quieted down by his fingers slipping inside so they could rub against your tongue. You could barely keep your eyes open but with how you were looking at him, it almost made him believe that you were the one that initiated this. 

“Hnng?” he looks to see the lights in Ramshackle are all off, his head tilting in curiosity. When did you start going to sleep this early? 

Legs parted, eyes looking away, your chest rising up and down as his fingers pressed deep inside of you to rub and prod at whatever he found. He used his other hand to turn your face, your eyes meeting as he whispers a couple of words. A veil is cast over your eyes as he feels you open up like a flower for him. Hips grinding down to meet his fingers, arms opening to welcome him closer, his name falling from your lips making him eager to finally show you how he felt about you.

Grimm opens the door and yawns as he makes his way to the kitchen, licking his lips as he imagined what you had cooked for dinner that night. However, the only thing he finds are three deluxe tuna cans and a note that certainly wasn’t in your handwriting. 

Your hold on him is tight, legs wrapped around his waist as he sinks deeper and deeper into you. Hands in his hair, going up his horns and then traveling down as he bit at the juncture between your neck and your shoulder blade in order to keep himself from pushing all the way inside. But your warmth was calling out to him, inviting him to push deeper and deeper until all you could feel was him and him alone. 

Even with the magic affecting your brain. 

“Don’t feel so good. Going to sleep early.” Grimm sits down on the counter and frowns as he opens one of the cans and starts munching down. 

“Say you love me…” 

You gasp as you feel him push your whole body up with his first thrust, the bed creaking in protest in your ears but no sound being heard outside of your door. 

Were you sick? Grimm takes a giant bite and hums as he thinks. With him being this tired he would immediately go up to the room you two shared together and cuddle himself on your chest but if you were sick…

“I love you! I love you I love you--Malleus--!” 

The sounds were all mixing together. Your moans, his groans, the protests from the bed and the wet slaps of his body meeting yours over and over again. You were so full, all the way up to  your throat that the words he so desperately wanted to hear were spilling out despite you not remembering thinking of them. You were thinking of nothing. Every time you tried to think about what you were doing a sharp pain would stop you, instead keeping you attentive to the pleasure the soon to be ruler of the Valley of Thorns was giving you. 

“You are mine, child of man. Body and soul...all of them mine!”

“Silly human. Getting sick like that. They should be taking care of themselves.” Grimm shakes his head as he keeps on eating the tasty treats you had left behind. If you had left something this good for him, he guessed he could forgive you. 

Your toes curled as you felt something warm gush inside, lips covering your own and drinking up all the sounds you were making. He whispered something into your ear but you couldn’t quite make out what he said. Something about heirs and a kingdom. Was he telling you a story? He pulled away to look into your eyes, your brain moving your hands so that they would cup his cheek. Your comfort seemed to stir something inside him as he brought you closer, your arms now wrapped around him as you rested your forehead on his shoulder. 

Ramshackle stayed silent throughout the night, the moon and stars shining light into each room. 

All except one. 

[lavendercodes]

Miss You

warnings: slight manipulation

fairly short fic

fluff (?), angst - catra x gn!reader

it was hard to keep your composure once you saw her. you hadn’t expected to, it wasn’t like you left the Horde with the intention of seeing anyone from there again. you swallowed your anxiety and turned away from the entrance. you hoped you would get the chance to see her again.

unfortunately, you wouldn’t be as lucky as to have your wish granted. Adora and Glimmer were busy planning something due to Catra’s sudden appearance. and Bow was off having a fun time with Perfuma. you didn’t want to bother him with your anxieties. it would only worry him and it was bad enough you didn’t really fit in with the group.

you needed some fresh air. you looked around and quietly walked out to the balcony. it was dark outside, you could see the bright lights slowly pouring out of the building.

the music was slightly muffled and it kept you somewhat calm. ever since you left the Fright Zone, you had felt weak. you thought it was the best decision, leaving with Adora and joining the rebellion. they were supposed to be the good guys. the Horde was doing so many horrible things, but the more you thought about it, the more you realized that you didn’t fit in with the ‘good guys’.

constantly, you would mess up or say something that didn’t seem very friendly. it would end up with you being scolded by Adora or Glimmer. and every time, it just made you feel more and more useless. you arms rested in the railing as you looked down at the ground.

“(Name).” a smooth voice called out.

your eyes widened and you stiffened. they seemed to notice this as a low chuckle left their lips. you turned around and met gazes with Catra. for a split second, you wanted to wrap your arms around her and next let go. however, you currently didn’t have that option.

“Catra...” you said breathlessly.

the girl approached you, her tail flicking side to side. as she stopped in front of you, it distantly attempted to curl around you out of habit.

“i take it you missed me.” Catra tilted her head to the side, “how precious...”

you squeezed your eyes shut, “please leave me alone.” you said.

Catra carefully lifted her hand to your face. you felt her palms touch your skin and immediately, a comforting sensation flooded your body. as much as you wanted to resist, you could help, but lean into Catra’s touch. she grinned at your lack of resistance to her and caressed your cheekbone a bit more.

“you shouldn’t be here.” you said softly, turning away from her hand.

“and why’s that?” Catra asked.

a sigh left your lips as you turned back to face her. “you know exactly why, Catra. Adora knows you’re planning something.” you said.

“and do you know what i’m planning?” Catra questioned.

there was a moment of hesitation. it was fairly obvious what the plan was. maybe the Rebellion didn’t realize it, but for someone who was trained in the Horde. with Catra, it was easy to find out what the plan was.

“if i had to guess, it would be to kidnap Glimmer or Bow.” you said, “or both.”

Catra smiled, “you always were smart.”

you scoffed and looked down at the stupid, fancy shoes you were wearing. “says you.”

“everyone here thinks i’m useless. i’m not even allowed in on plans because they still think i’ll betray them.” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“that’s how the Princesses are, (Name). you should know this by now.” Catra said.

you nodded in agreement.

the Horde taught you all from a young age how spineless the Princesses were. not caring for anybody, but themselves. when you left the Horde, you realized that their exaggerated tales weren’t that far off from the real story. how they only included people they felt fit in with them, how they left out others they called their friends.

without giving you a chance, they decided that you weren’t trustworthy. even Adora, who you had grown up with, slowly stopped trusting you. it hurt more than you could put into words.

“you could always come back with us.” Catra offered.

your teeth gently sunk into your lower lip, “go back? where i’ll be criticized for leaving in the first place? i’m a traitor, Catra.”

“you made a stupid decision.” Catra’s hand cupped your cheek once more, “we all mess up sometimes.”

once again, you leaned into her touch, but this time you didn’t pull away. her tail carefully curled around your waist and the both of you fell into a comfortable silence. you wanted to go back with Catra. it would be better if you stayed with her, you wouldn’t be judged. you could continue doing what you were trained to do and nothing would feel unnatural.

“i miss you.” Catra said softly.

you blinked a few times. you could hear a genuine tone in her voice. a smile slowly creeped on to your face, even an idiot could tell when they’re being manipulated. however, you really didn’t mind. as long as you could be with Catra again, you didn’t care what had to happen.

“i miss you too.” you whispered.

“will you come back with me?” Catra asked.

just as you were about to answer, Adora walked outside on to the balcony. she saw the both of you and you could see her face shift from confusion to anger. Adora quickly approached you both and pulled you away from Catra. you stumbled behind Adora and barely managed to regain your balance.

“what do you think you’re doing, Catra?”

the girl smirked and shrugged, “simply chatting with a good friend. is there something wrong with that? or is that illegal too?” she teased.

“you’re planning something. i know it.” Adora grumbled.

Catra smirked, “oh i’m sure you’re right.”

“(Name).”

your eyes turned back toward Catra. she winked at you and gave you a small wave before walking away. silence settled around you all as your eyes followed Catra walking back into the castle. Adora turned to face you and grabbed you by the shoulders.

“what are you thinking?” she practically yelled.

you winced, “stop yelling.” you said.

“do you know how dangerous Catra is? it’s already hard enough to trust you, (Name)!”

that’s what set you off.

“trust me?” you scoffed, “we were raised together and suddenly, you drag me away from all that i know to join the Rebellion. a group of idiotic Princesses who have no clue what they’re doing!”

“sorry, that i don’t fit in with your perfect group of sparkly princesses! sorry that i don’t wear a crown, or fancy outfits, or have magic!”

Adora’s eyes widened as she started to process everything you were saying. she hadn’t meant to make you so upset. she was simply frustrated that she couldn’t figure out what Catra was doing. the music inside the castle started to get slower and that was Adora’s signal to go back inside. you pushed past Adora and walked to the other side of the balcony.

she looked back at you one last time before walking back into the castle. your hands clenched tightly around the railing. this was the first time in a long time where you got unbelievably angry.

a sigh left your lips as you realized your grip on the railing. you could still feel the frustration bubbling up inside of you, but you didn’t really have the energy to deal with it. all you wanted to do was get out of that stupid outfit you were wearing and go back home, back to the Fright Zone. you pushed yourself away from the balcony and walked back into the castle.

by that point, everything appeared to be in shambles.

it seemed like Catra’s plan was already taking place. Adora was frozen on the floor and Glimmer was running after Catra. you approached the ice chamber and kneeled down next to Adora. she looked at you and practically pleaded to you with her eyes to release her. you smiled lightly and placed a hand on one of the ice shards.

“i guess you were right about one thing.” you admitted, “i can’t be trusted.”

with that, you got up and walked away from her. it get so refreshing to finally speak your mind. slowly, you rushed out on to one of the other balcony and saw an incapacitated Glimmer being dragged on a ship with Bow. you scanned over them, not being able to find Catra. you assumed she was still doing things around.

Scorpia looked at you and immediately recognized you. “(Name)!” she said excitedly.

you leaned off the edge of the ship a bit as you were headed back for the Fright Zone. admittedly, you were nervous to go back, it had been awhile and you had betrayed them. you looked down at your palms and squeezed them shut out of frustration.

“nervous?” you nodded as you felt a soft tail carefully curl itself around your waist.

“i feel guilty.” you said, “i left everything i had. everything we had all because i thought i could trust Adora. i thought she was right.”

you sighed and shook your head. “i don’t belong in a place full of princesses. they don’t like people different to them. no matter how much i tried to prove myself, they always denied me anything.”

Catra gripped your hands tightly and you turned you body to face her. the look on her face was upset, but it was obvious in her eyes that she held care for you. you chuckled lightly and brought your hand up to Catra’s cheek. she flinched a bit before relaxing and closing her eyes.

“you look good in that suit.” you hummed.

“shut up.” Catra hissed.

she turned to walk away and you burst out laughing, quickly going after her.

“Catra! stop, you know i can keep up with you right?”

“you ruined the moment, (Name).”

“oh, come on! Catra!”

[bokutoslittlebird]

I’m Sorry

Alpha!Ushijima x Beta!f!reader x Alpha!Oikawa

Warnings: THIS IS A SEQUEL to Regrets, intention of suicide, suicidal thoughts and actions [overdose, cutting, falling], mentions of self harm [overdose and cutting], angst, pregnancy, bonding mention, I did not look up Argentina resident rules

The rain was heavy today.

You felt as if it was the universe’s way of saying it was sorry for you. The ride back to school would be in the pouring rain that matched the gloominess of your heart, only to enter a campus where nobody wanted anything to do with you. His scent was all over you; despite being a Beta, you could feel it. You had been claimed and nobody would dare try and claim Ushijima Wakatoshi’s mate, despite the fact you’re not his mate.

Sobbing did little to ease the ache in your chest, eyes blotched from the constant tears and your nose sniffling as you tried to wipe away snot with your sleeves. Your sleeves, not his sleeves of a jacket you stole. Reading stories of how an Alpha would bestow their mate clothing would always warm your heart, but sitting on a dirty busstop with nobody but the rain beside you, your heart felt cold.

“What are you doing?” Someone asked. Your head snapped up to see a brunet looking down at you, his attire telling you he was dressed to run. Running? In pouring rain? What an idiot. He was gorgeous, though, hair collecting silver droplets that seemed to only accentuate his features. Your eyes trail down to the black collar adorning his neck, hidden beneath the white and blue jacket he wore. He quirked an eyebrow, giving off a small chuckle. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,”

“More like an idiot running in rain. What’s up with that?” You sniffle, rubbing at your raw nose and cursing the timing. An Alpha coming on a claimed Beta alone — words don’t need to be spoken for the other man to know why you’re crying. But instead of running off, he sits next to you. “You’re gonna get me wet, weirdo,”

“Well if I sit too close, I’d get snot on me, so maybe I’d be better keeping my distance, anyways,” he shoots back, barely batting an eye. You just scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Someone seems to have a problem with me. I don’t even know who you are, stranger,” you give off a grin, trying to keep up the light tone.

“Well, you’re wearing a Shiratorizawa jacket and you stink like Ushiwaka, so can you blame me for being a bit of an ass?” He says, grinning. Though you were keeping a light tone, his words quickly reminded you of the position you’re in. Gloomy day, pouring rain, busstop. Looking back to the ground, you sigh heavily.

“Well, at least it’s the most interaction I’ve had all day. Ushijima’s got a stick up his ass and no funny bone in his body, so I suppose if this is my last interaction, it’s better than him,” you off handedly say. The man beside you quirks his eyebrow once more, your words settling into his brain before he’s leaning closer to you. His shadow moves towards you, making you jump back. “What are you doing?”

“You’re pregnant,” he flat out says. Before you can shoot anything back, his eyes get sad as he pulls himself back some more. “You’re going to kill yourself because he abandoned you?”

“How-” you sputter, tears springing to your eyes once more, “how did you-”

“You know if he’s abandoned you, another Alpha can take claim, right? You’re not worthless,”

“Easy for you to say. I’m a Beta with an Alpha’s bond mark. An Alpha that doesn’t even want to talk to me. My family and friends have turned their backs on me because it’s my fault. I wouldn’t expect an Alpha to understand the other party’s feelings,” you say, wiping away the tears. Despite trying to appear strong, your eyes are wet and there’s snot running down your face. “No Alpha wants Ushijima Wakatoshi’s leftovers. Don’t make me laugh,”

“Well, a cute little Beta would look better with a genuine smile then tears in their eyes, wouldn’t you agree?” He smiles, rubbing your cheek, but you slap away his hand.

“Stop patronizing me. You sound like a creepy old man. Who even are you?”

“Oh, I didn’t think I had to introduce myself. I’m Oikawa Tōru,” he smiles once more, a genuine smile, as he holds out his hand. “And if there’s someone who hates Ushiwaka more than you, it’s me,”

“[Y/N]. You’re from Seijoh, right?” You shake his hand, although it’s brisk. His nod confirms your suspicions. The captain of the team that never beat Ushijima’s team, but always aimed for the top. Ushijima also mentioned how talented Seijoh’s setter was, but you never expected to be sitting on a busstop next to the man himself. “Well, you’ve gotten my life story and told me you hate Ushijima, so I guess it’s time for you to go back to running in the rain,”

“Nah, I can’t,” he shrugs, but you look at him confused, waiting for him to continue. Eventually, you ask him why. “Well, I can’t leave someone in need alone. If I leave, you’ll still kill yourself. You’re hurting and I can’t just abandon you. I’m not like other Alphas, you know.” You know his reference is to only Ushijima, but it warms your stomach nonetheless, seeing someone actually be there for you.

“I’m sorry you had to meet me then. If you hadn’t stopped, we’d both be blissfully unaware of each other’s presence,” you say, letting a sob wrack your body before covering it with a cough. “Guess I’m the weirdo getting sick,”

“Still thinking there’s no other option, huh?”

“Well what do you expect? You’re the only person who hasn’t told me to face my consequences on my own and turned your back on me. There really is no reason for me to stay here, especially if I have to raise a child without a support system. I’m still in high school, what the fuck,” you huff, running your hand through your hair, looking up at the sky, noticing how the rain has eased up and the sky is brighter. “I’ll be out when it comes, but the fact of the matter is I’ll graduate pregnant, who wants to go through that? I’m basically a cheap slut in everybody’s eyes. I just wanted to feel needed by someone I admire and this is what it results in? The more I think about it the more I want to down a bottle of painkillers and never wake up.”

“If nobody is sticking up for you, then maybe they’re not your real friends. Fair weather friends, only there for good tea and sunny days. If there’s nobody there for you, reach out for help,”

“I don’t want to be a burden,”

“People who will help you willingly won’t see it that way. Me sitting here with you isn’t burdening me, and I haven’t turned from you. I know we just met, but I want to help you. There’s a lot to live for and one setback doesn’t deserve to sever that line before you’ve even gotten to the good part. Good people exist, you just need to find them,”

“‘Find them’? I thought I had, so what’s the point in trying to find more, only to be disappointed?”

“[Y/N], was it? I’m right here, you know,” he puts a hand on his chest, a smile on his lips and shining in his eyes. “I’ve seen you at your lowest and I’m still here. Find someone like me,”

“That’s sweet, but I doubt there are multiple Oikawas running around in the rain,” you sigh, looking back up. It’s almost time for the bus, but you have a feeling that if he’s still here, then he won’t let you leave. “Are you gonna sit there until my opinion changes?”

“They don’t change that easily, trust me,” he chuckles, but it lacks the merry behind it. Glancing at him, his eyes are downcast as he runs a thumb over his knee. “But I don’t want to see someone die over one thing. There’s a lot to live for, a lot to strive for, that’s why I keep moving even after all my failures. If someone kills themselves for one thing, something I don’t see as a reason to end, I wonder if it was deeper than what it was on the surface. Was it a quick way to feel numb for a while? Was it an easy solution? Sometimes the easiest path isn’t the right one. Surviving an attempt makes you realize things can change, but what if you didn’t survive? If you regret putting the blade to your skin or stepping off the ledge seconds after you do it or seconds before death? You can’t change it once it’s in motion.”

“I never.. I never thought about it like that,” you mutter, your hands holding each other, fingers twiddling. A brief meeting with a handsome Alpha suddenly put things in perspective. A laugh breaks you from your trance, his mouth behind his hand.

“If I see an opportunity to help, I’ll be there, but the fact is I can’t change your mind. I would like to put things in perspective and give you options, but that’s all I can do. If the reason you’re planning to end it all is because you have no friends, I can help with that. I’ll be your friend when nobody else gives you a chance.”

You mull it over, thinking of your options. In the end, the worst that could happen is you end up back on the bench, in the rain, ready to match to your death. “You know, I was told that if it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is,” you mutter, but rifle through your jacket pockets for your phone. “Don’t make me regret second guessing myself, Oikawa Tōru. If you want to be my friend, I’ll take the hand extended to me,”

“Wonderful! And just in the nick of time, the bus is here,” he takes out his own phone, ready to swap numbers. As the bus pulls up to a stop, Oikawa waves at you as he pockets his phone, your contact information all piled inside. You really hope you don’t regret this decision, too.

In the few days that pass, you find yourself wondering how you could have possibly thought bad of Oikawa. He was sweet to you, introducing you to his friends (who knew about your predicament prior), with their promise they’d never turn their back. Iwaizumi was also an Alpha, but the other two were Betas. You did think it to be odd about how they seemed to willingly to help you, stay beside you, despite having no reason to. Their only reason was a promise to you. To Oikawa? Maybe, but you never asked him about it; if you did, he’d just shrug and give you a vague answer.

He promised to show you the light on a dark and gloomy evening, and he kept that promise. As your friends turned their backs on you, scoffing about how your decision will affect you for the rest of your life, Oikawa was there when you needed him the most. He was on standby all hours of the day and night, his phone always on and beside him. When your family turned you away, calling you out on your sudden friendship with another Alpha while carrying a child, they kicked you out and you had nowhere else to go, Oikawa was there. When you felt your world crumbling around you, feeling hopeless and desperate, picking up a secret stash of painkillers, Oikawa was there to talk to you. He didn’t actively take away the pills, but he sat on the other side of the door and talked to you, listened to you. Even his mom was there for you when your family and friends had left you, but Oikawa stood beside you through it all.

Then your world crumbled again.

“I’m planning on moving to Argentina,” he had said. You were looking into colleges to further your education when he had knocked on your door, his old sister’s room, sitting on the bed.

“You’re.. leaving?” You wanted to add to that sentence, but you didn’t want to seem clingy. He’s been with you for so much, you’re not entirely sure you can be independent without him.

“It’s been almost 6 months since you met me. I actually went on that run to decide if I wanted to study abroad in Argentina, but after meeting you, I decided to wait. I’ve been studying the language and keeping up with local volleyball communities, but my dream is over there,” he explains. You click your pen and set it down, ready to ask if you should leave his house, but he continues. “I wanted to know if you’d come with me.”

“Wh- What?”

“I’ve been putting in extra time so we can both move together, get a fresh start,” his face tints as he speaks, hand rubbing the back of his neck. “It seems a bit forward, now that I’m actually talking aloud about it. Sorry ‘bout that,” he chuckles, before clearing his throat.

“You want me.. to come with you?” You ask, unsure if you’re hearing correctly. He’s asking you to move to a new country with him, which is exciting! But, the baby.. “He is due soon, you know,”

“5 weeks, if I remember correctly,” he smiles, looking down at the large bump. You run a hand over it, solemnly nodding. “He’d be born in Argentina, our new home, if you come with me,”

“But Ushijima—”

“He’s abandoned you, officially. Your bond, it’s hardly noticeable anymore. The scent, I mean,” he corrects himself. “He’s basically just a sperm donor at this point,”

“This is.. very sudden, you know,”

“I know. And it’s also a very grand way of asking to court you, while also essentially marrying you, but I will say that if you choose to stay here, Iwa-chan will take care of you. He’s going to study in California for some amount of time, but that’s not for another few months. There is Mattsun and Makki, but I’m not too sure-”

“Okay, don’t stress yourself,” you giggle, getting him to stop. “I’ll go with you, but you gotta teach me the language,”

“I’ve been told I’m a great tutor, actually,”

“I believe it. Will the bond go away, or is it just the scent that’s gone?” He raises his brows at that.

“Ah, I guess you never took those classes. The bond is permanent, but another Alpha can lay claim on a mate that has been abandoned. I’d be honored to replace his bond with mine, but I’m sure you’ll need-”

“I’m ready,” you interrupt him. He sputters as he processes the words, but then smirks.

“Are you sure? I don’t plan on making mistakes, so you’ll be stuck with me, you know?”

“Tōru, I’ve been ready for a while now. Hope you don’t mind bonding me while I’m pregnant,” your hand once more rubs the large bump, settling on the top.

“It just means I’ll have to wait until it’s my turn to try,” he licks his lips, moving towards the door. The locking sound seals your fate, keeping others from interrupting your moment.

- Years Later

“Koichi, come back here!” you shout, weaving in between the crowds. Aiko is somehow still asleep on your shoulder as you chase your son through the crowd. He’s been dying to meet his favorite uncle for quite some time, so see as he’s the trainer for the Nationals team of Japan, Koichi ran once the match ended. A brief Q&A with the members of the team would happen exactly right after they left the stadium, which he knew because of his father’s position.

You finally come to a stop, grabbing Koichi’s collar as he struggles to get through the crowd. “I told you to not leave me, and what did you do? Uncle Iwa isn’t going to suddenly disappear. He’s been waiting for this day, too, you know?”

“But mama! I told him I’d be the first one!”

“That’s impossible. The paparazzi gets to him first, that’s how it works in Hollywood movies,” you joke, but you pick him up. You’re no professional athlete, but you do stay in shape to take care of two children. As soon as you pick him up, he’s shouting as he sees Iwaizumi, trying to talk to the reporters. He catches Koichi’s waving hand and decides to take a break, going towards where you are as the crowd parts.

“How is the Oikawa family doing? I see Koichi is energetic,” he laughs, taking the boy from your arms.

“Ugh, as always. Don’t know where he gets it from, it’s not like his sister is bursting with energy all day,” you gesture to the child sleeping, despite the loud crowd.

“Well, definitely Oikawa’s kid. He sleeps through anything and so does she, jeez,” he sighs, but you just laugh. A few members of his team come over, excited by the new people.

“Iwa-chan, what’s this? Wife? Your kids?? You have kids???” A man with white and black hair says, giving Koichi a high five.

“Uh, no. They’re actually Oikawa’s wife and kids. I’m the favorite uncle, of course,”

“I wanna be the uncle! ‘Samu is never gonna get married, I need to be an amazing uncle somehow,” a man with platinum blond hair says, but he’s quickly pushed aside as a familiar face comes into view.

A face you didn’t want to see.

“[Y/N], I didn’t expect to see you here,” Ushijima says, tone as flat as ever. Iwaizumi takes on a forced smile as yours drops, a frown etched on.

“Didn’t expect to see you here either. Actually, ever again,”

“Oh?” The owlish man says, eyebrows quirked up as his eyes glance between the two of you.

“I see you moved on. I’m glad to see that,”

“No thanks to you,” the venom in your voice has Koichi turning to him, looking at the larger man with large eyes. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see the resemblance. He’s got the same hair color and eyes as the man in front of you, taking hardly any features from you. Not to mention, Koichi is showing signs of presenting as an Alpha.

“Darling, that’s where you were!” Oikawa shouts from over the crowd, them parting so he can mingle with the group around you. “I was wondering where my personal cheerleaders went to,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His eyes meet Ushijima’s and despite being unable to smell the tension, you can feel it. Reporters and guests alike back away as the overwhelming tension of two Alphas clash.

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says. Oikawa just tilts his head, looking over his opponent.

“I thought you’d look more defeated after I wiped the court with your ass, but I’m more disappointed in that. Emotionless as ever, aren’t you, Ushiwaka?”

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he says, then looks to you. “I’ve been meaning to say something to you, [Y/N],”

“Trust me, I don’t want to hear it. You’re too late, Wakatoshi. You’re much too late,” you say, before nodding at Iwaizumi. “I’m leaving,”

Despite turning to leave, Oikawa taking Koichi away from his uncle and new “uncles”, despite being in the middle of a loud crowd, you can hear him. It’s quiet, almost as if he knows the words are weightless, holding nothing after years of his abandonment. Despite Oikawa’s bond pulsing, your heart still yearns for the other man, what he could have given you and what he did to you. Despite all this, you’ve fantasized about hearing those words, yet they do nothing.

“I’m sorry.”

Author’s Note: I’m sorry this took forever to publish but I hope it was worth the wait! I didn’t keep track of time while writing this, so if something seems wrong just ignore it. I might come back and fix it later but probably not lol ; Argentina residency rules and citizenship requirements were not consulted for this, seeing as it only took up like one sentence, but I might change it if I look more into it of course.

[writerofthecourt]

reciprocal

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x reader

summary: for the past few days, the injuries on sakusa’s body couldn’t just be attributed to his soulmate’s clumsiness anymore. it was up to him to figure out the truth of the matter

warning: some references to bullying, some blood and injury

a/n: if this story seems familiar to anyone, it’s because i had a quotev account back in the day that used this same premise with different haikyuu character

Bruises and scrapes were a common sight that littered Sakusa’s body. With a soulmate such as yourself, it was no surprise to anyone that Itachiyama’s ace was usually painted black and blue from his injuries.

Soulmate bonds were both a blessing and a curse. To be so intimately connected to someone to the point of sharing and manifesting their pain was the tragic beauty of having a soulmate. Some people found this to be romantic, while others found it to be a liability. For Sakusa, it was more of a nuisance than anything, considering your unique ability to be so undeniably clumsy.

For the past few days, the injuries on Sakusa’s body were becoming much more frequent and annoying, especially since they were starting to become a hindrance during volleyball practice. When he had asked you about this issue, you had just smiled and pretended to be clueless. His worrying only lessened once you had repeatedly assured him that you were fine and sent him off to practice with a peck on the cheek.

Of course, everything would have been fine if it wasn’t for the pain now igniting from his right shoulder. The pain was so great that Sakusa felt his knees hit the floor, his hand clutching the spot where the pain was radiating from. Practice immediately halted as his teammates gathered around in worry.

Komori was the first one to reach him as he kneeled next to the ace. “Are you all right, Sakusa?”

“I’m fine,” Sakusa managed to say, though that was a complete lie. His shoulder felt like it had been set ablaze, and the wince on his face wasn’t convincing anyone.

“Maybe you should sit out for the rest of practice, Sakusa,” Iizuna calmly suggested.

“I said I’m fine. Let’s just get back to practice.”

Reaching out for Komori’s hand, Sakusa hoisted himself back to his feet and returned to his place on the court. Soon enough, everyone else began to follow his lead.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Sakusa heard his captain mumble.

“[Y/N]-chan probably fell or something,” Komori tried to rationalize before noticing the confused look on Iizuna’s face. “Oh, [Y/N]-chan is Sakusa’s soulmate, and she’s super clumsy. Don’t worry, this is normal for them…I think.”

“If you say so…but make sure Sakusa checks up on his soulmate. Just in case.”

Sakusa couldn’t help but scoff as he tuned out the rest of Komori and Iizuna’s conversation. He didn’t need to be told to check up on you, he was already planning to have a ‘little’ talk with you sometime tomorrow, and he was expecting answers.

Returning his attention back to practice, Sakusa tried to focus on his spikes and not the wave of concern that washed over him when his mind drifted off to the thought of you.

At the beginning of lunch the very next day, Sakusa promptly left his seat and made his way down the hall to your classroom. Loudly sliding the door open, a few students jumped in surprise and fear as Sakusa glared into the room, searching for his target. Spotting you at your desk, he quickly marched in and took a hold of your wrist, dragging you away to a remote corner of the hallway.

“Kiyoomi, you’re hurting me!” you said as he trapped you against the wall. Realizing that the pain was beginning to manifest on his own wrist, Sakusa immediately let go of your arm, but his glare stayed ever present.

“What happened?” he demanded more than asked.

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

Not wanting to play this game, Sakusa brought up his hands and started to undo the first few buttons of your uniform top without a single word.

“Kiyoomi!” you whispered indignantly as your face began to heat up in embarrassment.

Ignoring your protests, Sakusa pulled the sleeve of your shirt down to reveal your right shoulder. His eyes widened in shock before anger overtook his pretty features. Your skin, once beautiful and perfect, was now decorated with a dark purple bruise. He had seen the same discolouration on his own shoulder earlier that morning when he was getting dressed, but he didn’t want to believe it.

He raised a hand to gently brush his fingers against the injury, but he immediately retreated once he saw your face contort in slight pain.

“I guess there was really no point in trying to hide it, huh?” he heard you say.

“What happened?” Sakusa repeated in a lighter tone this time, now looking at you with gentle concern.

Sakusa saw something spiral within your eyes before you diverted your gaze, suddenly finding the floor to be much more interesting. He lowered his hand and laced his fingers with yours. If not for the current situation, he would have mused about how perfectly your hand seemed to fit in his.

“[Y/N], tell me what happened.”

“I-I bumped my shoulder against a shelf while cleaning up my room yesterday,” you mumbled as you started to play with your sleeves, a habit of yours whenever you lied.

“You don’t get a bruise this big just by bumping into something,” he reasoned with a frown.

“It just happened, okay?” you snapped quickly.

“I don’t see why you just won’t tell me!” Sakusa retorted angrily, now matching your tone. “You’re supposed to-”

“Kiyoomi!” you shouted, and Sakusa felt himself slightly taken aback with shock. “Just trust me, okay? I can handle this myself. I don’t want to keep relying on you for everything, so just trust me!”

“…Fine,” Sakusa conceded after a moment of silence.

Feeling agitated and defeated, Sakusa backed away from the wall before letting out a frustrated sigh. As he began to walk away, he suddenly felt something knock itself into his back. Your arms locked around his stomach as you leaned your head against his back.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you for trusting me, Kiyoomi.”

Turning around to give you a proper hug, Sakusa securely wrapped his arms around your waist and rested his chin on top of your head, not at all minding the possible germs that came from this interaction. You were always worth it.

“You really are a lot of trouble, you know that?” Sakusa sighed while rubbing circles on the small of your back.

“I love you too,” you giggled.

Using the tip of your toes to reach him, you pulled down Sakusa’s mask and gave your soulmate a quick farewell kiss. After fixing his mask and your shirt, you sent Sakusa a small smile and wave before walking off to class. On the way back to his own classroom, Sakusa couldn’t help but wonder if he had made the right decision.

“No,” Sakusa tried to convince himself. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

Sakusa hated days when you had cleaning duties. It meant that you couldn’t walk with him to practice. His schedule was always busy, so Sakusa tried to spend as much time with you as possible, even if it was something as simple as holding your hand while walking to volleyball practice.

“And then he said, ‘What will you have after 500 years?’ And Mark was like—you aren’t even listening to me, are you?” Komori asked with an exasperated sigh, finally noticing that Sakusa’s attention was elsewhere.

“I can’t find my math notebook,” Sakusa replied plainly, still focused on rifling through his bag.

Komori paused for a moment before snapping his fingers in realization. “Didn’t you lend it to [Y/N]-chan at lunch today?”

Sakusa’s eyes lifted from his bag when he realized he had lent you his notebook. It wasn’t in his character to let anyone borrow his belongings, so whenever he did lend you something, it usually escaped his memory.

Sakusa muttered a low curse. “I’ll be back in five minutes.”

Komori only grinned in amusement before walking off to the gym on his own. “All right, I’ll see you soon.”

Nodding his head, Sakusa turned back towards the school. If he had to guess, you would have to be done cleaning up the classroom by now, meaning that he’d have to hurry if he wanted to catch you in time.

Hurrying down the halls and up the stairs, Sakusa soon found himself turning the corner that led towards the second year classrooms. Although there was no one in sight, Sakusa picked up on the quiet murmur of some voices, along with girls’ laughter. He thought nothing of it until a large crash captured his attention, and everything turned dead silent. At that moment, Sakusa felt the air being knocked out of his lungs as pain jolted throughout his body, and he almost staggered off his feet to the ground.

That could only mean one thing.

Running to the classroom, Sakusa saw a sight that had his blood boiling like never before, and he felt his mind go numb. He didn’t even notice how his nails were slightly drawing blood, as he only felt rage at that moment.

You were lying on the floor, blood pouring from the cut on your head that you had probably received from being pushed against the desks. Three girls surrounded your unconscious body, looking around frantically and panicking at the turn of events.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Sakusa managed to shout out.

“S-Sakusa-san!” one of the girls jumped. “W-we were just playing around, honestly! We never meant for this to happen!”

“I’m not in the mood for your excuses,” he said before his expression turned dark. “Leave, now.”

In an instance, the girls were gone, shivering in fright as they ran off. Sakusa felt himself calm down a bit after releasing a shaky breath, but he soon felt his rage reignite when he saw that the wound on your head was still bleeding profusely.

Kneeling next to your body, Sakusa hoisted you up and began his trip to the nurse’s office. In the middle of his maneuvering, you had quietly woken up and reached for his forehead where blood was spilling from the same wound.

“Kiyoomi, you’re bleeding…”

“And why do you think that is?!” Sakusa snapped at the mention of your matching wounds.

Ignoring his comment, you chose to ask where you were going.

“The nurse’s office to fix your idiotic mistake,” he replied harshly.

After arriving at the office, the nurse gave you and Sakusa a questioning look, but she said nothing as she swiftly wrapped and bandaged your injuries. She soon left for a faculty meeting, leaving you at the mercy of a very angry soulmate.

You sat against the headboard of the office’s medical bed, while Sakusa stood across from you with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. His mask was no longer present, having been abandoned, as it had been contaminated by the blood of his injury.

“So,” you began. “Lovely weather we’re having…”

“That’s not funny, [Y/N]. Now, start explaining.”

“All right, all right,” you sighed. “I guess it started a few days ago. At first, they were small favours, like buying them a few drinks. Then the favours became more demanding…I tried to tell them today that I wasn’t going to be their little servant anymore, but you know how that turned out…”

“So the bruise…?” Sakusa asked inquisitively.

“Yes, it was them,” you answered quietly.

You said nothing as Sakusa continued to frown before he eventually asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” you started. “I knew that you would worry. You’re already so busy with school and volleyball, I didn’t want to add to your list of worries…”

“…You really are an idiot,” Sakusa mumbled before running a hand through his hair. He soon moved to sit next to you on the bed and took a hold of your hands in his. “I’m only going to say this once, so you better listen carefully. We’re soulmates for a reason. We’re supposed to be there for each other. Whenever you have a problem, we’re supposed to solve it together.

“I know that I don’t always act like it, but I care about you, a lot. So just like how I can trust you, you need to know that it’s all right to trust me. You can always depend on me to be there for you.”

When he was done with his rant, Sakusa felt his cheeks lightly flush red as he saw your blank expression. He hoped that he didn’t say too much.

“All right, Kiyoomi,” you finally said, a smile beginning to appear on your face. “No more secrets.”

Smirking in approval, Sakusa leaned in and lifted a hand to tilt your pretty face so that you were staring directly into his eyes. His voice was low and seductive as his thumb lightly brushed against the corner of your mouth.

“Good. Because the next time you keep a secret from me, I’m going to have to punish you.”

[nobodylivesson]

Hi!! How are you doing? I hope you're fine with the pandemic going around, so I want to request Jin-woo x fem reader, where reader is a guardian spirit in a dagger he got from clearing the demon castle and she's attached to Jin-woo now cuz he's really strong? It's fine if you don't want to 🤗 anyways remember to drink water😘

The Silver Dagger

Fandom : Solo Leveling

Paring : Sung Jin-woo x Guardian Spirit! GN reader

Requested? Yes

»»————>❃<————««

Jin-woo huffed a little as he examined his now red-stained clothes

“Ah it has become such a mess but they weren’t matching my size recently. Guess have to buy new clothes soon” Jin-woo thinks as his eyes look at the bodies of Hwang Dong-Suk and his companions

“The association won’t let this slide, have to come up with an excuse and also have to make Jin-ho quiet about this” Jin-woo thought eyeing the orange hair guy who seemed to be puking from the look of the bodies

Jin-woo and Jin-ho eyes meet for a slip second causing Jin-ho to puke more while Jin-woo sighed

Suddenly something silver caught Jin-woo’s eyes and tilted his head to see a dagger at the corner of the dungeon. After walking close to it he could finally see how the dagger looked

The dagger was a mix of silver and black, with the handle having a very beautiful carving of a person dancing and a person standing at the tip of the dagger’s cover. The whole thing was made of fine metal which was intact without any scratches or marks

“A dagger? It doesn’t seem like a drop so what is it doing here? And it seems to be in very good condition….Was it one of those guys? Hmmm…..” Jin-woo wonder after he picked up the dagger

But he couldn’t ponder much as the dungeon started to shake making him snap his head towards the ceiling

“The boss has been defeated so it means the dungeon is going to close soon. Let’s get out of here” Jin-woo says towards Jin-ho who just meekly nods before getting ready to leave

Not thinking much Jin-woo decided to take the dagger with him and inspect it at home since leaving such a good looking dagger here would be a waste

But it seems this decision of Jin-woo is going to give him much more than what he would have thought

»»————>❃<————««

Jin-woo looked at the dagger at his hand with raised brows as it doesn’t seem to enter storage and Jin-woo had to wrap it at a cloth provided by Jin-ho before bringing it in his hoodie’s pocket

The more Jin-woo examined the dagger the more his curiosity grew and new questions raised

“Where did this dagger popped out of? Was it really from one of the guys from the dungeons? If so, then why didn’t they used this against him during the fight? Why wasn’t Jin-woo able to put the dagger in the storage if this dagger was a part of the system?”

Jin-woo just sighed and plopped down on his bed as his hands moved from the top of the dagger to the bottom when he realized he hadn’t taken the blade out of its cover

So bringing his right hand to the handle, Jin-woo tried to pull it but was surprised it didn’t come out

Yet he still shrugged it off and now with much more strength tried to pull it again which much to his relief finally came out

The blade was shinning as if it was made just a few moments before Jin-woo found it and when he brought it close to his face, the blade reflected his face as clear as day

“Well no matter how weird and mysterious, I can’t leave a good thing behind so I guess I can use it in my next raid” Jin-woo thinks and tilts his head when for a second he thought he saw something appear on the blade

Jin-woo jerks himself straight and examines the blade carefully but as one expected nothing was there

“Am I tired and hallucinating things? Well today was an eventful day, guess I would be sleeping early today” Jin-woo mumbles while massaging his eyes

A sudden knock to his door made Jin-woo stop what he was doing and immediately put the dagger at the table before covering it with the cloth he brought it in

When he looked at the door again, Jin-woo saw Jin-ah was peaking through the door

“A guy named Jin-ho has called and asked for you” Jin-ah says to which Jin-woo nodded before saying “Understood, I’m coming” as he started to walk towards the door

Suddenly Jin-ah screamed causing Jin-woo to quickly look at her to see his little sister looking at something behind him with utter shock

Jin-woo turned around in time to see a shape forming which with each passing second seem to turn more and more into a person

And in 1 minute, a person appeared in Jin-woo’s room out of nowhere who looked like a foreigner and was wearing clothes that looked like were of the medieval time?

But Jin-woo realized that the appearance wasn’t important now and in an instant Jin-woo was standing in a defensive position before Jin-ah

“Who are you and how did you enter my room?!” Jin-woo cautiously spoke with a straight face and cursed inside that there was no weapon in his hand at the moment

Jin-woo didn’t know what kind of a being this person was they just appeared out of nowhere. So a tense atmosphere spread across the room as stayed behind Jin-woo and gripped his cloth in fear at what might happen while Jin-woo thought of what he can do to make sure Jin-ah got out of there safely if the situation got messy

But all the tension broke down when the intruder suddenly smiled before saying “Hey, hey, you don’t need to be so cautious I’m not dangerous and it’s you who brought me here” while pointing at Jin-woo

“What?” Jin-woo says when he feels a stare towards him making him look down to see Jin-ah looking at him with questioning yet suspicious eyes

“Hey, you saw him appear out of thin air so how could I have brought him?!” Jin-woo says in panic as if everyone has turned against him to which Jin-ah says “I don’t know what you hunters can do so….suspicious” causing Jin-woo to shout “HUH?!”

This caused the intruder to laugh before they in a cheery voice said “What I meant was you’re the one who brought this dagger, so it’s you who brought me in the house cause I live inside the dagger”

A silence fell between all three of them before Jin-ah and Jin-woo shouted “Eh?EHHHHHH?!”

»»————>❃<————««

“Well let me introduce myself, I’m [Y/N] [L/N] and I have been trapped in this dagger for more than 100,000 years due to some kind of curse. But I guess I can also be called a ‘Guardian Spirit’ of the dagger” the intruder or [Y/N] says cheerily as they sat in seize-style

While Jin-ah and Jin-woo who was sitting opposite to them on the sofa were intrigued and baffled respectively

“How do you expect us to believe you like that?” Jin-woo says with a frown to which [Y/N] chuckles before saying “Yes, believe or trust isn’t something that could be gained just by a mere talk and we need evidence to prove it. But unfortunately, I don’t have the means to prove myself trustworthy yet maybe if you heard my story then I can gain some of your trust?”

“Story doesn’t give anyone the right to be trusted” Jin-woo says his face becoming serious now with a cold gaze to which [Y/N] without even being fazed says “But I want you to believe me” while tilting his head to the side, happiness shining in his eyes

Jin-woo gets taken back and blushes a little because [Y/N] look kind of cute so he brings his left hand to cover his face

Jin-ah who has been nervously watching all this jumps at the chance and says “Hyung, let’s listen to what they have to say. I don’t think someone bad would say they can’t be trusted and then ask us to trust them with a story”

Jin-woo wasn’t convinced but a tiny part of him wanted to know about this person called [Y/N] who appeared out of nowhere and now was sitting in front of him with a smile

“Okay” Jin-woo says with a sigh causing [Y/N]’s face to relax a little, a nostalgic look now replacing his smiling face as he says “This is the first time I ever told anyone…….I was from the [C/C] but I was orphaned and I was owned by a wealthy merchant. I knew my fate was to be sold to some people long enough but then one day he arrived, my master. He was a scholar from South Korea who had come to [C/C] for some work and saw me being displayed by my owner. I still don’t know why he did it but he brought me that day and took me along with him back to South Korea. I thought he only brought me so I can do work for him but he taught me how to read, write, cook, and skills to live. My master was someone who saved me and gave meaning to my life, so I decided I would for the rest of my life serve my master. But then one day at night, my master took me and brought me to a cliff before thrusting that dagger into my hand. He said ‘Please live on and forgive me’ before pushing me down the cliff. I don’t know what happened after that as I was enveloped in bright light but then I woke in a dark place. Over years I realized I somehow got imprisoned inside the sword, would never age again, survive any kind of disaster, and my master long dead. I wasn’t able to draw out of my cover by anyone and was constantly sold. So that’s how I moved from different parts of the country and saw all this from inside the sword. But then you came and drew it out, being able to give me the opportunity to at least come out. I don’t know how he was able to do it and I don’t know why he did it but I have long accepted I won’t ever get answers to these questions. Well, that’s my story.”

It was a long story and [Y/N] was already past the age of grieve, learned to go over it with passing time. Their personality and the things taught by their master was what kept them true to themself

When [Y/N] was amused to see Jin-woo looking skeptical and Jin-ah looking like she is going to break into tears any moment

“I think that-” Jin-woo started by Jin-ah interrupted him by saying “It’s very sad that it happened with you,[Y/N]!! If you’re the guardian spirit then do you take care of the dagger as well?” making [Y/N] laugh a little before saying “I’m fine, Jin-ah. It’s been a long time and I’m very happy that I could come of the sword in my physical form after so many years. And yes! It’s because of me living inside it that the dagger is so shinny and sharp even after so many years”

Jin-woo sighs and says “Jin-ah don’t we need to make sure he is telling the truth?” to which Jin-ah huffs before saying “Hyung, you don’t need to be cruel. I have been observing [Y/N] since the time they came out and they don’t look like someone who wants to harm!!”

Jin-woo sighs even louder before saying “Just because they look innocent doesn’t mean that they would be innocent and why are you so adamant that this person isn’t a bad person?!” to which [Y/N] quietly adds “Well one more thing I forgot to add is that I can’t do much except getting out of the dagger in a physical form and make sure it’s always in a great form. Also to come out I need to be very near the dagger or else I would be forced again inside the dagger, it seems. So you can have control over what I can do” while showing how taking the dagger away from them starts to make them fade slowly

“We can’t be a bad person to someone who looks very happy to be finally being able to come outside. And if [Y/N] can’t do much in this form of their then it’s not a problem right?? If you still have doubts keep [Y/N] with you for few days and take them around Seoul so you can see if they are telling the truth! Won’t you do that hyung??” Jin-ah says while giving puppy eyes

[Y/N] suddenly perked up when they heard this and looked at Jin-woo with shining eyes before asking him “You would do that for me???” happiness radiantly from them

Jin-woo moves back a little with an unbelievable look as his little sister and [Y/N] bring their faces close to much

“Okay okay fine! I would do that!” Jin-woo says while covering his face out of frustration in a tired face as his sister cuteness along with [Y/N]’s cute eyes were too much for him

Jin-ah and [Y/N] jump around the room in victory, the dagger still in [Y/N]’s hand as they talked about what [Y/N] can look at around Seoul

Jin-woo eyes the dagger before it travels to [Y/N] face which he finally has to admit is very cute

Even if he wasn’t sure about [Y/N] he can’t just dismiss after looking at [Y/N] through this whole ordeal that they are indeed very cute not only face wise

A blush rose to his face at what he was thinking before he sighed and rested his face in his palms before thinking “What have I gotten myself into??”

»»————>❃<————««

Hello everyone this is my first ever request and I'm so happy that I'm finally done with it!! Thank you for re-reading my rules and changing your request as well! I didn't wanted to miss the chance to write for Jin-woo as my first request. I don't know how it is and if it matched what the requester wanted to miss writing this me to write(I hope so for even a little bit it did) Anyway if you want a re-written version of the request you can drop by in my ask box, I won't mind!! Also in a few days, I would be done with the other request as well so stay tuned!

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  8.4; Lantern Rite 3

X-Xiao...kissed me...?  You still couldn't wrap your head around what just happened, even after he seemed to move on from the topic and sit back down on the viewing rock, his eyes casting a wonderous gaze at the lights that floated above the two of you.  You were unaware that his and your eyes had flashed their signature glow when he placed a kiss between your brows, signaling the official sealing of your bond with the adeptus.

So it's sealed, Xiao made the conscious effort to keep his eyes on the lanterns while he thought to himself.  Her pain should subside now.  He could still hear the faint bustling of Liyue Harbor to the right of the cliff, and his lips twitched into a miniscule frown for a split second.  I won't be able to hear her play music anymore.  His gaze flit to you, still recuperating from his touch and a deep shade of crimson.

"Aren't you going to sit?"  His words sliced through the silent air much like his blade.  

"U-uh, yes!"  You squeaked, putting a bit of space between your bodies in the process, mostly because of embarrassment.  "So, um...the lanterns...do you like them?"  Your fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

"They...are not half-bad," he begrudgingly admitted.  When you sent him a glance, you noted the pink that painted the tips of his ears as he avoided looking your way.  

"I'm glad I got to see you today," you smiled and returned your gaze to the sky.  A comfortable silence befell you two, while the crickets began to sing and the fireflies assisted in lighting the hill alongside the lanterns.  It was peaceful.  Even after the lights of the lanterns dimmed and could no longer be seen in the air, the two of you sat overlooking the harbor.  

"When will you be leaving?"

"At the end of the week, at the latest.  We might be leaving tomorrow--er, I guess it's technically today now--but Childe hasn't said anything yet."  You caught a glimpse of what you assumed to be dejection in his eyes, and tussled his hair.

"What are you doing? I'm not a child," he dodged you before your hand could mess his hair up even more.  His eyes narrowed at you with suspicion, not quite knowing what you were getting at.

"You looked sad, so I thought I should cheer you up," you answered cheekily, much to his bemusement.

"I do not understand how patronizing me is supposed to 'cheer' me up," he watched your hand come up and run through his hair much gentler this time.

"I'd rather get you to banter with me than look like that."  You had thought he would pull away again, but much to your surprise he held still--and even seemed to lean in slightly as if he enjoyed the gesture.  "Can I play with your hair, Xiao?"

"Why bother asking when you're already doing it?" He half-complained before getting up and sitting in front of you so his back leaned against your shins and his head lay onto the spots above your knees.  He made a show of false disinterest as per usual, but he ended his little charade with a slim smile as he looked up at your embarrassed expression.

He's never been this open, you struggled to comprehend his gestures while your hands re-embedded themselves in his locks.  I’m blessed to see his smile.  He watched you closely, observing the small waves of happiness, excitement, shock and embarrassment wash over your face.  He observed the gentle nature in your eyes, and the content smile you'd return to him when you occasionally worked up the courage to meet his gaze halfway.  

Eventually, you felt his shoulders relax and he allowed himself to put his full weight against you, his eyes hesitantly fluttering closed soon after.  If a kiss to the eyelids was a sign of placing trust in one another, this had to be the ultimate display of trust coming from the adeptus.  He never slept when you were adventuring with Aether--or at least, you never caught him batting an eye.  Always said something like 'You have no respect for the ways of the adepti,' or 'Sleep is for mortals.'

And yet here you were, stuck between him and the rock you sat on, as his breathing turned slow and shallow, his face relaxing to that of a rare vulnerability of a long-lost innocence both of you thought he no longer had.  It was clear he reveled in your touch as you traced circles along his scalp and lulled him to sleep with the soft familiar hum of your moonsong.  Even after the lights of the stars were the only ones illuminating your dark surroundings, you continued to hold him.

The yaksha's dreams were light and fleeting, much like his natural agility in combat.  Dreaming was rare, but when it happened, it seldom excluded the voices of bygone gods and wraiths.  What was once an image of the human he came to love was now a void of indescribable darkness that loomed ever closer to his restrained soul.  Threats of instilling terror, misfortune, and death upon you reached his ears, and the tension around his chest tightened until he found it difficult to breathe.  

When he felt like he was drowning, being swallowed by the fear of losing you, hurting you, causing you pain--

You felt Xiao tense against you and peered down at him to find his eyebrows furrowed together and the corner of his lips twitching.  Is he having a nightmare?  You observed him for a moment, nearly jumping out of your skin when he--quite literally--began to growl much like an agitated animal.  His eyes were still squeezed shut, albeit tighter than before, and his nails dug themselves into his skin like he was struggling to ground himself.  The feral look on his face made your jaw tighten.

Once you recovered from having the daylights scared out of you, one of your hands left his hair and traced his temple in a circular motion.  "It's okay, I'm here."

Xiao jolted awake, one of his hands shooting up to grab your wrist in a tight grip as if he had thought he was about to be attacked.  His eyelids flew open just as quickly, his breathing an unsteady pant and his blurry vision finally coming to focus on the shadow of the concerned human that loomed over his body.  His grip loosened when he realized it was you, and his thumb rubbed the spot where his nails had broken skin with a guilty look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?"  He had moved so quickly, you weren't even aware that he had scratched you.  You rotated your hand so that you could hold his, giving him a reassuring smile when he squeezed back.  His gaze hardened as he lifted his head and broke eye contact.

"It was nothing." He was wide awake now, not being able to bear another one of those stupid dreams.  He didn't need that right now; he just wanted to bask in your presence and forget about his worries.  But that intense fear of his selfishness bringing harm to you loomed at the back of his mind as he glanced over to you.

Can I really indulge in such humanistic behaviors and put you in danger?  

"Xiao?  What's wrong?"  There was that look again; it wasn't his usual indifferent expression, but one that revealed a heavy burden of anxiety in the depths of his pupils.

Can I allow myself to be vulnerable with you, without a guilty conscience?  Zhongli even said himself that you would be in danger of his karma even after the bond is sealed...So why did he do it?  Why did he admit his feelings while knowing it would cause you pain in the long run?  Did human emotions cause him to think irrationally and make a brash decision?  Is that what they do?

"...Xiao?"

"Rise."  The adeptus swallowed the heavy lump in his throat and wrapped an arm around you until the surrounding world warped unsteadily.  The feeling nearly made you vomit, but just as quickly as the world spun, it stopped and your feet were on steady ground again.  

"Huh?"  You caught your bearings and took a moment to recognize your surroundings.  The two of you were in a small bedroom, with the moonlight falling through the window.  "Is this Wangshu Inn?  I-I can't...Childe said I can't be here--"

"Humans need sleep to function properly.  You can't sleep outside."  He shot you a stern look when you opened your mouth to protest further, and you couldn't help but think he was trying to push you away again.

This time, he was doing it a bit differently.  

"Where will you sleep?"  You gestured around the small room that had only one bed.

"I have business to attend to.  I'll be back by sunrise."

You took a deep breath and took the plunge.  "You can't run away from your fears, Xiao."  The yaksha froze, one of his eyebrows twitching in response.  "That's what you're doing right now, isn't it?"

"Mortals do not understand the burdens adepti--"  A raised brow got the words stuck in his throat.  The bond is sealed, is it not?  How can she see right through me?

"I asked you to trust me, Xiao.  Don't burden yourself so much.  I can take some of the weight off your shoulders; all you have to do is let me."

A human helping an adeptus with his burden? It shouldn't be that way.  What could you even do for me?  The weight on my shoulders would crush you.  He wanted to mutter the words, but it was clear they would fall on deaf ears at the moment.  He desperately wanted to disappear from the room for your own protection against his karmic debt, and he would've, but...I don't want to leave just yet.

The yaksha positioned himself so that he leaned against the door while you got under the fluffy covers that lay on the bed.  It had to be two in the morning by now, surely, your human mind must be exhausted.  He could go without sleep after that awful dream earlier...

"Xiao?"  Your half-whisper travelled through the dark room.  "Can you, um...Will you...Could you maybe lay next to me?"

It took a moment for your words to be processed.  Join her in bed?  Why?  "I'm naturally inclined to stand watch.  Go to sleep." A meek and disappointed 'okay' from the bed drew a reluctant sigh from his lips, but you had already drifted off.  It didn’t take long for the air in the room to grow unusually cold, and the familiar groans accompanying your nightmares to be heard.

................

"I won't let you take him!"  Your cry dropped the temperature of the throne room below zero, and your captor laughed at the pitiful display of power.  Despite your show of bravado, you were trembling before her.

"I know what you've been thinking," the archon's lips spread into a thin, daring smile.  "Heed my words, Mezzetin, you are still and always will be under my control."  The amusement didn't reach her eyes.

"Stay away!"  A warning shot of solid ice grazed the Tsaritsa's cheek, to which her eyes narrowed after recovering from what you assumed was shock.  Shock that you actually touched her.  "If you dare to touch him, I'll--"

"You'll what?"  She tested with a raised brow, motioning for Scaramouche to bring out the messy gift of a bloodied, unconscious--or dead--yaksha.  He threw him at your feet.

"No!"

Your eyelids shot open, nose inhaling a deep, slow breath when your consciousness returned to the room in Wangshu Inn.  Light flooded through the windows and illuminated your surroundings, and you could hear the local wildlife singing in the tree branches directly outside the window.

It seems like you also had an unconscious fear eating away at you, just like Xiao.  But something about that nightmare was off...why did she look at you like that?  The shock on her face...Was that your unconscious view of her, or was it something more?  Surely she couldn't have actually been in your dream.  The mere idea of it sent a chill down your spine.

And what was with this qingxin flower-scented pillow? It was nice and toasty, and--Oh my gods, why is it moving?!

"X-Xiao?!"  Your gaze dropped to your arms, which were wrapped tightly around his abdomen.  Your head shot up only to hit his lower jaw, drawing groans from both of you.  I'm cuddling him?! What the hell?!

"You wanted me here," he muttered shyly while rubbing the spot you had just collided with.  "You weren't sleeping well."

"But...But I thought you declined!"  Despite your obvious distress, your grip around him didn't loosen, and he didn't make it a goal to move, either.  He tensed when you returned to your original spot with your face buried at the crook of his neck.  Your disturbing dream was long-forgotten now that you had this to worry about.

"You're telling me you don't remember dragging me under the covers?"

"EH?!"  Your face burned hot with embarrassment and you raised your head to look at him in horror.  This time, your grip around him loosened.  I sleep walk?  I don’t remember ever having that habit.  What else have I done?!  "Did I really do that?"

"Hmph."  The slightest twitch at the corner of his lips.  He was laughing at you.  Foolish.  Of course you didn't.

"You're so mean!" You gawked and reburied your face once you caught onto his amusement, his arm hesitantly slinking across you in response.  You'd never been so close to him before.  It was difficult to calm yourself from being so up-close and personal with him so early in the morning; the way his toned stomach rose and fell as he breathed, his breath tickling your ear; how muscular his arm felt on top of you...Ooooh, this was too much to deal with after just waking up--Archons, what're you even thinking this early in the morning?!

Xiao thought it was odd how often your ears turned a bright shade of red, but he never brought it up.  He had a feeling if he pointed it out you would just turn a deeper shade and evade giving a straight answer.  Maybe Zhongli or Aether could help him understand this weird human display...

...................

"Good morning, Zhongli! Aether! Paimon!"  Your excited wave to the trio grabbed their attention as they walked through the main street of Liyue.  "Sorry about, er, running away last night!"  

"You're looking better," Paimon commented while a relieved Aether returned your greeting.  "What's got your spirit up?"

"Hm?"  Your fingers twitched.  "Oh, uh, well..."  You looked to Xiao for an easy getaway.  "I found him, so..."

"I found you," the adeptus corrected, arms crossing across his chest as he avoided your gaze.  

"Did you see the Mingxiao lantern?  It exploded! It was so cool!"  When you shook your head 'no,' Aether busily filled you in with graphic details of the largest plaustrite lantern in twenty years.

Xiao's avoiding eye contact, and you are brimming with happiness while sneaking glances at him...Zhongli observed you two extra carefully, taking note of every minute movement you were making.  I see.  The bond may or may not have sealed, but I am almost certain another event came to pass last night.  These are the symptoms humans call 'afterglow,' are they not?

Zhongli cleared his throat and interrupted the animated conversation.  "It is not a Liyue specialty, but why don't I treat you all to a meal of red bean rice?"

"Red bean rice? What's that?"  Aether scrunched his eyebrows together when he didn’t recognize the name of the dish.  It was a given he would be the one to pay for it all, so he was conditioned into automatically accepting the matter.  It no longer surprised him that Zhongli would offer to pay despite lacking mora.

"Oh! Paimon knows this one!" The floating mascot hurriedly whirled around with stars in her eyes at the thought of food.  "It's traditionally an Inazuman dish, but it is served on special occasions like weddings, birthdays, and--"

"What's the occasion?" It was your turn to send Zhongli a quizzical look, but Xiao looked disinterested in the conversation.  "I don't remember any of our birthdays coming up, and we definitely don't have any weddings, either."

Zhongli thought it was the most obvious thing in the world, and he faced you with a straight expression.  "In honor of your consummation, of course."

"WHAT?!"  You nearly choked on nothing, while Aether and Paimon's jaws practically dropped to the floor.  Today's morning air seemed to heat up quite a bit, aha...

"W-wait, Zhongli! You can't just blurt that out!" Paimon frantically waved her hands out in front of her.  "People don't talk about that in public! It's inappro--"

"Wow, um," Aether awkwardly scratched the back of his head and released a nervous laugh.  "This isn't really something I thought I'd have to hear about."  He shyly averted his eyes to avoid your flabbergasted gawking.

"Wait! That's not...That didn't...!"  You failed to blurt the words out as your cheeks heated up more and more.  Oh boy, it was getting especially hot in the sun, wasn't it?  "We didn't!"  Your head whipped to Xiao, and you urged him on.  "Say something!"

"I-is this true, Xiao?"  Despite Aether's awkwardness, it was clear as day that he and Paimon just had to have confirmation to quell their disbelief and recover from the shock of Zhongli's bluntness.  "Did you guys...?"

"We slept together, yes."

"XIAO!"  Your shriek of horror caught the attention and annoyance of the strangers walking past the group as they were cleaning up from the Lantern Rite.  Feeling all eyes on you, your shrunk in on yourself, face burning with even more embarrassment.  The way he said it! Without so much as a smidge of hesitation!  This humiliation was too much; honestly, you’d prefer if you could crawl into a hole and hide right now.  "He didn't mean it like that!" You whisper-yelled at the trio, who all held smug, knowing expressions that weren’t too far off from that Albedo-fellow you met.  "Will you stop?! We just slept next to each other, that's it! I swear!"  You sent a slight glare in Xiao's direction.

"Oh-ho?" The all-too familiar sneer of a harbinger brought you a small sense of relief now that the attention shifted away from you.  "That's it, ojou-chan?"  Childe's cocky grin prompted you to roll your eyes.  Finally, some color's returned to your cheeks.  And that constant grimace of pain is absent, too...So their bond must be sealed; her Majesty will be pleased.

"Stay away from her!  Aether!"  Paimon gestured for the boy to pull his sword, and he did.  Xiao simultaneously sidestepped ahead of you, his face distorting into a scowl.  Zhongli, on the other hand remained still, his eyes the coldest you've ever seen.

"Relax.  I'm not here to fight," Childe chided. He remained as relaxed and unconcerned as ever despite Aether pointing the edge of the blade at his throat.  This man faced death with a smile-

"That's what you said last time, and you proceeded to attack us anyway," the traveler growled.  

"That's in the past."  Childe's eyes flit to Zhongli for a moment.  Ah, so he still hasn't told them?  Does the yaksha know, then?  He caught the uneasy side glance Xiao gave his master.  He does.  This’ll be interesting.  His gaze shifted to you.  "You disobeyed orders last night, Mezzetin."

"Mezzetin?"  Paimon's face twisted unhappily.  "What kind of dumb pet name is that?"

"Step closer, and I'll use force," warned the yaksha, who didn't conjure his weapon to avoid the prying eyes of Liyue's citizens.  Not that it would make a difference, anyway; people were already casting side glances at Aether's sword.

"No, you wouldn't.  Not here," the harbinger called his bluff, and didn't remove his gaze from you.  "So, I take it your time here was well-spent?  Good.  We'll be leaving tomorrow."

You took a half-step forward.  "Tomorrow? But--"

"I'm afraid I have business to discuss with you," Zhongli finally broke his silence, and the atmosphere grew tense when Childe's gaze sharpened in response.  "It may delay your leave."

"Oh?  Whatever do you want to discuss with me, Mr. Zhongli?"  The atmosphere grew heavier until it felt like the entire group was suffocating, Childe's icy smile sending chills down your spine.  He wore his usual friendly façade, but that just made it all the more worrisome as his eyes were vacant and calculating.  

"Uh-oh," Paimon squeaked, and disappeared.

"I'm sorry, dear friends, but I will have to take a rain check on our little celebration."

"We weren't even celebrating anything!"  Heat rose to your cheeks until the archon sent you an admonishing look that told you it really wasn't the time for your chirps.  He was practically emanating anger, hot and boiling to the point where you couldn't bear to stand there any longer.  It was like being in a boiling pot of water.

"Come."  Xiao snapped you out of your daze and encouraged you and Aether to follow him.  "They have matters to discuss."

[mxtantrights]

past lives | 3

a/n: Ok this is like the pre-climax? is that a thing? no well I'm gonna make it a thing right now! time to meet more of the family!!  enjoyyy <3

Fallon nudged your shoulder to get your attention. Previously your focus was on the champagne flute, and before that the odd waiter who served it to you with an old scar straight through his mouth.

“I brought you here to snatch and grab stuff, where’s the team spirit?” they ask.

You make a face, “You brought me here because you didn't wanna go alone. And I can’t blame you if I had to come here alone I would-”

“Definitely throw myself off the balcony. Running start.” a voice adds.

It was neither yours or Fallons. So the two of you turn around and find the culprit. And just like destiny or fate or something, you see the guy you handed off a letter from your dead parent a few days prior.

“I mean isn’t it kind of your party?” you ask.

Tim shrugs a bit and sips the drink in his hand. It’s a non verbal answer that gives something away. Maybe it’s in the 

“If you think that, then think about me. I’m the plus one.” you say.

He chuckles, “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Same”

“Again?” Fallon asks.

You nod your head, “I had to drop something off at the Wayne building not too long ago. To Mr.Drake actually.”

“Oh it’s just Tim.” he says and holds out his hand.

You quickly take it and shake as instructed. Then Fallon follows the action, along with an introduction. Tim smiles and it looks like a genuine one.

“Well when I said we were gonna smooze I didn’t know you pre-planned.” they say.

You nudge them as they snicker. 

“I’d probably be the wrong Wayne to smooze. My hectic schedule allows for no free time.” he answers.

Fallon laughs at this. “Oh, well you’re kinda on the younger side too.”

You can see Tim’s check taint red. His eyes dart away from the both of you. You still couldn’t believe that a young man like him was in charge of Wayne enterprises- or enterprise, however that worked out. 

It probably felt like the world was on his shoulders.

The phone in your cocktail bag buzzed. Even though you didn’t know who it was, you had a very high suspicion that it was the league. What they wanted you to do at tonight’s event was still under wraps. But you knew that whatever task it was, wasn’t going to lead to a happy ending. 

It never does.

You open your bag and take out your phone, “I’ve gotta handle this. My Aunt.”

Both Fallon and Tim nod as you walk away from your table and out into the balcony. It was a bit chippy outside so it wasn’t really of use to anyone. The rich don’t like the cold you guessed. Makes sense, heated floors and sidewalks. 

The cold air reaches your skin. You don’t shiver. Growing up in Gotham until you were eighteen you hadn't gotten used to it. It was no Antartica but then again that Icicle man did like to rein terror sometimes. It was like practice.

You open the text and sure enough,

tonight you act as transport. 

when you get handed a package deliver it here: 

45 Gotham Harbor 

Great. You were acting as a convoy tonight. It shouldn’t bother you that much, but it does. If whatever they were planning was something real and dangerous and they were keeping you low on the food chain, that mean you were expendable to them.

It hurt. 

It wasn’t like you ran away from them. They gave you an opportunity to leave after a couple of years being one of their fastest rising recruits.. At first it felt like a sick test. Like one final trust fall before they could actually believe your unwavering loyalty. 

You sat with the decision for days. It was a whole week before you decided to get out of the league. You thought that as soon as you stepped food out of the place they would kill you. But you walked out the front door and kept walking.

Oddly enough they had even given you a ride to Gotham. 

But you being a convoy tonight? This felt like a test. One you needed to pass. If not for your life, then to find out what they were really planning. The league never takes care of things so out in the open like this. 

“Did you just get dumped or something?” another random voice.

You turn off your phone and turn your head to the left. In the dark corner of the balcony is a guy. You can only make him out because of his lit cigarette. If it weren’t for that, you probably wouldn’t have made him. 

Have your senses and training begun to fade? Ra’s is probably somewhere vibrating off the walls.

Sure enough he comes out of the dark and you can see him fully. He’s not in the night standard uniform. Instead he's in a dress shirt underneath a brown jacket. He did try with the black slacks you see. 

Was he security? No he looked a bit familiar. 

You think you should probably say something before he thinks rudely of you. 

“No, just an interesting text.”

He hums some sort of sound. And then he walks a bit closer. You notice its not close enough to reach out and touch him. He’s really careful. He must be some type of security.

“You were talking to Tim, you one of those Gala Groupies?” he asks.

The shock that falls upon your face can't be helped. It instantly turns into sourness at the implication that you were a groupie. First off, Galas are boring. Second you’d more likely be a groupie for a rockstar than a rich old man- let alone a younger guy like Tim.

You hiss and cross your arms against your chest, “That was bit presumptive wasn’t it?”

“I didn’t mean it as an insult. Presumptive to think that I did.” he bites back.

You nod you head along with a grin. 

“Didn’t know the security detail came with snobbery. How do I know you’re not a groupie for Tim?” you ask.

He looks like he wants to hurl. Then he beings to laugh. His laughter fills the balcony a bit and you just watch in interest. He calms himself and then places his hand over the railing to rest.

“I would not, it’d be weird.”

“Not your type?” 

“My brother will never be my type.” 

Ah.

You look at him for a second more and then it clicks. This was Jason Todd, the black sheep of the Wayne family, you are talking to. You thought he looked familiar you just couldn’t place him earlier. Even though the white streak through his hair should’ve gave it away. 

“My apologies.” you say.

He fakes wiping a tear from his eye. “no worries, you gave me a laugh tonight. I should be thanking you.”

“I am not gonna be your groupie either.” 

“Presumptive, but okay.” 

“Have a good night.”

-

Bruce finds Tim in-between mingling and cuts in. 

“Oh thank God, I thought for another second my head would burst.” Tim says.

Bruce smiles, “Saved you then.” 

“Have you seen Dick anywhere? I wanted to get his eyes on a case of mine.”

“No night work at the Gala. Take a break.” 

Bruce begins to look for Dick within the crowd of people. His eye bounce from person to person. Effectively he’s glanced over you without a second thought. Or so he thinks.

When he does finally find Dick, he calls for him. This makes his son stop in his tracks. He comes to a stop and you were right behind him as he did. You aren’t quick enough to stop yourself and so you go colliding into his back.

-

“So sorry about that.” he says.

You shake your head, “It’s fine. No drinks spilled or whatever they say.” 

He throws out a laugh so easily. You smile quickly and make a B-line for Fallon. As you make your way to where they have taken new residence, you see their face change. More specifically their eyebrows go up in the way that says ‘oh?’

“Cut it out, he bumped into me.” 

“Maybe you guys can do some more bumping. Later on, if you-”

“I know exactly what you mean and I’m not entertaining you.”

-

Dick makes it over to his father and his brother. When he does Tim claps his back with his hand. It makes Dick wonder where the time went. 

“Nice to see you brother.” Tim says.

“You too. Bruce.”

Bruce just nods. A man of not many words for those closest to him. He sure did know how to entertain guests though. It was all a mask anyways. If anything he was doing them a service not using it with them.

“I almost ran into someone. Thankfully there was no drinks involved, I would’ve ruined a whole outfit.” Dick says, pointing back to you.

Tim follows his finger over to where you and Fallon are standing. 

“Oh, that’s who delivered me that letter the other day. Speaking of which, there was another one addressed to you Bruce.” he says.

Bruce nods his head once, “I know I saw it the other night when you passed out on your desk. At some point we’re gonna have a conversation about your sleeping habits.”

Jason walks up to the three men. 

“You’ll never correct it. He’s more of a bat than you.” he says.

Bruce is doing double the work. He’s listening to the conversation happening in front of him about Tim’s horrible sleeping schedule or lack thereof. While he looks over at you. The person Tim said delivered the letter.

His child.

[carewyncromwell]

[Rowan didn’t leave the Hospital Wing for almost a week. The cursed ice, even just by encasing her feet, had completely drained her strength, making her so weak that she couldn’t even stand. 

Carewyn blamed herself completely. Rowan had been trying to help her up when she got hit by the door’s freezing magic, and she wouldn’t even have been interested in the Cursed Vaults in the first place if it weren’t for Carewyn herself looking for her brother.]

I can’t let Rowan get hurt again because of me. 

[In a show of solidarity, Carewyn visited Rowan every day in the Hospital Wing, bringing her friend a copy of her notes from class that day, Chocolate Frogs, and books from the library to keep her company. She also popped by Ben’s bedside in the evenings to give him his own copy of her notes, as well as pieces of treacle tart from supper. It didn’t take long for Madam Pomfrey to lose most of her gruffness around Carewyn -- clearly her loyalty to and nurturing of her friends touched the school’s matron. 

Ben was released from the Hospital Wing a day or so. When Rowan was finally allowed to leave the Hospital Wing later that week around dinnertime, Carewyn immediately rushed to check in on her at the Slytherin table.]

[Carewyn could believe it -- the tightness of Rowan’s shoulders made it so that Carewyn could practically feel the shivering cold coming off of her. Her blue eyes narrowed slightly.]

Carewyn: “Rowan, I’m so sorry...it’s because of me that you got so hurt.”

Rowan: “Aw, come on, Carewyn -- I told you before, it’s not your fault. I wasn’t paying attention, that’s all...”

[She attempted a weak smile.]

Rowan: “I’m just not as quick as you, I guess. But I suppose anyone who sees us in Flying Class would know that!”

[She laughed self-consciously. Carewyn, however, couldn’t smile back.]

Rowan: “(gently) Carewyn, really...it’s okay. You don’t have to blame yourself.”

Carewyn: “(stubbornly) Well, I do blame myself. And I’m not going to put you in that kind of danger again. I’m going back to that Vault, and this time, I want you far away from it -- ”

Rowan: “(upset) Carewyn, you can’t go into that place alone! Sure, I get it -- I’m not the strongest person around...and I know I’m not the best choice to protect you from whatever’s in that Vault...but you’ll get hurt, if you go in there without any help. You can’t go by yourself!”

Carewyn: “I have to, Rowan. I told you -- those Vaults are the only clue I have that could lead me to my brother.”

Rowan: “(just as stubbornly as Carewyn) Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you have to go all by yourself. I might not be powerful enough to help protect you, but I’m not going to let my best friend go into that kind of danger alone!”

[Through her stubbornness, though, she was smiling in wry determination.]

[Carewyn raised an eyebrow doubtfully.]

Carewyn: “And you think one of them would help me?”

[Rowan’s smile faltered just slightly, becoming more thoughtful.]

Rowan: “Well, Ben certainly would...he was the first person I thought of. And with his talent at Charms, he’d obviously be a big help. But after what happened with the ice, he won’t be feeling up to something like this for a while. Penny’s good at Potions, but I don’t reckon Strengthening Solution will be enough to deal with the ice this time. Merula’s powerful, but you obviously can’t trust her...”

Carewyn: “Obviously.”

Rowan: “So yeah, I quickly came to the decision that you’d have to talk to someone we haven’t talked to yet -- someone more powerful than anyone in our year.”

Carewyn: “That’s logical...but do you really think an older student would help a bunch of second years? Would help ‘that delinquent Jacob Cromwell’s sister?’”

Rowan: “Hey, you somehow convinced Penny Haywood, the most popular girl in our year, to help us! If anyone can convince him, it’s you.”

[Carewyn still looked incredibly wary of this.]

Carewyn: “Which ‘him’ would I be convincing, exactly?”

Carewyn: “Who?”

[Rowan looked taken aback by Carewyn’s reaction.]

Rowan: “You haven’t heard of him? I thought all the first and second years knew about Bill Weasley. He’s a Gryffindor two years ahead of us. He’s always sticking up for younger students, protecting them from bullies and such...some people like to tease him for it, but just about everyone likes him. He’s checked out all the books in the Cursebreaking and Defense Against the Dark Arts sections of the library, so he’s really smart, and he's always training at the Training Grounds, so he’s really good at spells!”

[Carewyn couldn’t help but raise her eyebrows at the glowing endorsement.]

Does he also pass gold dust out his arse? 

[She bit down this meaner, more cynical response immediately, though, not wanting to hurt Rowan’s feelings.]

Carewyn: “...Mm...well, I gotta admit,”

If everything Rowan says about him is true.

[Rowan’s face then became a lot more serious.]

I have no idea.

[Despite this, though, Carewyn had made up her mind. Even if Bill didn’t end up being as powerful as Rowan thought, Bill was still an older student who had knowledge Carewyn didn’t have. He’d even read up on Cursebreaking in particular. And if he had a tendency to “look after” younger students, Bill Weasley could be a valuable asset in Carewyn getting into the Cursed Vaults, even if she still ultimately went in by herself.]

However hard it might be...if I’m going to get any help from Bill Weasley, I’m going to have to find a way to convince him.

[And so putting on her bravest, most confident expression, she crossed her arms.]

Carewyn: “...Maybe bringing a gift might help. If I give him something, even if we don’t know each other, maybe he’ll be more likely to give me something in return.”

I have a few Sickles saved up...maybe not enough to buy anything really nice, but maybe enough for a book or something...

[Rowan beamed, clearly liking the idea.]

((OOC: Next part -- meeting future Surrogate Big Brother Best Friend Forever Bill Weasley!! *insert the biggest fangirl squeal in the world here* I’vebeenwaitingforthisforeverrrrrr

The series “Carewyn’s Beginnings” (click the tag to see all of it) will ultimately encompass important scenes from Carewyn’s first three years, largely centering around her entry into searching for the Vaults and the important friendships she forged in those years. I hope to have a full masterpost of the entire series up once I’ve finished with the last installment, set at the end of Carewyn’s third year. By then I should hopefully also be caught up with the game enough that I can continue the gameplay posts for Carewyn’s sixth year where I left off so long ago, before my game glitched up!))

[egcdeath]

strangers again

summary: “hiiii sweetie!! can i request a steve x reader where he left yn for peggy. but he always felt guilty and missed yn. he would always stare at her pic. when he came back he bumped into yn while she was dropping a kid to daycare. and steve realized it was his son. kinda sad but fluff at the end pls!!!! and oh i super love your works!!! tysm 🌼🥺💕”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warnings: decent angst, brief mention of a depressive episode, abandonment, somewhat unrealistic behavior

word count: 3.8k

author’s note:  i really hope that this lives up to your expectations but it is a little cheesy. i’d also like to warn that i have not interacted with a child in several years, so.. sorry. (there’s also a lot of exposition so double sorry if that’s not your thing!)

You’d never forget the moment Steve left to return the stones, with the promise to be back in only a matter of moments.

Maybe your definition of a matter of moments was different from his.

You seemed to be the only one without a clue of what Steve truly planned to do, with Bucky only telling you after the matter that Steve was leaving for the past and for Peggy, and probably not coming back.

After finding out, something deep within you broke. You could barely leave your bed for days, you struggled to eat, sleep, even drink water. Every task that used to seem like muscle memory, began to feel like it carried the weight of the world behind it. Every hobby that you once enjoyed becoming empty and bleak.

You constantly felt inadequate. How could you love someone so much, and be told you were loved so much while always being second to someone else?

The simple sentiment of it had left you feeling miserable, and sick to your stomach. Literally. Nearly every morning, and occasionally if you smelled something too strong, you found the contents of your stomach emptied.

You attempted to ignore it at first. Meshed with every other unpleasant symptom you were going through, you’d figured that it was just one more bullet point on the list of things that had been plaguing you. But when your friends insisted that you go check up with your doctor, you had a hard time saying no.

Once you received the results from your blood test, you were completely taken aback by the fact that you were pregnant. You couldn't believe that you hadn’t considered the possibility of pregnancy earlier.

Yet,  after a long and hard period of pondering, you managed to surprise yourself once again after you realized you wanted to keep it.

After all, that could be the only piece of Steve you had left.

----

You began to tell yourself that Steve was dead. That was somehow less painful than the idea that he left you for someone that he barely knew, yet had fallen so hard for nearly 70 years ago. You refused to let yourself fall for anyone else romantically, now that you were aware that anyone had the capacity to leave you at any time, no matter how deep you perceived your relationship to be.

You guarded your heart, and made sure to only let in those that you knew you could trust for a fact. For the remainder of your pregnancy, only your closest family members and friends stood by your side.

About 8 months later, you brought a small, but healthy infant into the world. From that moment on, you promised yourself to become the best version of yourself that you could be. No dwelling on the past, and no yearning for what could’ve been. Your only duty now was to provide the best life possible for your offspring.

So you did.

----

You stood in the kitchen, peeling an orange for your son before he bounded into the room. You turned and gave him a big grin, and he grinned back to you.

“Did you get dressed all by yourself?” You asked him excitedly, receiving a nod in return before he ran up to your leg, and hugged it.

“I did, Mommy!” He looked up at you with his soulful eyes, and you couldn’t help but to feel bombarded with emotion.

Even at the tender age of five, Grant seemed to become a bit more like his father every day. The shape of his eyes, the slope of his nose, the sound of his giggle. To the average onlooker, he came across as the same as any other child, but to you, your son was the splitting image of Steve.

“Good work, little man. Now go sit at the table so mommy can finish breakfast, okay?” He didn’t even bother confirming with you before more or less sprinting to the table. You couldn’t help but to ask yourself if your son had obtained all of that energy and speed from his father as well.

Breakfast was over almost as soon as it started, and before you knew it, you were warming up your car after you’d assisted Grant with brushing his teeth.

You were in an oddly nostalgic mood that day, playing music from a time period before you’d even imagined bringing another life into the world. You glanced up at the rearview mirror and watched your son happily bop his head to the beat. You thought in passing about how much of a gift he truly was.

After arriving at his school, you hopped out of the car and over to the furthest seat in the back, where he’d insisted on sitting that day.

“You ready, big guy?” You questioned while reaching out to grab him from the car seat.

“Born ready,” he agreed. You chuckled and shook your head fondly at that while getting him out of the car.

“Who taught you that?”

Grant shrugged, “I came up with it myself.”

“I’m sure. Can you hold my hand while we’re out please?” You reached out for him, and he gladly obliged.

You soon became distracted by a large man across the street, his built figure and light blonde hair making you recall the father of your child. You gave Grant’s hand a light squeeze and continued to approach the door, not being able to help yourself, and glancing over at the man one last time.

Except this time was different. Your eyes locked with the blonde man outside of the coffee shop across the street unexpectedly. Where you once thought casually to yourself that it looked like Steve, you now had confirmation that it was in fact the man who you’d fallen in love with, and found yourself pregnant by.

You audibly gasped, receiving a bit of a questioning look from your child. Your heart dropped as a metric ton of emotions hit you all at once, anger, sadness, confusion. Everything you told yourself you needed to repress, had suddenly come back to you all at once.

Even from a distance, you swore you could see his eyes flit from you to Grant, and the next thing you knew, he was approaching your direction. Looking for an easy out, and a distraction from your rather observant child, you quickly caused a misdirection.

“Grant, is that Stacey over on the playground? You should totally go show her that new version of tag that you were telling me about!”

Your son, ever the speedster, booked it towards the playground, and you let out a sigh of relief. Although, the relief didn’t last long, as just moments later, Steve was almost all the way up to you. As you turned to try to escape, you felt a hand on your arm.

“Y/N?” He asked, almost timidly.

You weren’t even sure what to say. In fact, you didn’t feel like you had control of your own body at this point. “Steve? I-“ You ran a hand through your hair and bit the inside of your lip. “You need to go.” The pain that was rushing through you was too much for you to bare, especially considering the man who caused the hurt had suddenly decided to reappear in your life after giving you a world of self doubt and abandonment issues.

Steve seemed hurt by your statement, but you weren’t sure how much longer you could stand to even look at his face. “Please, Y/N, let me explain,” he begged.

“No, Steve. You don’t get that luxury. You left me for someone else, and I guess you got to live a nice, long life with her. You don’t get to just show back up in my life when you get bored, okay? I can’t afford to play those types of games anymore. Now if you’d let me go-“ You attempted to get to your car, but Steve side stepped you.

“It wasn’t like that. You know it isn’t like that.”

“Just fucking leave! You have no idea what this has all been like for me. You had your opportunity to leave, and you gladly took it. Stay the fuck out of my life, and the hell away from my son.” You grabbed the handle of your car door and got in, reeling as you watched a dejected Steve walk away.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you rested your head against the steering wheel. You were feeling way too many emotions to pinpoint exactly how you felt, but you knew that this couldn’t be good.

——

You put a brave face on for your son that day, picking him up from school in a daze, and only half listening to whatever it was that he was telling you.

You felt bad for only being able to nod along to whatever he was saying, and did he just ask you if he could get a dog? Did you just say yes?

You felt like a stranger watching yourself from the outside in. The ghost of the person you’d developed into over the years watching the past version of yourself slip right back into your body, and take over your daily routine through the next few days of your life.

You had an obscene amount of anger that soon dissolved into a deep sadness, and that sadness shorty developed into a morbid curiosity.

You spent an unreasonable, and certainly unhealthy amount of time searching your old lover’s name on tabloid websites and social media, just to see if he’d given a statement on his whereabouts, or a statement about anything at all.

After about day three of your minor internet stalking, you’d had an epiphany while sitting in your office.

You still have Steve’s number saved on your phone.

That was, of course, if it hadn’t changed between now and the years that he’d been off living in the past.

Something about knowing that you were just one text away from him made your heart race with a mixture of nerves and interest. Just one impulsive decision, and you could change the whole trajectory of the rest of your life.

If you got back in contact with Steve, you might not ever be willing to leave him. You refused to make that mistake again.

Until you did.

After reading Grant his nightly bedtime story, then wrapping him tightly in his little bed, you’d decided to treat yourself to a glass of Chardonnay.

It’d been a weird past couple of days. Your time traveling ex had randomly appeared back into your life, your coworkers seemed to get on your nerves a little more every moment you were around them, and Grant had a temper tantrum in the grocery store that afternoon over a chocolate bar, which gained judging stares from customers, and may have made you feel the slightest bit inadequate.

At least that’s what you told yourself as you filled your glass again, because two glasses can’t hurt, and again, since I kinda deserve this extra one, don’t I? The next thing you knew, the bottle was empty, and you were texting Steve for the first time in years.

Y: Is this Steve?

You watched as three white dots hovered on your screen for a moment, disappeared, then came back once again.

S: Is this Y/N?

Y: Yes.

Y: We should tlak

Y: *talk

S: I agree.

Y: So lets

Y: talk

S: I don’t think this is a conversation for texts.

Y: Then call me???????????????????

S: We should talk in person.

Y: Im not gonna do that sober

S: You’re not sober?

Y: do you think id text u sober u big fuckni asshole

S: I guess you’re right

S: So are we gonna talk?

Y: no ur gonna meet me at b cup cafe tomorrow at 10

S: AM or PM?

Y: AM I’m off

S: Are you sure you want to do this?

Y: Say yes before i change my mind

S: I’ll see you there

Y: Bye babydaddy

S: ????

You promptly deleted the messages, tossed your phone somewhere on the sofa, and sunk into the seat. Even in your not-completely-sober state, you already felt the all too familiar sense regret. You dragged the blanket that hung over the top of the sofa over your exhausted body, and closed your eyes, wishing that this was somehow all a dream.

----

It was not all just a dream.

You woke up with dried drool on your chin, and a deep pit of bad feelings and regret in your chest. Of course, you ignored the bad feelings and got ready, business as usual. You successfully dropped Grant off at school with little complications, and found yourself perking up a bit more.

Yet, something still felt slightly off. You reached into the passenger seat for your phone, and as you looked down on it, saw the familiar notification of a calendar event.  

10:00 AM b cup coff w Steeb

You groaned out loud at this. There was no obligation for you to go meet with him, but perhaps going and talking to Steve would bring you some sort of closure. Maybe then you could move on with your life, get with a nice guy who would mean it when he tells you he won't leave you, who loves Grant like he’s his own biological offspring, and to take care of the both of you through thick and thin.

You gladly daydreamed of this fantasy man while driving to the shop, but you couldn’t help but to see Steve’s face doing all of the aforementioned things. Before you even fell pregnant, that’s what you’d truly wanted with Steve. To be a family. To have your definition of home be with your people, rather than a place.

Entering the coffee shop, you briefly ordered your drink before looking around and find Steve sitting alone in a booth, mindlessly stirring around the liquid in his cup.

Timidly, you approached the booth, before setting your purse down and sitting across from him.

“You... you came?” He looked up to you with almost watery eyes.

“Of course I did,” you tried to hold yourself back from mentioning something about following through on your word. You wanted this to be as civil as possible. To build bridges rather than burn them.

“I just didn’t expect to see you in person again. And, you know, you were running a little late,” he added.

“Well, you try waking a five year old up and getting him ready for school every day,” you expelled a humorless chuckle to deflect from the slight agitation you were feeling.

“While you’re hungover?” Steve asked with a bit of a smirk, trying to lighten up the mood.

“While you’re hungover,” You confirmed, genuinely laughing now. It felt good, natural even. You’d kind of forgotten just how pleasant things used to be with Steve.

“Did you mean it last night?” he interrupted the laughter with a serious look.

“I honestly cannot remember anything I said last night. Elaborate, please?”

“That he’s mine. Your son.” He watched you silently nod, then began to speak again, “Wow, I just didn’t realize… How did that happen?” He looked down into his drink nervously.

“Well, it’s kind of hard to recall the exact details, but when a mommy and a daddy love each other very much...” You trailed off, and looked up as a barista called a butchered version of your name.

You were glad to have an excuse to get up and leave for a moment. Adrenaline was racing through your body, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep your composure before you erupted into tears, or had some sort of angry outburst.

Bringing your cup back to the booth, you sat down and took a sip of the scalding drink, “Where did we leave off?”

“I believe you were giving me the birds and the bees?”

“Right! Well, I think you know the rest. I’ll tell you more about Grant later. Right now, I want to know why you left and suddenly decided to come back.” You genuinely felt proud of your delivery. This was the moment you’d practiced in front of the mirror for years, and you didn’t even butcher it.

Steve shook his head and looked into his drink once again. It was so hard to look at you, let alone make eye contact with you, when he knew that he’d been the one to give you an ocean of grief. Yet, he was somewhat intrigued by hearing that his son’s name was his middle name.  

“It’s kind of a long story,” Steve began.

“Good thing we have time,” you crossed your arms as you spoke.

“Well, waking up in a whole new time period isn’t exactly the easiest thing ever. You and me both know I missed it there, and it’s always been more than just nostalgia for me. I truly believed that I belonged back there.”

Of course, you had an idea of this, but hearing Steve confirm what you’d already thought made your insides twist.

“But I was so wrong. More than anything, I guess I was in love with a romanticized version of the past. Of Peggy.”

Hearing her name, especially from Steve, made you bristle. You wanted to interrupt him at this point, but it wouldn’t do you or him any good to become hostile while he explained himself.

“By the time I realized, it was too late. I figured you’d already moved on and found someone else to take care of you, and the world, this world, didn’t really need me anymore. But something possessed me to come back.”

“So you’re telling me that if you stopped being an idiot that just assumes things, we could’ve worked this out before? That you could’ve been an active participant in your son’s life?”

“I guess that’s a good way to interpret that story. I know I haven’t been in his life, but is there any way that I can still meet him?” Steve asked hopefully.

“Yeah, of course. He’s just like,” you sighed a bit to yourself. “He’s like a carbon copy of you. Especially his personality, but like, down to his mannerisms. I always struggled to understand how he could be so much like his dad, and never even had met him. You’ll love him.”

“Even if I didn't like him, I’d still love him.”

“How do you still manage to be such a cheeseball all the damn time? You think you’d be able to make it to dinner tonight?”

----

At exactly 6:30 on the dot, your doorbell rang, and before you even had the chance to think about opening it, Grant already was at the door, and opening it. You cringed on the inside, and made a mental note to have another conversation about stranger danger with him.

“Do I know you? Who are you?” you heard your child question from the other room as you set down the last of the plates in your dining room.  

“I’m Steve, your mom’s friend... and…” Steve nearly spilled the beans to his son, but didn’t want to cause any more damage than he’d already done. “Her friend.”

“That’s so cool! I have friends too, like Nick, and Stacey, and,” you’d rushed up to the door and wiped your brow, internally hoping that you hadn’t just smudged the makeup you’d put on for the occasion.

“Hi, Steve, come on in,” You beckoned him in, and pulled Grant to the side, quietly scolding him before leading Steve into the dining room. “Grant! This is the last time I’m telling you about opening doors, okay?” He nodded obediently, then followed you and Steve.

“Can I sit next to your friend, Mommy?”

“Is that alright with you, Steve?”

“More than fine.”

Grant sat down next to him, and scooted a bit closer than necessary, while you sat across from the two of them.

“I have to in… enter a gate you now. Because Mommy never brings any over her friends over. I didn’t know she had any friends.”

You blushed a bit at this, at your son’s overdramatic behavior, and his admission that you’d become a bit of a loner.

“Go ahead, pal,” Steve chuckled heartily.

“When did you meet my mom?”

“Before you were even born.”

“Wow! That’s a long time. You’re really old. What’s your favorite dinosaur?”

“I’ve heard T-Rexes are pretty cool.”

“Have you met any?”

You nearly spat out your drink at this. If only your son had known.

“Nope, never. Have you?”

“Hmm, not yet. But they’re my favorite dino too. Now your ‘gating is over.”

You couldn’t help but to burst out into laughter at the bizarre exchange, but you were glad that your son and Steve were getting along so well.

The rest of dinner went pretty similarly, with Grant bantering with Steve, and Steve indulging him. You could tell that the relationship between the two of them was something that came both naturally and easily. You couldn’t help but to grin as Grant began to ramble about how cool Steve was, and how he swore he was better friends with Steve than you were.

“Mommy, isn’t Steve the best? You guys should totally get married so he can have dinner with us every day!” he swooned. “He even kinda looks like me, right?!”

That’s why you couldn’t help what came out of your mouth next.

“Grant, Steve is… He’s your dad,” you said quietly.

Grant nodded, then slurped up a noodle, “That’s why he’s so cool! He gets it from me, right Mom?”

“That sounds right to me,” You glanced up at Steve, and noticed his surprised expression. You mouthed something along the lines to ‘He’ll process it later,’ and waved a dismissive hand, before going in for another bite of food.

----

After putting Grant to bed, You and Steve stood at your kitchen sink, bumping elbows occasionally as the two of you silently worked together to wash and dry dishes.

The domesticity and familiarity of the action brought you an obscene amount of comfort. You remembered how you once believed that this is what your future would look like. Your thoughts were interrupted by Steve beginning to talk.

“Doesn’t this remind you of life after the first snap?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“Kind of. You’re not off the hook yet, by the way. You still have plenty of explaining and proving you’ve changed to do.” You set the last cup in the cupboard, then dried your hands off.

“I know, I know,” Steve began.

“We don’t even know if you’re ready for fatherhood. But right now, I kinda don’t care. I really just want you to kiss me.” You reached up to Steve’s cheek, and he pulled you in for a soft and chaste kiss.

You’d never felt more at home.

——

me with this fic:

[spencers-renaissance]

I found my way home

Summary: After Spencer tells Hotch about his recent autism diagnosis, he expects that to be the end of it. Somehow, though, it keeps coming up, and Hotch keeps proving himself to be the best father figure he could have asked for. 

Tags: autistic spencer, protective hotch, hurt/comfort, fluff, paternal hotch, team as family

TW: mentions of ableism, one small instance of ableism & homophobia 

Pairing: Gen 

Word Count: 4.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

This was borne from my conversations with @criminalmindsvibez about the lack of autistic spencer fics and her amazing headcanons. While I'm not autistic, Emily is, and helped me to portray Spencer's autism as accurately as possible. That said, please feel free to correct me on anything I got wrong :)

Spencer had made an effort to get into work even earlier than usual today. He’d ridden the metro through the city, dipping his hand into his messenger bag every few minutes to compulsively check that the slim letter he’d received in the post the other day is still in the front pocket where he’d safely placed it that morning. He brushes his fingers over the paper once more as he enters the near-empty bullpen, the letter cool from the winter air.

It’s still so surreal to him that this is where he works. After years of dreaming of working for the FBI he’s finally here, and even though it’s been his place of work for almost two months now, he’s still not used to it. The warm offices are a nice reprieve from the wintry December wind, and he can feel himself relaxing as he heads to his desk. Leaving his coat and messenger bag on his chair, he pulls the letter out of the front pocket and runs his index finger along the edge. He finds himself biting his bottom lip as he tries to work up the courage to go and see Hotch. 

Sucking in a deep breath, he marches determinedly up to Hotch’s office, entering as soon as his knocks are answered. 

“Reid,” Hotch says pleasantly as he takes a seat opposite his desk, realising belatedly that he probably should have waited until he was invited. “You’re in early. What can I do for you?”

Nervously, Spencer hands him the letter he’d couriered across the city so carefully. He’d taken care to open it neatly with his letter opener but the return address on the back has been stamped at a crooked angle, and it bothers him every time he notices it. He can’t stop looking at it now as he taps his fingers anxiously against his leg in the pattern of the Fibonacci sequence, a safe and familiar reassurance played out by his nervous fingers. He watches apprehensively as Hotch pulls the letter out of the envelope, unfolding it and skimming his eyes down the page, taking in the news Spencer’s been so anxious to share with him.

Diagnosis: Asperger’s Syndrome

God, it had been a long process. He’d had to seek out a doctor in DC who diagnosed adults, paid for all the consultations and diagnostics himself — his insurance certainly wouldn’t cover it, not that he’d feel comfortable using his cushy FBI insurance for something so personal anyway — and the whole process had taken far longer than he’d expected. Finally, though, the envelope had arrived in the mail, and he officially had a diagnosis. 

Of course, he’d had his suspicions for years, especially after one of his professors during his second PhD had casually asked whether he’d ever been tested, planting a seed in his brain that led to many late nights in the library, reading all the literature available to him. It’s why he’d found it strange that it had felt so validating to finally receive that letter in the post. But it had.

The label made sense, and now that he had a diagnosis from a medical professional he felt comfortable to share it with others; he’d been far too paranoid about being questioned, not being believed or lectured about the evils of self-diagnosis no matter how he was confident in himself. He didn’t tend to be an insecure or self-conscious person, but after years of bullying and trauma surrounding what he now knew for sure to be his autistic traits, he couldn’t help but feel almost protective of his affirming label. 

Now though, it’s an irrefutable statement. Dr Spencer Reid has autism, and the first person he wants to tell is Hotch.

“I had no idea you were getting tested, Reid,” Hotch says, a hint of surprise bleeding into his voice. “Is there any specific reason you wanted to share this with me?”

“Well… I felt like someone on the team should know,” Spencer starts carefully, afraid to give too much of himself away, “and I thought that someone in a leadership position was the best option. Gideon has never been very… supportive of my autistic traits or behaviour, so I thought that you— that you would be the best option.” He feels awkward, fidgeting in his chair as he watches Hotch’s serious face and kind eyes absorb the information. 

“That trust in me means a lot, Reid,” he says, a rare smile making its way onto his face. In that moment, Spencer knows he made the right decision. “How can I make things easier for you? Is there anything you need me to be doing differently?”

“Uh—” He hadn’t really been anticipating that question and it catches him off guard: he’d predicted a quick nod of acknowledgement, a request to photocopy the letter so it can be put on file followed by a swift dismissal, but the letter is now sitting on his side of the desk: clearly, Hotch intends on keeping this between them. This is far from what he expected.

“Why don’t you start by telling me about autism and how it might affect your work?” Hotch corrects himself, recognising quickly Spencer’s need for specifics. “I’ll admit I don’t know much beyond some probably rather unhelpful stereotypes.”

Spencer nods. He can answer that question. “As everyone knows I often go off on tangents,” he begins, “and that’s because my special interests — or hyperfixations — often coincide with our work, so I know a lot about the topics we’re investigating. If I do that, just redirect me to the case and I’ll be fine. It’s also really hard for me to have to present myself in a certain way all the time. Vocal stims and gestures are the most satisfying to me but I often have to mask them, which I’ve never been very good at anyway, and it’s fairly exhausting. That’s why I often excuse myself; I go to the bathroom or a secluded hallway and stim on my own. My doctor also told me I tend to overcompensate in social situations and over-perform emotion. Those are the basics, I guess, but it’s a very complex disorder and since it makes up me as a human being, I can’t exactly explain all of it in one conversation.”

“No, that’s fine, Reid, you’ve given me a good picture of what to expect, thank you.” Hotch smiles at him, fondness in the crinkles around his eyes and the softness invading his usually stern expression. “First of all, you never have to feel like you need to excuse yourself to stim. Do you think it would be helpful if we told the rest of the team so they know what to expect? I’m assuming vocal stims are saying certain words or making sounds…?”

Spencer nods. 

“Okay, so if you needed to do that we could just continue the conversation while you get it out of your system. Gestures certainly wouldn’t be a problem. How do you feel about that?”

He hadn’t really considered telling the rest of the team but it seemed sort of intimidating, like he’d be opening a vulnerable side of himself to people he didn’t even know that well. On the other hand, they’d all been so understanding of his quirks and odd behaviour so far without even knowing the reason behind it. He’d never once been made to feel the way he used to at school, forced to either pretend to be someone else completely or be isolated and ostracised. 

He settles for, “I’ll think about it.” 

“That’s fine. There’s no pressure,” Hotch assures him. “I’m very happy you told me, Reid. I hope you know you can come and talk to me about anything, whether it’s about this or something completely different.”

Spencer leaves his office with the letter back in his hands, no notes or copies having been made, feeling almost elated. Never in a million years would he have expected that to go so well. 

⭐️

He doesn’t really expect it to come up again. He’d told Hotch so that he could understand him a bit better, and also because Hotch had quickly assumed a protective, almost paternal role in his life and he wanted to share the piece of news with him whether he was leading his department or not. That was supposed to be it, though, he didn't think anything would materially change, especially since he decided not to tell the team about the diagnosis just yet.

But almost immediately after he’d told Hotch his diagnosis, his rambles began to be gently redirected back to the case, sometimes without him even noticing. He wasn’t rudely cut off by anyone anymore, Hotch always steering him back on course before anyone else can jump in and hurt Spencer’s feelings. It’s so… kind that it almost feels foreign, and he finds himself gravitating towards the older man more and more, sitting next to him on every jet journey and staying glued to his side during cases. 

His newfound protectiveness over Spencer is only demonstrated more clearly a few months after their conversation in Hotch’s office when they’re on their way to New Mexico for a case. The second he spots that the murder victims had all been found with different Fitzgerald quotes scrawled on sheets of paper found in their own personal notebooks, ripped out and left for investigating officers to find, he launches into an info-dump to rival info-dumps. 

He can’t help that literature is a special interest of his, made all the more intense by the fond childhood memories of reading to his mother in her bed. Fitzgerald had been her favourite author of the Modern Era, and he’d spent hours analysing significant passages in his novels as a child, so he starts explaining the literary merit of each of the quotes left at the crime scenes. 

Apparently, he doesn’t hear the first two times Hotch tries to direct him back on topic, but he hears it when Gideon shouts, “Spencer! Long and unnecessary tangents are not conducive to actually solving these cases. Get back on topic. Now.” He’s loud enough to briefly knock him back several decades to memories of his father screaming at his mother’s schizophrenic babbling, when she’d become convinced that the villains of her favourite novels were trying to break into the house.

Spencer stops mid-sentence and stares at Gideon, who is staring right back. Everyone’s watching the two awkwardly, but the short moment of silence is quickly broken by Hotch. “There is absolutely no need to be that rude, Jason,” he says disapprovingly, while he lays a hand on Spencer’s arm in a light, absent-minded sort of touch. “Reid may have been off-topic but he deserves respect just like everyone else on this team. Nobody needs to be shouted at like that.” He directs his attention back to Spencer. “Why don’t you tell us how those Fitzgerald quotes could help us solve the case, Reid?” 

He gives him an encouraging look, and when he looks around the jet, everyone else is, too. Carefully, he starts speaking again, a little afraid of being cut off again, but after a few sentences of relevant explanation he regains his momentum. It’s more than a little vindicating when it’s his ‘unnecessary tangent’ that ends up being the key to cracking the case. 

⭐️

Soon after Hotch’s split from Haley, he approaches Spencer one evening when they’re the only two left at the office with a dinner invitation. Within the hour, they walk into a nice, low-key Italian place in the city and take a seat in the far corner of the restaurant. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks a little uncertainly, confused as to why his boss is suddenly taking him for dinner. 

“I had this idea almost as soon as you told me about your autism,” Hotch explains, knowing by now that preambles and niceties only frustrate Spencer instead of setting him at ease. “I wanted to take you out for dinner every week to try and give you a space to ramble about all your special interests and not feel like you have to mask around everyone. But when I was with Haley, all my personal time was obviously spent with her and Jack. Now, I have the time to dedicate to you and all the incredible knowledge you’re hoarding in that brain of yours.”

“Really?” Spencer asks excitedly. The idea of uninhibited space to talk about the recent knowledge he’s acquired and not have to feel insecure or worry about performing social skills he doesn’t see the point of is everything he’s ever wished for, and something so wonderful being provided by Hotch only makes it better. 

“Really.”

Spencer wastes no time. He dives right in. “I was just watching a documentary the other day about volcanoes and their ability to trigger lightning storms with their voltage,” he begins. “Basically, magma rises toward the volcano’s surface, its water rapidly turns to vapor, which shatters the molten rock into tiny particles and creates charged particles. When the ash plume erupts into the atmosphere, the densely packed particles collide, driven by momentum. Friction then affects their electrons, becoming electrically charged. Positively and negatively charged electrons separate in the ash plume which creates a charge imbalance that builds an electric charge strong enough to trigger a lightning storm.” 

“That’s incredible.”

“I know,” Spencer says excitedly. “If the ash plume rises high enough in the atmosphere ice forms, and when ice, hail, and supercooled liquid droplets collide, the rates of lightning explode, it’s crazy.”

They’re briefly interrupted by a waitress taking their orders, but as soon as she leaves, Hotch gets him to jump back in. “What about that lecture you attended last week… the literature of 18th Century England or something?”

“19th Century English Lit, yeah!” He’s so eager to finally share this with somebody who will genuinely listen to him, and he can’t help it when his arms start to flap excitedly. Remembering where he is, he doesn’t try to mask it, pin his arms to his sides and simply deal with and suppress the innate urge to stim, he lets his body do what it wants to. Instead of eliciting a strange, sideways look, Hotch just smiles fondly.  

“The lecturer had this fascinating theory on Dickens. I’ve always seen him as a pretty straight forward author of picaresque fiction, obviously combined with facets of melodrama. And it’s common knowledge that he was inspired by the novel of sensibility, of course. But I’d never thought about the stylistic and lexical choices in his works beyond standard analysis, and this lecturer went on a deep dive into his use of collocation and it opened my eyes…”

He spends the whole evening stimming to his heart’s content while detailing every current interest of his to Hotch, who simply listened intently while eating his meal slowly, dragging out the meal for as long as Spencer needed. “Let me give you a lift home,” Hotch insists after footing the bill, leading him out into the warm evening air.

“Oh, I don’t mind taking the metro,” he replies truthfully. 

“I know. But it would make me feel better to drop you home safely. It’s late and seeing you into your apartment building would give me peace of mind.”

“Sure,” Spencer agrees happily, he’s still buzzing from such a nice evening and the least he can do for Hotch is let him rest easy tonight, so he climbs into the passenger side of his car. A few minutes into the car ride home, he realises he should probably actually verbalise just how much he enjoyed dinner. “Thank you, Hotch. I don’t think anybody’s ever done something so nice for me before.”

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” Hotch replies, smiling even though he doesn’t take his eyes off the road. Spencer very much likes it when Hotch uses his first name, and he’d been doing it all evening. He doesn’t really understand why it feels so nice, just that it makes him feel… special, maybe.

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he repeats, before freezing as he realises what he’s said. He’s got so used to not masking all evening, he’s not in the right rhythm and mindset to suppress the urge to repeat Hotch’s words. He’s been so nice the whole evening, the last thing Spencer wants is for Hotch to think he’s mocking him. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Hotch reassures him, tapping his arm lightly as he smiles encouragingly. 

“Don’t mention it, Spencer,” he says again, repeating it a few times in relief before the itch is satisfied. He really does have the best boss/friend in the whole world. There’s no doubt about that. 

⭐️

Rossi’s initial reaction to Spencer had admittedly been a bit rocky, and having Hotch undeniably on his side was the only thing that made those first few months bearable. He never let them go off on their own; never put Spencer in a position where he’d have to be alone with him. Gradually, though, Rossi adjusted to his quirks and he became almost as protective of Spencer as Hotch.

That doesn’t bode well for the local sheriff when they’re on a case in North Carolina. He’s been prickly since they arrived, being as stubborn and uncooperative as possible, slowing down their progress on actually solving the case, and Spencer’s noticed him being a little extra rude to him in particular. It doesn’t massively bother him — it’s not exactly like someone’s aversion to him is a novel concept — but he can feel some sort of tension coming from the others. It happens a lot more now that they know about his autism and are more aware of themselves and others.

He tries to ignore it the best he can; he puts his head down and focuses on the geographical profile, going wherever he’s sent. Besides, the sooner they solve this case the sooner they can get out of North Carolina and back to DC. On their third day on the case, he’s working quietly in their designated corner of the police department alongside Hotch and Rossi while the others are out investigating in various different places. It’s a nice environment, and even though both men are his superiors, he feels more relaxed in their company than in anybody else’s.

It’s a relatively pleasant morning — considering the whole trying to catch a brutal serial killer thing — until they need to ask the sheriff a question. He saunters over, a tense and angry expression on his face, and Spencer can’t help but feel a little off, the confusing tension in the air that Spencer can’t quite identify making him anxious in his inability to properly decipher it. “Gentlemen,” he says, already frustrated. Spencer suspects it’s a pride thing; not many police departments like being shown up enough to have the FBI called in.

Eager to know the answer to their question, Spencer’s the one to jump in and ask. “Sheriff, we were just wondering whether the town gets much traffic from the local university or—”

He’s cut off by the sneering, towering man. “I’m not taking any questions from your kind,” he says aggressively. 

“I’m sorry?” Spencer squeaks as Rossi and Hotch both prepare to say something in response.

The sheriff cuts them off before they can get their likely diplomatic and calming words out. “Homo retards aren’t welcome around here.”

“Hey!” Rossi shouts as he leaps out of the chair, grabbing him by the collar as he’s helped by the element of surprise. “You don’t fucking talk to Spencer like that, you hear me? Weak, cowardly men like you—”

“Dave,” Hotch says placatingly, putting a hand on his shoulder and diffusing the situation. “Listen, Sheriff, we are only here to help you. But if you can’t respect my agents then we’re going to have a problem. Either you’re civil to Dr Reid, or I’m reporting you to the NC Sheriff’s Association. You hear me?”

The sheriff’s pride is clearly wounded, but he at least nods before giving them all a scornful look and walking away. 

“We didn’t even get to ask the question,” Spencer says anxiously, suddenly feeling out of his depth, like he can’t quite get enough air. 

“Dave, try and get an answer,” Hotch directs, taking charge of the situation. “Spencer, come with me.” He takes him into a secluded hallway for a little privacy, sitting him down on the cool linoleum before sinking down next to him. “You’re okay.”

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Spencer whispers over and over to himself as he rocks backwards and forwards, trying desperately to self-soothe.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Hotch asks. He’s been in enough of these situations with Spencer to know he’s usually in two very different headspaces: he either longingly craves the grounding touch of a hug or a hand on his back, or he needs complete space. He’s also learned that asking outright is the only way to get an direct answer. 

“Yes,” Spencer replies, before repeating it over and over again as he’s wrapped up in Hotch’s arms, head pressed against his chest, his hand pressing gently against the back of Spencer’s head. He starts to calm down as he manages to breathe to the heat of Hotch’s calm, steady heartbeat, the comforting touch of someone he trusts with his life also helping to bring him back down to earth. A good ten minutes after the altercation with the sheriff, he’s feeling much better and brings his head out of it’s safe cocoon between Hotch’s chest and hand. 

“Come on,” Hotch says kindly. “Let’s get back to the case, yeah? You can just sit and work quietly until you’re ready to hold a proper conversation again. How does that sound?”

Spencer nods tiredly, knowing that work will perk him back up again, and being surrounded by his team will make him feel safe, asshole sheriff or not.

⭐️

Over the years Hotch helps him through any hurdles that come his way, learning the exact nuances of Spencer’s characteristics and requirements, making sure to accommodate him in every way possible.

He brings an extra, super-soft sweater in his go-bag in case Spencer ever forgets his and needs something gentle on his skin but tight enough to make him feel secure. He buys him stimming toys, dropping them on Spencer’s desk before he even arrives at work and lets him use his office whenever the lights and noise of the bullpen get too much, drawing the blinds and giving him the space he needs. Rossi doesn’t even question it anymore when Hotch shows up with a stack of paperwork and moves into his office for the morning. 

It wasn’t until Hotch made a concerted effort to make his life easier that Spencer realised how hard it had been fighting through life on his own. So when he realises Hotch’s birthday is coming up, he decides he wants to show his gratitude. It’s never been easy for him to express emotions, especially since he’s never really found it rude when people don’t thank him, but he knows that for most neurotypical people, appreciation is important. 

So he talks it over with Derek and on Hotch’s birthday, he comes into work to see Spencer waiting in his office with balloons, a cake, a card, and a present. He’d spent hours trying to find the right words to explain how he feels, to find the right words to show Hotch just how much everything he’s done for him means, but eventually he’d settled on something simple:

Caroline B Cooney wrote: “I found my family. I found the right thing to do. I found my way home.” 

I found all of these things when I joined the BAU, but more specifically when I walked into your office, hands shaking, clasping a letter I’d been waiting for all my life. Thank you. 

Hotch reads it with tears in his eyes before taking in the cake, a classic birthday cake Spencer had bought at the store, the words “Happy Birthday Dad” written in blue icing. He didn’t really understand why the cake had stood out to him, or why he associated the word ‘dad’ with someone who wasn’t related to him at all, but he’d trusted his gut and with Derek’s cheerleading, he’d bought it. 

“Oh, Spencer,” Hotch says tearfully. “Can I hug you?”

Feeling only mildly uncomfortable at the visible display of emotion Spencer doesn’t know what to do with, he nods and steps into Hotch’s comforting embrace. “This means the world to me,” Hotch murmurs quietly as he stands, hugging Spencer for as long as the younger man can stand it. 

Spencer’s still not completely sure why he’s managed to make him so emotional, but at least he can trust that it’s a good thing, that Hotch is happy and pleased and reassured. And if he can make him feel even a smidgen as happy as Hotch has made Spencer over the years, well. He’ll consider his long and boring trip into the city to buy the cake, present and card worth it.

Quick Note: Spencer is diagnosed with Asperger’s because that part of the fic is set in 2005. These days he would be diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD)

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @strippersenseii

[souljoon]

Like a fool (pt.1)

pairing: teacher!jungkook x cafe owner!reader word count: 2k genre: fluff, smut, ex lovers au warnings: sexual content, slight dom!jungkook, sub!reader, unprotected sex (stay safe loves!)

synopsis: Everyone in the neighborhood knows you and Jungkook will inevitably end up in a wedlock despite the complicated status of your on-and-off relationship. While you want to keep a civil relationship with him, Jungkook learned not to care about labels long ago since the first time you two broke up. Whatever you’d say, he intends to keep his place in your heart taken for the rest of your life.

~~~

“Your beau is here,” Jimin prompted behind you.

Without turning in his direction, your attention to the carrot cake remaining glued to the carrot cake you were currently frosting about.

At this point, you wouldn’t even be surprised to see Jungkook on the opposite side of your bed in the morning. He seems to find it amusing to see you evidently pissed whenever he’s around. How couldn’t you? He not only takes over Jimin’s job but he often causes a scene with the customers in the cafe—which, to fuel more of your unspoken frustration, are students from the nearby community college.

You couldn’t admit how the attention he was getting from people of different gender identities still bothers you despite the mutual decision to call the engagement off. You understand your ex-fiance is a very attractive man. And his charisma could probably stir attraction from married women regardless of their age.

Over the course of six years of a complicated relationship with him, you two had already been in two break ups in college, citing his laid back self in college and your endless insecurities that urged you to try to get away from him, from the spell he had on you.

While you decided to pursue your dream to start your own cafe business post-graduation, Jungkook surprisingly landed on a teaching job in Jung-do High School which is also located in the same neighborhood two years ago. 

Footsteps are, again, back in the kitchen. “He just wore an apron. So I’m guessing he’s here until the shop closes.” It was Jimin, informing you yet again as if it was part of his job to report Jungkook’s every move to you.

This time, you sweep a brief glance behind. “Don’t let the counter vacant, Chim.” You say, cleaning up the cake board as a finishing touch to your masterpiece.

“He took over the counter, _____. How am I supposed to make him go away when he’s our own human advertisement. He’s attracting more customers!”

With a glare darted to his direction, you suggest, “Then I guess I should replace you with him, instead?”

Jimin visibly sulked, not really wanting to argue with you—his boss. “Fine!”

Six months. That’s how long you’ve been single since. Sure he had you wrapped around his fingers back then. But you wanted to prove to him and to yourself that you can live without him. However, it’s too impossible to keep up with it when he freely deems himself welcome wherever you are, maintaining his act of indifference toward the real score between you.

Intending to place the cake in the display, you finally went out of the kitchen-- ironically, just in time to run into him. Jungkook being the shameless ex-boyfriend that he is, took the cake in your hands.

He was wearing a gym class outfit— a pair of black adidas sweatpants, and a plain, white shirt over a black hoodie. If only you were not trying to stay as far as possible away from him, you’ll probably tease him about his own dress code. He doesn’t look like he just got out of his class as the teacher. He looked like he just went out of bed before he came here.

“Aren’t you supposed to be home?” You ask from behind him.

“I’m bored,” he simply replied.

“What do you mean you’re bored? Haven’t you just got off work?”

He spun around, startling you when you came face to face with him. If you couldn’t properly see his entire face before, you do now much to your annoyance.

He sighs. “I did. Look, I’m just helping Jimin-hyung out here. I won’t bother you, I swear.”

“You don’t have to because you’re not my employee, Kook.”

“Well, I could use some part time if you’re hiring.” Jungkook shrugs.

Here we go, again.

Your eyes narrowed to which roused him to raise his hands up defensively.

“Jagiya—”

“Lovebirds,” Jimin suddenly interrupts.

“What?!” You both snapped back at Jimin’s direction.

“Whoa, tone it down— you two. Restroom is right there in case you need to release the sexual tension. It’s getting intense out here.” He jests, making a shooing motions with his hands.

Jungkook wasted no more time and took it as his cue to grab your wrist, dragging you with him as he navigated the way past the kitchen into the storage room.

A temporary relief washes through you when Jungkook brought you in this enclosed, rather safe space instead of the restroom. However, dread slowly consumes your whole being when you hear the familiar sound of the knob locking.

Jungkook pivoted back, facing you. “Let’s talk here.”

Your eyes lingered down where his hand maintained his grasp around your wrist. “Why? There’s nothing else to talk about.”

“For the umpteenth time, I saw the landlord across the street like he was waiting for someone,”

You look up, quirking up an eyebrow at his sudden shot of a subject relating to Seokjin. “What’s your point?”

“I don’t trust him.” He deduces, childishly.

“What do you want me to do, find another leasing property? This shouldn’t concern you in the first place. You never once heard anything from me about Joohyun.” You mentally cursed, unable to stop yourself from mentioning the name of the woman he was seen in a restaurant a week ago.

“What’s Joohyun got anything to do with this?”

You scoff. “You know what, I don’t need to answer that. We’re not together anymore so it’s none of my business.”

Jungkook seized your attempt to leave, latching onto your arm just in time. As he pulls you back, you were met with the subtle amusement plastered obnoxiously on his face.

“We’re not done here, baby. So... Joohyun, really? My colleague?” A laugh slips out of him, seemingly pleased. You, on the other hand, felt insulted on his take of your serious remark. Your blood started rising up. So the rumors aren’t true?

You jerked away. Well... tried to, because your hand stayed locked around his firm grip. “Let me go, I need to go back to the kitchen.”

You stepped back when he abruptly inched forward. You were puzzled for a second, but when your back touched the surface of the door, you knew you fell from his trap as he steadied himself with his palms pressed flat above your head. You turned your face away, avoiding his heated gaze. But the gesture only gave Jungkook a room to nestle his head on the exposed skin of your neck.

The moment you felt his warm lips touch your skin, you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’ve been pretty good at keeping a safe distance from me, baby. You have no idea how much  I fucking miss you, missed keeping you all to myself like this.” He expresses in a thick, sultry tone.

You shake your head, knowing full well what he meant. “We c-cant, Jimin is--”

“--not here.” He finishes, pressing his lower body against yours and teasing your sweet spot with a gentle suck. The bulge on his mid-region was enough to make your panties wet instantaneously and your body heats up too quickly.

“Jungkook,” his name slips out of your mouth.

“Please tell me you’re still in birth control.” He desperately murmurs against your skin on the curve of your neck.

You frantically bobbed your head, lost at the hot trail of kisses he’s leaving on your skin.

With an eager pull of the strings on his nape and back, he rids the apron off of his front followed by a swift pull of his sweatpants with his boxers, just enough to release his hard member.

Your mouth instantaneously watered at the sight of the maddeningly pink head and aroused length, thick and hard just the way you remembered it the last time Jungkook fucked you. It happened in his car three months ago. You were too intoxicated then to control yourself from jumping up into his lap as he drove you back to your apartment. To keep your pride intact, you tried to steer clear from repeating the same mistake again. Not when you’re not officially back together.

Right now, you’re too sexually neglected to care about anything.

“I want you in my mouth,” you beg, not believing you sounded incredibly hasty than you actually have estimated.

He swats your hand off when he sensed your hand extending towards his crotch, “I’d love to fuck your mouth baby, but we don’t have that much time. I need to be inside your pussy,” You felt his palms scooping you up through your butt, sandwiching you between his body and the door. Your legs automatically weaving around his hips to steady yourself.

Then pushes your underwear aside, “This is probably the only reason why I love you wearing skirts. Easy access—fuck baby, so tight.” He barely sank his cock in, yet you could already feel the sting of your walls as they stretch around him.

Your hand flew to the back of head, eager to bury your fingers beneath his curly locks.

Just as you part your mouth to speak to encourage more his entrance, he suddenly propels his hips forward, pushing his dick to the hilt which roused a cry from you.

“Fucking tight! I’m gonna break you so much you won’t ever forget about me. You understand, darling?”

“Yes, yes, please fuck me!” You cried out, reeling from both the sting of your muscles caused by his forceful entrance, and the familiar warmth filling you full.

Without bothering to warm you up, he began a breathtaking pace despite his overwhelming intrusion. You didn’t mind, though. In fact, his thrusts were making your moans irrepressible and your thighs tremble in delight.

Jungkook places his head between the valleys of your covered mounds, not missing his faint grunts, lost in his own pleasure.

“You like that, huh? You like the idea of being fucked outside, baby girl? I’ve had enough this bullshit,” He growls with a series of rough jerk of his hips, forcing a cry of his name out of you.

“That’s right, moan my name. Just wait until I get you all alone tonight, I’ll make sure you won’t ever think of breaking up with me. Do you hear me?” He warns darkly, emphasizing the severity of his threat with a shove of his dick so deep his tip was heavenly kissing your precious spot from your insides.

“Oh god,” you lamented, deliriously.

You could already feel the building up in your abdomen just as fast as he started rocking into you. You’ve known him long enough for you to easily sense it was the same for him too, concealing his moans with his mouth latched onto your prickly skin.

“That’s right. Come for me!” he grunted in between powerful thrusts.

His command did the trick, sending your body forward as you exploded, your walls tighten around him with each snap of his hips against your pelvis. Soon enough, he jerked off his load inside you with a growl rumbling on his chest.

Grimace creases on your expression as he cautiously pulls his cock out, following his load combined with your juices gushing out of your pussy down to the insides of your thighs.

Barely recovered from the earth shattering orgasm you had for the first time in three months, you heard a series of banging coming from the other side of the door.

“You done, lovebirds?” Your eyes clenched shut in realization, quietly plotting the assassination of some guy named Jimin.

“Thanks for ruining the moment,” Jungkook retorts back. “Not a problem. You guys seriously need to get the fuck out, I ran out of beans in the jar and try not fuck each other here next time, yeah?”

Amused with the scene unfolding, Jungkook casually pushes your underwear back to its place, smoothening your skirt down as if nothing inappropriate had occurred here. He kisses the tip of your nose, before turning the knob of the door.

Couldn’t this get any more embarrassing?

~~~

Thank you for reading and apologies for any spelling/ grammatical errors. I havent edited this yet.  Part 2 will most likely be posted on Monday or Tuesday :)