#I'm a sit quietly until I can leave without it being rude person

[imwritesometimes]

played my first game of cards against humanity today. absolutely hated it. don't really truly understand how it ever became like a Thing. bowed out respectfully after 2 hands.

[basu-shokikita]

Dethentines 2024 Day 2

Inspired by a Classic Romance Movie

I was having a hard time coming up with a movie for today's prompt because I'm not much for romantic movies...until my friend reminded me of Twilight, which is both cursed and a formative movie for me. Additionally, I had already thought of a Skwistok Twilight AU so this was the perfect chance for it. 😜

I'm doing a re-imagining of Bella and Edward's infamous first meeting because it's straight up one of my favorite scenes of the movie, it's just too funny. So, anyway, enjoy whatever this is!! 😂😂

Toki reluctantly walked into the classroom, unsure if he had the right one. When he saw the tubes and all the other scientific parafernalia, he let out a sigh of relief. This was definitely biology class.

“Oh, hey!” A middle-aged balding man approached him. He looked friendly and shook his hand right away. “You’re the new kid, right? I’m Mr. Ramirez, your new biology teacher.”

“Ah!” Toki didn’t expect the physical contact, though he wasn’t against it. Mr. Ramirez had a warm hand. “Nice to meets you Mrs. Raysmires, ams Toki-”

“We saved you a spot, Toki!” Mr. Ramirez pointed at an empty . “You can sit right next to Mr. Skwigelf, I’m sure he’ll be friendly. Right, Mr. Skwigelf?” Before receiving any kind of response, he turned to Toki. “Welcome to the class, Mr. Wartooth.” He said and finally let go of Toki.

When Toki glanced at his table partner with hesitation, the words from earlier replayed in his mind.

That’s Skwisgaar Skwigelf. Hottest boy at the school. Probably the most arrogant one, too. He is completely unfriendly and won’t let anyone that isn’t one of his weird little friends approach him. Don’t even try being nice to him, he’ll totally ignore you.

Toki bit his bottom lip, self-absorbed in rumination. Suddenly, he felt a breeze from behind him and turned to look at the fan pointing at him. When he returned his attention to the table, he saw that the Skwisgaar guy had covered his nose and mouth, glaring at Toki with unbridled anger. His free hand was tightly clenched on the table, and he looked away with a deep frown.

Panicked, Toki sniffed his own armpit, wondering if he smelled bad. Okay, he should’ve probably remembered to use deodorant before leaving for school, but it wasn’t so bad. He still remembered to shower this morning and everything. Maybe this person was a neat freak or something.

Trying not to feel affected, Toki walked to his table without paying too much attention. However, the minute he sat on his chair, the guy recoiled against his corner. As if Toki’s presence was too much to bear. That was kind of rude and honestly pretty uncalled for, even for a neat freak.

And yet, when he turned to at least give a judgemental stare to his table partner, he found him scowling back at him. Pitch black eyes pierced into his soul, trembling so faintly that Toki wouldn’t have noticed if it wasn’t for the shaking fingers on the table. His lips, his nose, his eyebrows, even his sharp cheeks…every feature on his face was filled with pure disgust towards Toki. The disheveled golden hair only served as some kind of curtain to present the most disdainful stare Toki had received in his life. 

Despite his better efforts, Toki felt his eyes sting a little. Everyone had been pretty nice to him so far, nobody had bullied him or made fun of his looks, so he should be happy. He should be happy his first day had been going so well. And yet, this hostility was tearing him apart. What had he done to this man he didn’t even know to elicit such a reaction from him? Should he look for another table? Should he leave this class? Should he…

And then, the blond pushed the paper sheet towards Toki. Carefully, as if he was trying his best not to come in contact with Toki, but still. Somehow, that gesture made him relieved. At least, he wasn’t being kicked out, no matter how much this guy seemed to despise him.

“Thank yous…” He said quietly and the guy just closed his eyes almost dramatically in response. It was a little funny, but maybe he needed help. “Um…” Toki tried to move closer. “Ams you okays?”

Skwisgrab opened his eyes at once and stared at Toki like he was crazy, shrinking against his corner like a wounded animal. He opened his mouth but no seconds came out for a few seconds. Then, he tried again. “Don’ts.” His voice was deep, serious and honestly pretty attractive.

“Okays!” Toki said before moving back with his chair. 

“Alright, kids, settle down!” Mr. Ramirez exclaimed, clasping his hands together. “Class is about to begin! Today, we’re studying…”

Toki tried to pay attention for a good whole minute before all the scientific terms got lost on him. He had never been the best with biology anyway. As subtle as he could, he took another glance at Skwisargs. 

The guy was still evidently repulsed, although he was making an effort to conceal it while he listened to the class. And it made Toki be able to see his face better. They weren’t kidding, Skwisgarp was really attractive with the rockstar mane, the long eyelashes, sharp features and full lips. Even his white teeth slightly peeking from under his upper lip were pearly white and…was that a fang?

Skwisgruel glared at him and Toki turned away, feeling his cheeks heat up. He tried to listen to the teacher, but the way Skwisgare crumpled the paper was infinitely more interesting and he couldn’t help stealing another glance at him. Long and slender fingers were wrapped around the abused paper sheet and Toki wondered how someone's skin could be so pale.

When he raised his eyes, he found the guy grimacing at him though it wasn’t just disgust in his eyes anymore, the confusion was apparent too. Whereas before he seemed intimidating and almost menacing, now he appeared weirdly cornered by Toki’s curiosity. And, in all fairness, it’s not like Toki could explain it either, so he pretended to pay attention to some random spot on his table.

The class went excruciatingly slow, with Toki fighting, and repeatedly failing, not to gaze at the handsome and bizarre stranger next to him and said stranger looking off put by him. By the time the bell rang, it felt like a million years had gone by, and Skwisgark dashed away with his bag in a hurry without even letting Mr. Ramirez finish. Toki observed the worn out black boots he was wearing, as his heels disappeared through the door frame. By the time he stood outside the door to take a peak, Skwisgerm’s silhouette was nowhere in sight.

Dangerous, was the first word Toki thought of, when trying to define this person. Like this was the kind of guy his parents would warn him against. And, yet, Toki felt an unshakeable need to know more about him.

Just who was he?

[george-in-hell]

@hollowsart

Thought/ Plot line for Mysterio's Comic book

Alright, so the main character/hollowsart is going to be like a carnival or like a Halloween related thing. Because you know for entertainment, and just making sure everyone is safe and stuff, (since Peter did that I'm pretty sure on his down time) It isn't exactly her thing until The Magnificent Mysterio comes on or she finds him. I'm not sure if he was supposed to be like those girls that try to guess what your future is gonna be like.

And he pointedly looks at her. Like all the time! (Also just a reminder I was thinking about this in class, and this was in my point of view, and I'm horrible at translation) Anyways, you/she walks over to him and sits down, or more magnificent and dramatic like what I was assuming you would like, he calls you out from the audience and S-M/O is like "no! Please no!" Is still pushed up there, and is like an assistant.

Anyways both should end with some crappy made up line like, "you seem like you're hiding something from your friends and family," and it's just a one liner he made on the spot.So anyways after the show/after her hand is touched and future is like figured out, she leaves straight after. And like she goes back to wherever she lives. And if this is like before otto turns into doctor octopus, and hates okay maybe not hate people, but like can't really tolerate them, because he's realized how much he's been used and stuff. I have a feeling like your Sloth would go over there, and talk to him about how it felt weird, and how they don't like going to places like that for that exact reason. Anxiety things, I feel like they can both relate together with how they don't like being touched. (Definitely not projecting on your projection) anyways, then after she leaves Otto she meets Beck, and he's like, "Oh! I recognize you!" And she's like "WHHhaaa," totally and understandably confused on why this attractive guy knows who she is. And then he clears it up, "Oh right sorry! I'm Mysterio! Well actually my name is Quentin Beck, but Mysterio is my side job and all, I actually wanted to talk to you!"

Sloth is incredulous once again on why he'd ever wanna talk with her. So like after possibly a Coffee date or just a coffee outing with a stranger, they say goodbye and the next time she sees him is when she's her slothy-person and he's actually making trouble. The thought is "Oh come on! Each and every person I see always turns out to be a villain, and I genuinely liked him!" So (real quick I'm about to get really confusedly,) he does a little thing where he jumps off a maybe 3 foot ledge, and quietly congratulates himself for making it down without breaking his knees. Anyways, he says, "AH YES, *cough* I WAS WONDERing when I'd get the pleasure of meeting you," and then he does a little bow. (HEEHEHHE) Normal people are not used to being yelled at like this, but Mysterio is a drama kid and this is kinda his talent. And plus Slothy-person is used to being yelled at like this, because yk other villains are really excited or expecting for it to be an easy fight. Which it never is, most of the time. "Well that's kind of rude! You're supposed to say something to someone when they welcome you!" He is annoyed."hi-," Slothy-person says and then is hit by one of those crystal balls, but they're kind of like water balloons except they are spheres. And the liquid inside of them hurt. Kind of like when you accidentally touch a hot pan when you make grilled cheese. He then looks at you, probably in a way like you could do better than that! "So! What's your story? Why are you here? I bet that I'll understand." He says, probably trying to distract you and hit your face with the glass ball. (IT'S NOT ACTUAL GLASS!!! It's like a silicone that looks like glass and it breaks like it, but in reality it's quite soft, it's made by Oscorp!) You then respond with something witty, and then he drops a ball in front of him the size of a tennis ball and it's like a green goblin purple. And then you feel strange, (alright so I don't know if you've played the marvels spiderman game before, but) it's basically like when the scorpion hits Peter with his tail and makes him see things. Like Otto, and those huge tails, and the green lake in the middle of the city. Except instead of Otto it's Mysterio, and he's asking all these weird questions. They're basically all like, "Who are you?", "Who do you think you are?", "Are you feeling alright?", And "what's your story, dear hero?" Then it's all that stuff where a Slothy-person is getting out of the whole thing and one of the things they have to pass is a dancing test, like mid-1800's slow dancing. (Heeh brain rot make people dance) And after you pass that you're on the floor with Mysterio over you, not facing you and he is declaring how great he is and that there is no hero no longer. (This is reality!!!) Then you get up and knock on his fish-bowl head, and he turns around and then you sucker-punch him where his mouth would be and he's on the floor. He's kinda loopy, but he's awake! So you leave letting the cops get him, sadly I know, but sometimes you just gotta be a Slothy-person. Anyways it ends with Slothy-person not in disguise at the coffee shop they went to with Mysterio, and sits at the same place and orders something. The last scene is just them sitting there idly tapping their foot on the ground.

alright so I may have not know the pronouns of your OC and went on a rampage. I assume they're a girl? When I was imagining it, it was me and I looked like your OC except for I was a guy.

[dreaminlittlenightmares]

Writing prompt, the Lady and the Thin Man have to pretend they're married for some reason.

Spy x Family, got it! :'D

I also had to write this like four times because the third version poofed and vanished

Title: Happy Wife, Happy Life Word Count: 1457 Characters: the Lady, the Thin Man CW: Mild Language Use

"How long do we have a stay here?" the Lady asked, looking up at the tall, mahogany door with intricate carvings. "If it was up to me, 10 minutes," the Thin Man replied tiredly. He was invited to attend a party that was supposedly in his honor, and was asked to bring a guest. He was surprised that the Lady readily agreed, especially with her busy schedule. But, it wasn't until they were getting ready and coming over that the Thin Man realized he actually didn't want to attend the party. "Or, however long it takes me to thank the host. After that's done, we can leave." "With your height, that shouldn't take long," the Lady snickered, "I hope nobody recognizes me." She looked down at her long black evening gown, smoothing out the wrinkles nervously. It felt weird to be wearing something else besides her beautiful kimonos, even more so without her haunting white mask. She felt naked without it.

"I doubt anyone will, dearest." The Thin Man bent down and brushed a finger gently against her cheek. She still looked beautiful, but he knew she was uncomfortable without it. "Ten minutes. I promise." The Lady nodded shyly and turned to face the door again. Thin Man nodded back and knocked.

It didn't take long for someone to answer. A stout, red-faced man with beady eyes opened the door and looked up at the Thin Man first. "You're here!" he shouted with surprise. "Uh, yes! I am!" The Thin Man was taken by surprise, too. He wasn't expecting the Host to appear so soon. "And that must be the plus one you mentioned." The Host peered back behind the Thin Man, where the Lady was hiding quietly. She waved shyly from the shadows. The Thin Man almost missed the statement. "Oh, uh...t-this is my lovely wife-" "She's so pretty!" the Host interrupted, "And young? Never thought you'd be that type of man, Broadcaster. But, I suppose the younger ones have finer, tighter attributes, huh?" That last comment made the Thin Man bite his tongue. "Come, come! We're just getting started. Everyone here is eager to meet the man behind the silver screens."

The Host greedily yanked the Thin Man inside the party-packed house. The Thin Man looked back to the Lady, but he was already too far in to see her and it remained that way for most of the evening. The Host wasn't kidding when he said everyone at the party wanted to meet the legendary Broadcaster of Pale City. It seemed that every time they stopped to talk to someone, that person eagerly shook the Thin Man's hand or took a picture with him. It was exhausting...and rude. The Thin Man barely had any say in the matter, no much how he wanted to object. 

Finally, after a few hours of being pulled and tugged everywhere, the Thin Man finally escaped and found the Lady sitting by herself in a semi-crowded corner of the house.

"It's been much longer than ten minutes, dear," she said calmly, noticing the tiredness on his sharp, bony face.

"I'm sorry," he apologized at once, "But, I'm ready to go whenever you are."

"BROADCASTER!" The Thin Man jumped at the booming voice of the Host. "There you are! Come! Some of the execs want a word with you." The Host wedged his way over looking redder and sloppier than before. The Thin Man could smell the alcohol on him.

"Sir," the Lady stood up from her seat, "My dear husband has a long day at the studio tomorrow. I think it's time for me to get him home so he can get a full night's rest, for once." The Thin Man darted his eyes over to her, then back to the Host and nodded frantically. It was a convincing lie, and once he'll have to thank the Lady for later.The Host ignored her.

"Bah, shut your mouth, woman! The man can do whatever he wants."

The Thin Man didn't take the insult lightly. He curled his hand into a fist with sparks of blue electricity racing around him. The Lady sensed his anger quickly and hooked her arm around his to calm him down. "I think it's time for us to leave. Don't you think, dearest?" She looked up at the Thin Man with a placid expression, but her eyes told him another message. "Don't..."

The Thin Man took in a deep breath. "The misses wants to head out, and I'm not one to say 'no' to her." He bowed his head slightly and turned around to leave with the Lady in arm.

"Oh, I see," the Host hummed, "Can't wait to get her home to bed, huh? I get it. But, you know? There are a few spare rooms here. I can tell the execs to wait a bit."

The Thin Man stopped dead in his tracks. His anger grew, only made apparent when the lights in the house started to flicker. The Lady clung harder to his arm. "Don't," she warned.

"This man insults you twice in front of me, and you're going to allow him to live?" he whispered back hotly.

"But you know," the Host continued with slurring words, "I never believed in that 'happy wife, happy life,' thing. The wife should be grateful for all the work we do. They don't know what real work is, am I right? Cooking and cleaning is nothing like dealing with incompetency, am I right!? Bitches don't know what grind is really like, lazy little whores." 

The Thin Man turned on the Host fast, but the Lady was faster. She patted his arm lightly, then took a step forward to the Host. "You have a wife then, sir?" she asked sweetly, calmly.

"For 10 years!"

"10 wasted years, then." The Lady smiled coldly as the room went quiet. "The amount of work she must have to deal with your incompetency, sir. Cleaning up after a man who's so weak and lazy, undoubtedly the grind broken him to drink more than he can handle. A tiny, little man doesn't even deserve her and her happiness." The Lady took a confident step closer to the Host. "Careful with your wife, sir. I have no doubt that she knows a thing or three around the kitchen, especially if she thinks about serving you for dinner." The Lady smiled once again at the Host and inclined her head politely to leave. She turned back around to see the Thin Man smiling proudly.

"Y-You!" The Host lunged at the Lady. "You little bitch!" He raised thick, stubby hand at her, but the Thin Man dashed forward and caught it in a vice grip.

"Now, is that any way for a gentlemen to treat a lady?" he asked sternly.

"You're gonna let this-"

"I am," the Thin Man answered quickly, "I'm sure my darling wife doesn't need my help, but I'm sure as hell happy to make her happy doing so. Happy wife, happy life." He shoved the Host to the tile ground effortlessly. "Thank you for inviting us. We'll be leaving now. Long day tomorrow...among other things." The Thin Man walked back to the Lady and offered his arm to her again. The Lady took it, and the two pair left the silent house heads head high.

Once outside and well away from the house, the Thin Man let go of the Lady's arm and sighed. "Well done destroying that asshole, as always, my dear..."

"Thank you."

"But, that was exhausting. No more parties, unless we actually know the people. Not doing that again." The Thin Man hung his head in fatigue. All he wanted to do now was go home.

"You poor thing." The Lady stepped in front of the Thin Man and reached for his face. "That was nothing. I deal with that more often than you know. It's always rewarding to see their face when I verbally wreck them."

"Really?" The Thin Man perked up. "Your Guests are stupid enough to try you on the Maw?"

"If I was in a bad mood, I would have used my dark magic. Now, I'm just interested in getting you home and using a different kind of magic on you." The Lady booped his nose playfully, while give him an alluring look.

The Thin Man lit up instantly. "With my influence and your charms, this world could be ours."

"Not sure if that was a marriage proposal or a business one, but yes...to both." The Lady snickered lightly to herself as she walked off without him. The Thin Man paused, heart racing. It was one of those, but he wasn't sure which one. Too bad he didn't have a ring on him...

[snowiemimi]

RAIN STORM [Aaron Hotchner x FM! Reader] CHAPTER 1

SUMMARY: Hotch is not very nice to her, and she will not sit there and take critisism. Enemies to lovers, will eventually be smutty, yeaaa

A/N: this is the first chapter of my first Hotch fic and I hope it is to someones liking ehehe.. I've worked really hard on it and i hope it turned out good!! I'm working on more chapters and more fics (wohoo) so watch out!!!

please leave comments and feedback!

NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION (she/her pronouns are used)

WARNINGS: swearing, bickering, some mean comments.. (please tell me if i forgot something)

word count : 1.3k (it’s a short one :// )

She was new at the BAU, sure, but she was not ‘NEW’ at the BAU. She had been there for almost a year already, but when Hotch told her she could not join on the next case because she was not ‘ready yet’, she snapped at him. Is it smart to snap at your boss? No. Did he get very pale and flustered? Also no, come on, it was Hotch we were talking about. But he did get surprised. As did the other team members in the room.

The past year, he had treated her as a kid. Yes, she was young. And not to mention fresh out of the academy at 22, the youngest person to join the BAU, beating Spencer by a whole 2 months. But that did NOT mean she was stupid. She would not have made it this far if she was.

He was the one accepting her on to the team, he knew she was exceptionally smart, yet he still talked to her like she could not even dress herself.

And in no way shape or form would she accept that kind of treatment.

“I’ve been on this team for almost a year, Hotch, you know damn well I can work a case. I’ve done it before, and I WILL do it again.” The other team members were watching intensely. Hotch was now standing up from his chair, not a single emotion displayed on his face. Garcia also got up, carefully, seemed as to not disturb the tension in the meeting room. “Very sorry to interrupt, but Sir, she is right...” Hotch’s head snapped towards her so fast it could have fallen off. Penelope shrunk back in her chair, terrified of the big boss man.

“Give me one good reason for letting you work on this case.” He said firmly. She was confused, what did she do to deserve to not work the case. So, she asked him that. He chuckled, not even bothering answering the question. The others seemed shocked, Emily quickly jumping up to defend her. “I don’t think we can do a good job without her; we need her brains.” Hotch shook his head disapprovingly, “she’s not that special.”

After a solid 30 minutes of arguing, he gave up and let her work the case. She left the room still confused, but not about to let the comment get to her. She knew her worth; a man could not convince her otherwise. The rest of the time spent waiting for the jet, the team was talking and checking in on her just in case.

When JJ announced the plane was ready to leave, every team member sat down in their preferred spot. Hers conveniently far away from the unit chief. Next to her sat Spencer, quietly asking if they could play a game of chess while they waited for Garcia to call to talk about the case. She said yes with a small smile, at least this was normal.

Hotch very rudely ignored her the best he could the remainder of the flight, until he had to talk to her for updates.

After the team got set up in one of the conference rooms, she got started on the geographical profile alongside Spencer. Both knew very well Spencer could do it by himself, but Hotch was still sour about letting her work and she was not in the mood to argue any more than she already had.

Even though the work was limited at this point of the case, she had a decent time with Spencer. He was one of her best friends and being the closest to her age wise was just a plus. She did not know many people her age who had the same ‘gifts’ as her, even if she would not really call them gifts. A lot of people saw her quick wits and high IQ as a threat, and when people feel threatened, it is not quite easy making friends.

Derek walked into the room, muttering something in his phone before he put it on speaker. On the other side of the line was Garcia with some update on the victim. She caught herself not paying attention, her mind occupied with her angry boss. Before she lost any more important information, she had told herself to do the best she could to solve this case, to prove Hotch how competent she was for the job.

When Rossi came back from the crime scene with Emily, he spent a good 10 minutes trying to calm down the grieving family of the victim. Before he could explain to the family how exactly they were to catch the unsub, Hotch walked in with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes only looking at her.

Her knees were weak, not in a good way, when he called her name. “You’re coming with me on a stakeout.” Derek chuckled behind her. “What.” She said, before realizing how fun it would be to torment him in a car… Alone.

Taking the FBI SUV for a stakeout would be stupid, it would attract too much attention, so they borrowed an unused dark blue family car. They spent the next few hours sitting in a middle-class neighborhood, watching a grey house.

She broke the silence after a while; “why did you want me to sit on a stakeout with you? You could’ve chosen someone else. Anyone else.” He let out a low laugh, “Because” he started, now looking into her eyes with a small smile on his face. “you’re the most entertaining.”

Confused, her eyebrows furrowed. “Entertaining?” He looked back out to the now gloomy street. “Yeah.” He simply said, and she shrugged it off. He was clearly playing some kind of game, and she was not into it.

They were eating Chinese food, waiting for any kind of action or sign to get out of the suffocating car. “Why do you eat like that” she said, deadpanning. “Like what?” He looked at her, “Like a fucking pig, you’re supposed to put your food in your mouth, not on the car floor.” She made a disgusted face, motioning to the seat and floor around him covered in lettuce and sauce. “Why do you care how I eat? You can’t even do your job right”

“Well, you can’t even be professional at work. Some kind of unit chief the BAU has, right?” He gasped audibly. “You’re a brat, you know that?” She laughed at his comment. “I’ve been told before, yes.”

His phone rang in his pocket, Rossi was giving updates. They knew who the unsub was. Hotch started the car and drove back to the station to get ready to make the arrest.

After successfully catching the unsub, the plane ride home was quiet. Spencer was asleep, Derek was listening to music and Hotch was dividing the paperwork to give when everyone got back to the bureau. She was sat reading her favorite fantasy novel.

Back at the bureau, the work had been put on each desk, the team collectively groaned as they sat down to finish up the case. Hotch was sitting in his office, writing up his own report.

“4 folders of this? Geez, this wasn’t even a big one?” Spencer groaned on the other side of the wall divider. “4?! Why do I have 7?” She said loudly. The other members laughed, “because you’re getting on his nerves, sweetie.” Derek answered.

An hour later, the bullpen was empty, except for her who just finished her 7th folder. She made her way up towards her boss’ office and walked in without knocking. He jumped slightly, looking up annoyed at her. “You fucker, why did you give me more work than the rest?”

“Because I enjoy watching you suffer.”

[shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean]

ONLY WANT YOU.

Pairing : Shawn Mendes × reader

Genre : Angst, smut, fluff

Warnings : Swearing, Daddy kink, thigh riding, unprotected sex, dom!Shawn, Self depreciation(very mild), oral (male receiving)

Summary : The reader and Shawn have an intense argument and then Shawn let's the reader know who's the one he wants.

You were more than worried now. It had been precisely 2 hours 14 minutes since Shawn left. You really managed to send him over the edge. You didn't want to. You didn't mean it. But you can't help it when all of the world is pining for what's not true. He's yours but no, everyone wants him and camila to be together.

Camila was such a lovely lady. You couldn't help but feel insecure. She was everything you'd want to be. Hell, she was beautiful and the worst part you wanted to hate her but you couldn't. She had that aura.

You and Shawn were in it for long. That's what you thought at least. You knew he was the one for you. And you believed you were too for him until recently.

Ever since the PR began after Senorita was out you couldn't help but question everything. Your bond with Shawn seemed to weaken. You found yourself distancing from him. You didn't want to. You never did. Everytime you saw an article in some shitty tabloid your breath got caught. You felt you couldn't breathe. You knew it was fake but guess these two were really good actors cause it didn't seem unreal it to you.

You tried to calm yourself. Remind yourself you were overanalysing the sitch. He is your boyfriend. He will be home soon. Then you can be in his strong arms and feel safe and secure. But none of it worked.

All this while, since the PR managers suggested this, Shawn had made sure to get you involved. Let you be a part of everything that's been happening or is going to in future. Make sure you're comfortable with it. And boy, did you say yes cause you didn't wanna hold him down. But now when he was not with you for the holidays, when he had to fly out every weekend to Miami you felt your nerves kick in.

You hated yourself for being such a hypocrite. Shawn never once made you feel secluded but your overthinker ass ravaged everything.

You were certain he hated you now. This was the longest you two had gone without talking after that intense a fight.

Shawn was back home after three months. You were so excited for him to be with you for a whole week now, until you saw that article. You knew it meant nothing but seeing your boyfriend sticking his tongue down another women's throat got the best of you. You didn't think it was going to affect you so bad when you said yes to the whole PR stuff but now you just didn't know how to feel.

You never told Shawn when your anxiety kicked in seeing him with her because you didn't want to seem like a hypocrite. But weren't you one?

You just suffered quietly. Tried to let it pass. It'd end soon. That's how you always calmed your raging nerves. You became quieter. Stopped being your bubbly self when Shawn called. He obviously noticed. He knew you better than you yourself. He just couldn't figure the issue cause you had so convincingly persuaded him to believe you were fine with it all.

"Hun, I'm home. " Shawn said as he closed the door after settling his luggage beside the shoe cabinet right at the entrance of your shared apartment.

When he got no response he was stressed. He expected you to pounce on him as soon as he opened the gate but there was no sign of you.

He kicked his shoes off and then remembered how it'd annoy you so much, laughed to himself and went back to put them in the cabinet before calling out for you again.

"Y/N, baby I'm home. "

He checked the living room. You weren't there. The kitchen next. No sign of you anywhere. He didn't expect you to be asleep cause it was just 7 and you were a night owl getting all pumped with energy as the clock hit 6 pm. This was your best time of the day and Shawn certainly had decided to make the best of it but you were nowhere to be found.

He wouldn't lie he was disappointed when you didn't fling yourself into his arms and peppered his face with cute wet kisses and were all clingy and lovey with him. He missed you so much.

He went to your bedroom, your shared room. Checked the whole house but there was no sign of you. He felt all that excitement dial down.

He decided to call you, obviously.

You didn't pick up.

He was worried now. He called your best friend cause you usually liked to hangout with her at evenings like this, discussing your medical school stuff and just chilling at times. She didn't pick up either. He called your mom and she told him that you were out with Y/F/N and she thought that he already knew.

Shawn was more than upset. He felt a little angry because you had been acting so not yourself and this was the least he could expect from you. There was something wrong obviously but why wouldn't you talk to him. Every time he tried to talk, you'd just make some excuse. He was tired now and this was what sent him over the edge. He tried calling you after an hour again. Just to get back a text saying "I'll be home late. Dinner's in the fridge. Don't wait for me. "

He was pissed off. Really bad.

You came home around 10:30 at night. You knew this wasn't fair to Shawn. After you saw that article you just couldn't. You had to let some seam off. Y/F/N called you and asked you if you'd wanna come to a small party they were throwing for Tom, a batchmate of yours Shawn had a huge disliking towards. Tom had asked you out cause he didn't know you had a boyfriend and he made it very clear that he liked you a lot. Shawn didn't take that well, obviously. He hated Tom's guts.

You wanted to get on his nerves after seeing the article. So you did.

You put on your sexiest one piece Shawn got for you year on your graduation day. The nerve of you. You informed your mom cause you knew Shawn would call her as you didn't plan on picking up his phone.

You opened the door with your key. The click noise made Shawn wake up from his light slumber.

You knew you had pulled off real shit and well consequences weren't gonna be good.

As you went inside. You saw the food was out on the counter but untouched. Shawn was in the living room, glaring at you.

"Where were you, Y/N? " He asked you with a voice dangerously low sending chills down your spine.

But heh you had enough liquid courage to be a douche at this point.

"Hello to you too. " You said in a rude tone.

"I said where the fuck were you, Y/N? It's been three goddamn hours. I have been so stressed what the hell is wrong with you. You didn't even care to tell me yourself. What the fuck?" He snapped at you moving towards you in the kitchen where you were pouring some water for yourself.

" I was at Tom's birthday party with Y/F/N." You said non chalantly.

His eyes shot up. Going wide.

" So you decided to go to that fucker's party instead of being with me. I'm home after three fucking months for fuck's sake." He yelled from across the counter.

You flinched hearing his tone but snapped right back. "Well what am I supposed to do Shawn? Sit here like a fool while you stick your tongue down her throat. All I see are pictures of you two making out every fucking where so am I just supposed to fucking wait for you after getting ten thousand notifications showing my boyfriend and his fucking girlfriend!? "

He took in a deep breath as if to not do anything wrong. The change on his face was scary. He just went from angry and worried to nothing. His face went expressionless. The tension getting thicker with every passing second.

You realised how wrong you were instantly. Hands flying to cover your mouth. " Shawn, i-... I am.. I didn't mean it. Bab-"

"You fucking meant it, Y/N. I can't even. You've got to be kidding me. " He took his Jeep's keys and headed for the gate. You tried to stop him by touching his shoulder but the look he gave you made you feel disgusted with yourself. He slammed the gate as he went out. Tears made their way down your cheeks smudging all your make up.

You sank down right where you were beside the kitchen counter. You hated yourself in this moment more than you ever had. The one person who always put your needs first, cared for you more than himself, you managed to make him hate you. You were certain he did.

You ran took your phone called Shawn. Over and over again. 5 calls went unanswered. You were perturbed. Didn't know what to do. Didn't know where he could be. You wanted to just be in his arms. You didn't deserve it but you felt home. His arms were your home. And you just ruined it all. Your baseless insecurities did.

You sat there helpless, loathing yourself. You don't know when sleep took over you. When you woke up it was 12. You got up in haste, drowning in worry. It had been an hour and a half since he left. You called him again and again to no avail. You lost the best thing you ever had and you knew you wouldn't be able to live with yourself after what you did.

You decided leaving was the best. He anyway wouldn't want you near him. Shawn deserved the world. He deserved the best. And then there was you who gave him nothing but hurled insults at him.

Tears didn't stop flowing at a point you felt you didn't have anymore left but you were wrong. You went up to your bedroom. Taking out a suitcase. You didn't want to bother him more. You weren't worth it.

You put in your essentials in the bag, moving to the closet after that. You changed into one of your hoodies. It was his. All of your clothes were basically his. You needed to wear them to feel home when he wasn't around. He loved them on you but now you weren't so sure. You anyway did it. One hoodie wouldn't upset him.

As you were done packing you checked the time it was over 2 hours. You wanted to die right at this moment. Shawn was not picking up your calls. You called Geoff earlier, he had no idea where Shawn was. Now you decided to call Karen. You didn't know what to do. You had already asked Andrew if Shawn was at the studio. You didn't want to stress everywhere cause Shawn didn't get mad easily but when he did it was bad. Extremely bad.

Just as you were about to call Karen you felt yourself being turned around, moved towards the closet door, a pair of strong arms pulling you and then his warm swollen lips being attached to yours. You melted right then. You didn't know how to respond. You couldn't believe it. Were you dreaming? But as you let it sink in, it was your Shawn kissing you. His smell invaded your senses making you feel alive again. Those lips moulded with yours felt like heaven. Tears made their way out of your eyes again. Lips starting to move against his. Hands going into his hair tugging at it as he devoured you. You didn't realize he was crying too until you opened your eyes. His eyes blood shot, cheeks tear stained. You hated you were the reason for his disheveled state. You hated yourself.

You broke the kiss. Not being able to look him in the eyes. Trying to catch your breath.

After a few minutes of total silence you figured this was goodbye. You started moving towards your suitcase.

As he saw what you were doing he let out a loud groan. He wanted to knock some sense into you and he decided he will.

He held your arm pulling you towards himself, asking with a hoarse voice "Where do you think you are going? "

"I'm sorry, Shawn. I just....you deserve better. I'll leave, I wanted to ask you if I can take this one hoodie? If you want it back I understand. I just didn't mean to hurt you. I didn't mean anything I said earlier. It just I was a little drunk you know it's I'm so terribly sorry. " You rambled didn't realising when you started sobbing.

You felt his arms wrap around you. Engulfing you in a loving hug. You broke down. He was still being so considerate when all you did was break his heart.

"Shush honey. Y/N, I am right here. You're not going anywhere."

"I am sorry. So sorry. I-.. I'll leave. "

"Baby, I said you are not going anywhere. I need you hun. You remember, it's forever." He said in his beautiful voice showing you his promise ring. The one you got him three months back. Just before he left.

You looked up at him through your crys. You wanted to see if he hated you or not. He could lie to you but his eyes could never. To your surprise all you saw was worry and love. A sense of relief washed over you. You released a breath you didn't know you were holding all this while.

"I love you baby. We are okay. I'm sorry I shouldn't have left like this."

"No no no Shawn. You.. I.... I'm so fucking terrible. I didn't mean anything earlier. I just wanted to I don't know I'm a fool. I was so scared I lost you forever. I'm so sorry. I love you so much. "

"No bub, I get where you're coming from. I understand. Just seeing you go to his birthday party made my blood boil. Seeing me with Camila, making out, holding hands I get it. I'm sorry. You should have told me, Y/N. I always wanted you to be comfortable with it. Although I shouldn't have put you in that spot when I know you won't ever say anything that's not in favour of my career. "

" I just didn't wanna hold you back, Shawn. I knew it was important but seeing you with her I just can't help but compare myself to her. I'm so pathetic. I hate myself. "

" Hey don't you ever say that about my baby. She's the best. Okay? Most beautiful, most caring, loving, selfless and she has the best legs. Her ass is so sexy. Her curves. Those lips I never wanna let go off. " He said his hands on your ass massaging it. You let out a low moan. It had been so long.

You wanted Shawn more than anything . His head dipped down to your neck, your head falling back. It felt unreal to be this close to him again. Especially after that sick stunt you pulled off.

He bit you at your soft spot and you jumped in his arms making him chuckle. He licked it to soothe it and you moaned. Not being able to control how overwhelmed you were after months of no physical contact with him.

"By the way that dress, baby. Not a smart move wearing it to Tom's birthday party, was it? " He said as his hands creeped up inside your hoodie sending shivers up your spine.

You just moaned in response only to receive a light tug at your bum.

"Words, honey. Use your words with me. " He said in that deep voice making your knees turn into jelly.

"Yes daddy. It was so stupid of me. Sorry daddy. " You said in your most innocent voice. Eyes looking glossy.

Shawn literally lost it there. Letting out a low growl. " Fuck Y/N." He turned you around. Making you face the mirror on your vanity. Your ass pressed onto his front. You could feel him already getting hard against your thigh. "Say it again." He commanded in a low voice. So you did feeling yourself getting wet. The pool in your panties becoming larger. "Mmm Daddy." You moaned as he moved your hair onto one side tilting your head so that he could assault your neck again. He knew how much you loved it when he did this.

"You know I wanted to take you right when you entered the house. Looking so pretty in that dress. Daddy got so worked up, baby. Only if you weren't being an annoying little brat." He said bringing his hand on your left boob cupping it under your hoodie.

"No bra? You're being very naughty I see."

"Sorrrryyy daddy. Sorry for being a little brat. I need you, daddy." You couldn't take his assault anymore. You whined. You just wanted him to fuck you into oblivion. Wanted him to be rough with you. Wanted to be close to him. As close that even air couldn't get in between the two of you.

"My hun is eager, I see. What do you want honey?" He asked.

"Want daddy to fuck me. Hard." You answered. Your eyes closed as he played with your tits. You could already feel yourself dripping on your thigh.

"Fuck baby. Getting daddy so hard huh? But do you deserve it after what you did."

"No daddy I have been bad. Very bad." You said. Extremely excited for what was in store for you. Shawn being a little rough and dominant always got you in the mood no matter when and where. That was his effect. The fact that only you got to see this side of the otherwise always a sweetheart gentle giant Shawn worked wonders on you. You loved it and he knew that.

"Hmm so kitten what is your punishment then?" Shawn whispered in your left ear. Making goosebumps arise on your body.

"Spanks, daddy. I have to count."

"Mm look at you being so good. How many do you deserve baby? "

"6 daddy? "

"Isn't that very less for what you did hun? Make it 10."

"Okay daddy."

He tugged at your hands as an indication for you to raise them so that he could take off his large hoodie of you. Leaving you only in your black lace panties. Looking at your almost naked body, Shawn couldn't help the moan that escaped his lips. Hands immediately cupping both your boobs. "So beautiful kitten."

"Thank you, daddy."

He proceeded on to take off his shirt. His biceps flexing in the process making your mouth water. You still were in a haze. This man, literally Adonis was yours? How'd you get so lucky? His flawless skin. The little hair peppering his chest. The defined pecs. His abs. You didn't even realise you were gawking at him. Literally with your mouth open. A chuckle brought you back to reality. Getting flushed instantly.

"Mmm definitely enjoying what you see hun. Come here." He said sitting at the edge of the bed opening his legs so that you could bend over his thighs. You did as told.

"Want these off baby. " He tugged at your panties. Before you could even move to get them off. He ripped them apart in half as if it was nothing. You got wetter if that was possible.

"Now bend." He said. You did as told. You bent over his lap.

"Count baby." He growled as his hand slapped your right ass cheek. A loud moan leaving your lips. "One."

Another spank at the same place. Making it become an angry red. "Two." You whined.

Shawn saw your wetness dripping down your thighs forcing a strangled moan out of him. His fingers immediately going to your freshly shaved pussy lips. "You are enjoying this so much kitten? " He asked as his fingers dipped in your folds, you almost screaming at the sudden action, then he took them in his mouth. You sublimated right that moment. If this wasn't the hottest thing you'd ever seen you didn't know what was. You felt pure bliss.

Still in that euphoria you didn't realize how time passed and his hand came in contact with your ass again. Harder than before.

"Three." You cried. Your ass blood red. Tears threatening to fall out of your eyes any second. Just for a second Shawn's demeanor faltered. He seemed to be having second thoughts. He couldn't hurt you. His hand soothingly titillating the area.

You, as if, read his thoughts and told him to continue. "It hurts so good, daddy." That was all he needed. "You're doing so good kitten. Just two more." With that his hand came down again not so hard this time. You moaned, loving the burning sensation.

He repeated the same with your left cheek. You started to cry by the time he was done. He took you in his arms. Making you face him. Straddling his lap. "Did so good for me baby." You rested your head on his shoulder. Your bare pussy against the rough fabric of his jeans. His thick thighs clenching. And you started to grind your self on his thigh. You didn't even realise when. The pleasure seeming to only increase with each thrust of your hips. You let out a moan at the same time as Shawn, it's what made reality dawn upon you. Your actions halted thinking he'd want to punish you, maybe.

When you looked into his eyes, they were darker than before, almost black, filled with insatiable hunger. A wave of confidence hit you. Your movements resumed. Your pace a little faster now. Your hands made way around his neck, wrapping them for support as he held you by your waist. His eyes boring into yours, you felt yourself melt. "I want you to get off my thigh, Y/N. Don't stop until you cum." He said in a voice that was enough to do it for you. He sounded so fucking sexy you couldn't even make sense of it. "Okay daddy." With that you increased your pace. His toned muscles flexing with your movements. It felt like heaven. You felt the fire burn in you. That familiar pit. Shawn kept on cooing filthy things in your ear sending you over the edge even faster. You held onto him for dear life as you came, nails digging in his skin. This was different. The way he responded to your actions. It felt unreal. It was beyond amazing.

"Felt so good daddy." You said as you went to kiss him. He captured your lips with his, kissing you with burning passion. You poured all your apologies, how ashamed you were of your unreasonable behavior, your unconditional love for him, all in that kiss. It conveying more than you could vocally have.

"Look at you hun, ruined daddy's pants huh? Looked like a goddess getting off of my thigh. You like it?"

"Loved it daddy. I love 'em."

He wrapped your legs around his waist as if you weighed nothing, standing up. He threw you on the bed. Taking his pants off along with his boxers. His thick member sprang out of the confines hitting his abdomen making the most unholy noise. You almost gasped at how terribly hard he was. It must be painful.

You scooted closer to him on the bed, reaching the edge. "Can I taste you, daddy? "

"Fuck. Go ahead baby."

"Mmm okay." You said as you reached for him. Getting in between his thighs. Making him sit on the bed and getting on your knees on the floor. You wanted to make him feel just as good as you felt. And boy were you determined.

You took his length in your hands. Spreading the precum all over it and your lips pulling out a pornographic moan off him. He stared at you in awe. Looking so pretty with his cock in your hands, on your knees for him. So wet, your juices dripping everywhere. It was nasty and he loved it.

You took his balls in your mouth, caressing his cock, all the prominent veins and the angry red tip making you salivate. You started running your hands up and down him. Sucking his balls. "Fuck honey, so good. Go on." He caressed your hair. "Always so good for me." You released his balls from your mouth with a pop sound and licked his underside from the base to the tip, feeling each vein. You took his tip in your mouth making him almost stop breathing. "Such a good girl, Y/N. Doing amazing." He moaned. It felt like music to your ears. You finally took him all in. He let out a loud whine. The warmth of your mouth making him dizzy. You started moving your head faster, almost releasing him fully then taking as much of him as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You loved giving Shawn a head. Hell you loved doing everything to him. Anything you did for him, with him was automatically your favorite. You felt what a dumbass you were to even think of leaving him. He's the best thing that has happened to you ever. He's your present and your future. You can't let yourself ruin that. Shawn abruptly stopped you. Pulling himself out of your mouth. You gave him a confused look. "What's wrong, Shawn?" "Not gonna last long, baby. Wanna feel you. Be inside you. Come here." He scooped you in his arms. Made you lay on the bed facing the vanity mirror. He came up beside you. His large body engulfing you as he spooned you. You reached down taking him in your hands, not being able to take anymore teasing. You needed him in you. Wanted to feel full again. It almost felt like the first time today. Your emotions all over the place, being so raw. You loved every microsecond of it. You lined him with yourself, almost about to take him in when Shawn took control. "Calm down. You know Y/N, good girls don't behave like this." "Sorry." You mumbled grumpily. His hand wrapped around your throat. Pressing lightly. Fuck, you got wetter if that was humanely even possible. You felt you might cum right then. "Sorry, what honey? Be good." "Sorry Daddy." "Mmm better." He said as he rubbed his tip at your slit. Teasing you like always. "So wet for me, honey. You've ruined all the sheets." You just moaned loudly in response incapable of forming a coherent sentence. He slowly pushed inside you. He was so fucking big. It hurt. He stretched you out so well. Relief washing you over. Feeling him in you made you feel complete. He stilled once he was inside letting you adjust. "Move baby? " He asked. "Mmm fuck. Yes daddy." You said.

His hand moved from your throat to your clit, rubbing you as he fucked you hard from behind. Your eyes started to close which as soon as he noticed he stopped. You whined so loudly at this it was almost shocking for you. "Open your eyes, baby if you want me to continue. Watch us in the mirror. Watch how daddy fucks you so good." And you saw the most obscene sight. His one hand rubbing your clit. You could see his cock move in and out of you. Other hand on your left boob pressing it hard. You couldn't help but whimper at the beautiful view. So dirty. You loved it.

His pace got faster as he dipped his neck into the crook of your neck leaving hickeys. Your hand reaching back holding onto his arm. Your nails scratching him, digging into his skin.

The feeling of bliss took over you as you yelled "I'm going to cum, Shawn." "Come for me, honey. I'm gonna cum too." His pace faltered becoming slower. He was close too. He rubbed your little nub faster, the nerves started burning at his assault.

"Aaah fuck fuck fuck daddy." With that you came all over him, him following you almost instantly. He let out a grunt as he came inside you, filling you up. Riding you both to the end of your orgasms.

He stayed like that for a few minutes. Not moving at all. Then he pulled out of you. Getting up to go to the bathroom like he always did. He came back with a wet towel, cleaning you up so gently. Then he cleaned himself up with the same towel. And you don't know but this always felt so intimate to you. More than all that you guys just did. Him cleaning you both up with the same towel made your heart flutter. You were so fallen for him you didn't know yourself.

He came back after dumping the towel with the dirty laundry.

As soon as he came to bed, you snuggled into his chest. He was your home. You felt so safe. No one could hurt you with him there. Not even you, yourself. He'd protect you.

A single tear slipped from your eye as you both lay in comfortable silence cuddled with each other. As he noticed it, in the sweetest voice ever he said "It's okay baby. You don't have to even think about what happened earlier, again. I knew it'd affect you badly and I still went for it. I knew if I asked you, you'd never say no. So it was me taking you for granted, hun. You're not at fault. It was me, baby. I put you in that spot."

"Oh shut up, Mendes. Always making me seem so good. It was my and only my fault. Don't you dare blame it on yourself. And I'm so so sorry. I won't ever doubt what we have. It's the most real thing I have felt in my whole 22 years of existence. I love you so much, words can't even express it."

"But you do in other ways. You know." He smirked making you roll your eyes, nudging him lightly in his chest.

"You riding my thigh was the most fucking hot view ever. Trust me, I almost came."

"Oh shut it and let me sleep." You said all flustered about what you did.

"One last thing, baby. "

"Hmm? "

"You're the only one I want. "

You cuddled more into him finally being able to fall asleep soundly in your home.

Taglist: @monikamendes @holland-styles @bvttercupbby @lonelyreputation @badreputationlove @shawn-youth @itsalwaysbeen305 @perfectlywrongsm @particularnarry @wholesomemendes @myboyshawn @myboyshawnie @imaginashawnns @camilalewiss @swiftmendeshoran @princecharmingmendes @fallinallincurls @glitterypositivityforaesthetic @shawnpetermuffins @stylesharrys @shawnblanc @shawn-mendes-thirst @shawnftchris @lonelyreputation

Tell me guys if anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist.

Also this is my first time writing on tumblr so i dont know if I did any stupidities please let me know if I did 🥺🥺

And How'd you guys like the shot? I'd really appreciate if you all leave feedbacks. Thank you lovelies! ❣

[catacomb231]

Sunday Cuddles|Aizawa x Adult! Reader

Shota Aizawa never saw himself being in a relationship.

He always thought dating was just a waste of time, and he had to worry about being a teacher and pro hero. Not about his love life.

Until he met YOU that is.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon. Aizawa arrived at a coffee shop to get himself some coffee before he went back home to finish grading papers and preparing his lesson for tomorrow.

He walked through the door, having it ring as he enters. He walks up to the short line that lead to the counter and he looked around.

There was really only a few people there. Some were friends all hanging out, others were on their phones or laptops, and ONE particular person was reading.

That was you. Y/N L/N.

For some reason, YOU had caught Aizawa's attention.

The fact that you were just quietly reading,

Your shiny sleek h/c hair and beautiful e/c eyes.

You were sitting by one of the windows, having the fall sunshine envelop you, making you look like an angel.

Why was he thinking these things?

He quickly looked away before you caught him looking at you.

He got to the front counter and ordered his coffee, and after playing, glanced back at you one last to before he left.

But when he did, you were no longer reading your book. Another man was talking to you, and he was one of those douchebags that was trying to get you Number and ask you out on a date. Aizawa could also see pretty clearly that you were uncomfortable.

"Come on darling! Just give me your number!" The man says, still trying to get you to comply. But you shook your head once again. "No thank you... I'm good." You reply, trying to put this idiot down nicely but he obviously was persistent and wasn't getting the hint that you weren't interested.

That's when someone grabs the man's wrist and you And the man look to see it was Aizawa who had grabbed it. "Didn't you hear her? She isn't interested." He tells the man with narrowed eyes.

He was worried he would have to fight with the man but luckily, he was a wimp and just scoffed before walking out of the store. "Wow.. uh, thank you..!" You tell him. He looked down at you. He wasn't expecting that you would have such a shy and quiet personality.

It was a nice break compared to all of the loud shouting he gets from Present Mic at school. "You're welcome." He replies. He was about to leave but you gesture for him to sit down at the chair across from you, so he does. He didn't want to be rude.

He take a sip of his coffee before responding. "Does that normal kind of thing happen? Or was that guy just a douchebag?" He asks, actually curious if you usually get guys hitting on you.

But you shake your head no. "No, not usually. I'm usually too quiet for any guys to pay attention to me.. he was just a desperate guy.." You reply quietly.

Aizawa just loved how calm and quiet you were.

And that was the moment that sparked between you two.

You two started talking and hanging and NOW, you two have been dating for about 6 months now!

It was a sunny fall afternoon, more like sunset time, and it was a Sunday. You AND Aizawa both loved Sundays. Because it was both of your days off, and you guys can just be lazy all day and play and pet with your pet cat Ume.

You walk into the living room and see Aizawa sitting on the couch, Ume laying on his lap purring as he petted her, and was just staring off into space:Thinking to himself.

You smile and walk over. Without saying anything, you crawl on to the couch and Aizawa puts his arm around you as you two just silently cuddled together.

After a long moment of silence, you finally speak up.

"I really love you Shota.. I'm glad I met you." You bluntly tell him, which catches him off guard.

"You do?" He asks, to make sure he heard that right.

"Of course! I know it was a bit blunt, but it's true!" You reassure him. Aizawa isn't one to smile but he cracks a smile.

"I love you too, kitty.."

[fanficimagery]

Misery Business pt. I

Imagine moving in with the Molina's after an incident back home. Instead of being angry, you realize this is your second chance to be truly happy and you really hope it goes better than your first attempt.

Words: 6.1K Author's Note: I'm a sucker for three idiot ghost boys which is why I'm back, only in this imagine everyone is alive. Yes that includes Rose Molina as well :) Soulmate!AU too so have fun with that. FYI, Y/N will be "musically talented" but since I can't write music to save my life then "Y/N's music" will come from a little band that goes by the name of Paramore and by James Arthur.

Julie and three of her best guy friends are in the family studio outside, writing and jamming and just having the time of their life. Alex, Reggie, and Luke are about two years older than Julie, but the boys overlooked the teeny tiny age gap because her killer voice was exactly what their band was missing. The entire high school knew exactly who the boys of Sunset Curve were so they were all surprised when they took sophomore Julie Molina under their wing and rebranded their band.

Julie's family was very supportive of her music, especially her mother Rose, and she let Julie and the boys use her studio whenever they wanted so long as they all kept up their grades. They're usually left alone when Julie and Luke are in writing mode, so it's a bit of a surprise to see Ray and Rose entering the studio.

Alex is the first to notice them, nudging Reggie and gesturing to Mr. and Mrs. Molina, and then Reggie tosses a pillow at Luke's head to get his attention. Luke's rather rude remark is on the tip of his tongue, but his eyes widen upon seeing Julie's parents.

"Jules. Julie!" He hisses. "Your mom and dad are here."

"Hmm. What?" Julie finally looks away from her journal, her eyes widening before a beaming smile breaks out. "Mami! Papi. What brings you two here?"

"Hey mija," Ray says. "Can we talk real quick?"

"Of course!"

She glances at the boys and they're quick to start packing up, but Ray gestures for them to stay put. "It's okay, boys. You can stay for this."

Rose smiles. "After all, you are family too."

Every time Rose or Ray mention that the boys are family, they can't help but smile goofily. None of the boys have the type of relationship with their parents that Julie has with hers, so they're all grateful the Molina's accept them as if they were a Molina as well. Julie smiles as the boys, who are all practically older brothers to her, gather around her and Luke to hear what's going on.

On his way further into the studio, Ray grabs a chair for Rose and she takes a seat while Ray stands behind her, gripping the back of her chair. "Okay," he exhales a little roughly, "so you know the drama your cousin went through a few months ago?"

Julie frowns. "Yeah."

"Well it seems Y/N isn't doing so well," Rose says. "Your tía thinks a change of location is what's best for her."

"Y/N wants to move here?"

"Well not exactly," Ray says. "Y/N doesn't know. If we agree to take her in, then Y/N will be told of her relocation."

Julie nods, looking thoughtful. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ray muses. "What does okay mean?"

"Well I'm assuming you're only telling me because you never make a big decision without seeing what me and Carlos think," Julie says and then smiles brightly. "I love Y/N. Carlos loves Y/N, so I know he already voted yes."

Rose chuckles. "He did. I believe his words were I will throw down for Y/N any day of the week. Bring her home."

Julie snorts. "Of course he did." Then after glancing between her mom and dad, she nods with a gentler smile. "Whatever she needs. I'll even decorate the guest bedroom for her."

"That's nice, mija." Ray then looks over the boys, eyes settling on Reggie. "No flirting."

"I- what?"

"No flirting!"

Luke and Alex snort as Reggie gasps in mock outrage, but everyone knows Reggie is the one to flirt first and ask questions later. Ray and Rose laugh as they ready to leave the studio, Rose walking over to kiss her daughter on the temple before disappearing after her husband.

As soon as the teenagers are left alone, the boys whirl on Julie.

"So who's Y/N?" Alex asks, smiling innocently.

"And what was the drama a few months ago?" Luke wonders.

Julie glances between all three boys before sighing. "I'm only telling you this because it's highly likely she'll be coming soon." She has their full attention. "Y/N is my older cousin. Last year she met her soulmate."

"Aww," Alex coos.

"Or so we thought."

His smile immediately falls. "Oh."

Julie cringes. "Yeah. Apparently some new transfer student at her school liked my cousin so much that he decided he wanted to be her one and only. Really creepy dude," she says. "So somehow he figured out what her words were and made sure those were the first words he spoke to her." Their eyes widen. "When she spoke to him in return, he memorized the words and had them tattooed on. Then he refused to let her see the words, under the guise that they were in a private spot she couldn't see until they got to know each other better, until they healed."

"What the hell," Luke breathes. "That such a-"

"Dick move," Reggie mutters.

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah. What they said."

Julie smiles sadly at her friends. "She was with him for a year before he met his real soulmate and then he tried to juggle them both. Y/N was really torn up about it."

"Who wouldn't be?" Alex says. "That is so messed up."

"It is. But if there's one thing I know about my cousin it's that she doesn't want people to tiptoe around her." Julie grins then. "So be yourselves like you are with me, just don't flirt with her."

Alex stares down his two guy best friends until they huff and nod in agreement. "I think they can handle that."

Stepping out of the Uber in front of your tío's house, you're grateful you stopped being annoyed with your mom for making you move long enough to accept the money she transferred into your bank account. The ride from the airport to the Molina household wasn't exactly a cheap one and you regretted not letting your family pick you up when you saw what you owed.

But now you're here, one duffel bag hanging from your shoulder and a medium-sized suitcase sitting by your feet. You only have a moment to take it all in before the front door is opening, and your tío and tía are exiting the house to greet you.

"You're here!" Rose smiles and is quick to pull you into a hug. "How was your flight?"

"Decent. Just a little turbulence. I might have barfed. Twice."

Rose and Ray laugh, and then Ray's tugging you into a hug of his own. "We're so glad to have you, mija. Julie and her friends have just about finished with your room. They're really excited to have you here."

"And I'm excited to be here." Pulling out of the hug, you're met with two identical expressions that practically say Are you really?. "Well now I am." All three of you chuckle. "I was a little upset at the short notice, but I'm totally over it. I am a little tired though, so yeah."

"Oh. Of course. Just head on up, mija. You know where the guest bedroom is," Rose says. "Ray and I need to go get some groceries for tonight. Does arroz con pollo sound good?"

You groan quietly. "It sounds fantastic. My mom could never quite make it like you do."

Ray laughs. "Well my sister is not the cook she claims to be. Now go on. Rest up and we'll see you for dinner."

As Ray and Rose take their leave, you grab your suitcase and drag it inside behind you. You can hear laughter coming from upstairs so that's where you head towards, and you're not surprised to see Julie, Flynn, and who appears to be Julie's bandmate Alex tacking up some fairy lights and draping them across your headboard. The bedroom, which was usually bare except for the bed and dresser, has many of your personal things scattered about that had been shipped a little over a week ago now. However the sheer black curtains, the maroon comforter bed set, and the lights they're hanging up are all new.

"A-hem." You clear your throat, smiling when all three teens freeze and turn towards you. "Are you guys seriously having fun without me?" The blonde boy grins as the two girls squeal, you dropping your duffel bag next to your suitcase just as Julie and Flynn launch themselves at you. Your arms are spread wide as they wrap themselves around you and you bring your own arms down around their shoulders to squeeze them in return. "Did you girls miss me?"

"Uh duh!" Flynn is the first to retort.

Julie pulls back just enough to look you in the face. "We're going to have so much fun."

"So much." You can't help but chuckle, your attention then sliding to the quiet blonde. "Alex, right?"

He smiles. "Yeah. Hi. It's nice to meet you."

"You too, man. I keep up with the band on Youtube and can I just say that you absolutely kill it on the drums? I mean holy shit. You're awesome!"

Alex blushes as Julie points at him. "See! Own your awesomeness. My cousin thinks you're cool, therefore you are cool."

Both girls finally release you, Flynn stumbling back to sit on the edge of what is now your bed. Julie stays right where she's at, arm wrapped around your waist as you both stare at her bandmate. You nod and smile at him. "You really are. We definitely need to jam some time."

Alex seems to perk up then. "Y-You're into music too?"

Flynn snorts. "The Molina's are all freakishly talented. I'm almost jealous."

You roll your eyes fondly at Flynn. "Shush. You're talented in other areas." Then looking at Alex, you grin. "I sing and write. Not as amazing as Julie, of course, but I can hold my own. I like to perform-"

"Just not in front of an audience," Julie muses.

"-and just let go. The rush of it all feels good." You turn to pout at your cousin. "And yeah, not in front of an audience of strangers." You stare at Alex once more. "Friends and family is fine, just not like a legit stage. I'll projectile vomit like that one girl in Pitch Perfect." All three teens snort, that movie having been popular with all of them.

Alex then grins. "We'll definitely have to jam then once you're settled in."

A brief moment of silence descends upon the room, but Flynn is not having it. She claps her hands once, garnering everyone's attention. "So before we get comfortable, lets address the elephant in the room." You groan as she smiles broadly. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, guys."

"Really? Your sudden move states otherwise."

"Flynn!" Julie scolds. Alex seems to freeze, his gaze darting between you and Flynn.

Flynn grimaces as she seems to think she's crossed a line, but you merely roll your eyes. "What exactly did my mom tell your dad?" You turn to ask Julie.

"Um," she gulps and fidgets in place. "I was just told that you weren't doing so good after everything that happened."

You snort. "Seriously?" Julie nods and you chuckle, shaking your head. "Guys, I'm fine. Honestly! I got over the heartbreak like a week after it happened and then I was just pissed off. But my friends helped me realize some things and I'm good now."

"But then why did your mom say you weren't?" Julie wonders.

"I love my mom, but she's a moron," you say. You drag Julie over to your bed, kicking off your shoes along the way and crawl to sit against the headboard. Julie does the same and you gesture for Alex to join Flynn at the foot of your bed. He does, smiling to be included. Once everyone's settled, you say, "So Jerry, who was the guy pretending to be my soulmate," you explain for Flynn and Alex, "has been trying to get in contact with me ever since I blocked him on everything I could. A couple weeks ago while I was out partying with some friends, Jerry and his soulmate were at the same party I was at. I didn't notice them, but they noticed me and they somehow managed to come up with the idea that I was stalking them."

"What a bitch," Flynn immediately blurts. Alex nods along with her.

"Anyway, Jerry's soulmate confronted me and I was completely blindsided by how angry she was with me. I mean, Jerry's the one who tricked me! Not the other way around." You shake your head in annoyance. "She made some hella stupid accusations and she threw a punch."

Julie gasps. "She didn't!?"

"She did. Now I'm not stupid, so I let her hit me a couple of times before I took my first swing. Fortunately for me, she clawed me," you pull your shirt down to show them three marks just above your cleavage, "and she was arrested when the cops got there. After giving my statement and getting statements from the witnesses, they determined I acted in self defense and let me go home. Mom took the little altercation as me spiraling and acting out, so she shipped me off."

"Jesus," Julie sighs. "That's messed up."

"It really is. But oh well. What happened, happened, and now I get to live with my favorite people."

All four of you laugh before Alex gestures towards your chest, sobering up some. "I have some cream that you can use so it'll fade the scars. My soulmate likes to skateboard and he gets pretty banged up every now and then so I keep a stash of that stuff for him."

You smile fondly at him. "Yes, please. The first time my real soulmate sees the girls," you shimmy your chest just the slightest, "I don't want him to see my battle wounds."

Julie swats you with the back of your hand and you laugh at her exasperated expression as the other two break down into giggles.

Lounging around in your room, you ask Julie about her other two bandmates but Alex tells you they had family obligations they couldn't get out of. Carlos gets dropped off by his friend's mom and he joyously jumps onto the middle of the bed when he realizes you're finally there. So that's how Ray and Rose find the five of you, laughing and joking in your new room before dinner is ready and making plans to hang out the following day when everyone could meet up.

After explaining to your tío and tía the real reasoning your mother had you sent away, it was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders and they were more at ease in your presence. You laughed at their sheepishness, at how they thought they had a rightfully heartbroken teenager on their hands with no clue how to ease said heartache. But when all was said and done, everyone seemed to be themselves around you.

Alex had shown up that afternoon, soulmate in tow, and immediately you asked to play with Willie's hair. Both boys had laughed, Willie agreed and readily sat on the floor between your knees as Julie and Alex Facetimed Flynn about any upcoming open mic nights they could book. Willie had a box of random hair supplies in his lap and you saw how he kept running his fingers over a feather and some small silver hoops. Without even asking him, you grabbed a couple of silver hoops, a feather, and set them aside. You had him tilt his head and he did so without questions, closing his eyes as you started to part and section the hair on the right side of his head. Alex smiled every time he looked over at the two of you and you happily gave Willie three thin braids about five inches long before letting the rest of his hair hang loose. The two outer braids had the silver hoops clipped in and the braid in the middle held the feather you had braided in with a thin leather cord. When you were finished and then combed out Willie's hair one last time, you told him you were done and had to bite back a laugh at the way Alex gulped. Willie eagerly went to check himself out in the mirror, beaming at his reflection before turning around and pulling you into a hug.

While your tío Ray and tía Rose worked, and Carlos spent time at his friend's house, you and Julie ordered in some pizza for yourselves, Alex, and Willie. They had no plans at all for the day so the four of you went out to Rose's studio garage when Flynn finally showed up.

Flynn has the bright idea to do karaoke, pulling out the equipment and setting up a laptop Julie had in the studio for this occasion.

Flynn killed it on Nicki Minaj's Starships, you and Julie sang Mamma Mia and were joined by a very enthusiastic Alex. Willie absolutely refused to sing, but that was okay because he knew the choreography for Backstreet Boys Everybody and you eagerly pulled him up to dance with yourself and Julie. Tío Ray and Tía Rose showed up with Carlos in tow, and you and Julie laughed joyously as her parents sang through Journey's Don't Stop Believin'.

Everyone was laughing and having a good time, but as the sun was going down the parental figures went inside to talk through dinner ideas and clean up a little.

You ask Julie if she has any originals you have yet to hear, but as she goes to go grab a journal Alex speaks up. "What about you? You said you wrote, right? I need to hear an original."

"I, uh, sure." You shrug. You turn towards Julie, eyeing the laptop. "Are my instrumentals still on there?"

She grins. "Yeah. Can I choose?"

"Go for it." You get up to go see which song of yours she's going to choose, smiling softly when you see her choice. Alex is practically bouncing in his seat, Willie is shaking his head at him in fond amusement, and Flynn looks torn between recording with her phone. When you nod at her, she beams and gets ready to hit record on her phone.

"So before Julie hits play, I just want you guys to know I wrote this song while I was Jerry. He absolutely loathed it when he first heard it because he thought I was singing about someone else." You huff a laugh. "The song was honestly about a couple on a TV show I got fixated on, but he didn't believe me. So anyway, I might be a little rusty, but Julie loves it so here goes nothing.

Julie hits play. The violin starts and you smirk when you see Alex's eyebrows raise. Then the drums, guitar, and bass kick in and his eyes widen just as his jaw drops when your attitude completely changes.

"I'm in the business of misery, let's take it from the top. She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock. It's a matter of time before we all run out. When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth."

You keep singing, singing to Julie, but then it goes silent before the chorus kicks in and you find yourself back to back with your cousin as she joins you. "Woah, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you now. But God, does it feel so good 'cause I got him where I want him now. And if you could, then you know you would 'cause God, it just feels so.. It just feels so good."

Willie whoops and you laugh your way through the next few lines, rocking your shoulders and even throwing in a couple of head bangs for good measure.

But then the music quiets just so and you face the boys. "I watched his wildest dreams come true and not one of them involving you. Just watch my wildest dreams come true. Not one of them involving.." You head bang now, twisting your head back and forth so your hair wildly flips back and forth. Julie plays the air guitar and you're laughing, having made yourself dizzy in the process. But then as one particular part comes up, you sidle up to Julie's side, your face just inches from the side of her own face as she stares forward. "Woah I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now."

Your chest aches from putting your all into your own song, sweat beading at your hairline as you jump around dancing. You're exhausted by the end of the song, but it's well worth it to see Alex's gobsmacked expression.

The studio falls silent, but it's Willie and Flynn who jump to their feet. Their utter amazement and joyfulness makes you a little sheepish, but then Alex is standing to his feet. "Holy shit."

"Right?" Julie cackles. "I've been begging her to play live with us for one song, but she won't."

"Are you frickin' kidding me?!" The new voice has your head snapping in it's direction, the boy in a leather jacket and red flannel wrapped around his waist staring at you in wonder. "What is it with you Molina's and your musical talents?"

Your face flames at his praise, eyes then darting to the boy with shaggy hair and a sleeveless shirt gaping at you. You chuckle nervously and Julie wraps an arm around your shoulders, grinning as she introduces you. "And here we have Reggie and Luke. Guys, this is my cousin Y/N."

"Dude, will you marry me?" Luke's words make everyone laugh out loud, but you freeze.

Julie, having felt you tense up, stares at you. "Y/N? Are you-"

But you cut her off, eyes solely on Luke as you say, "Bro, don't call me dude." Your mocking tone makes Flynn snort.

Not only is it Luke's turn to freeze, but so do Alex and Reggie. Their eyes widen as they stare between you and Luke, your heart beating triple when you realize just who this is.

"Oh my god," Alex mutters.

"Oh my god!" Reggie exclaims, smile instantly beaming.

"OH MY GOD!" Julie shouts, arm tightening around your shoulder. "Did he just- did you just say.." You nod, your breathing becoming a little erratic. Julie notices and turns you so she grips you by the shoulders and you're staring directly into her face. "Hey, it's okay. You're fine. Luke's one of the good ones."

You gulp. "I- it's not that," you murmur. "But he said.. and I need to see-"

Before you can finish, the presence of said boy is right next to you and Julie. You startle at his appearance, but then he's holding out his arm between you and your cousin and you glance down to see the words that have been stamped into his skin since the day of his birth. There on the space just below the crease of his elbow are the words bro, don't call me dude.

You laugh, a little wetly, but no one dares to call you out on it. Instead, you turn and lift your shirt so he can see his own words stamped on your ribs. A faint touch has you flinching away and giggling, and Julie snorts as you pout at Luke who seems to realize you're ticklish.

"OH MY GOD! YOU GUYS ARE SOULMATES!" Flynn shouts. "THIS IS SO COOL!"

And just like that the tension is broken, everyone laughing and cheering. You're having trouble holding Luke's gaze, his crinkled eyes and swoon-worthy smile making you want to reach out and hug him. So when you see his fingers twitch and tap out a beat against his leg before he clenches his fists closed, you cave and pull him into a hug. He hesitates a moment before he sighs, wrapping his arms tightly around you in return.

"Hey. ¿Qué está pasando? (What's going on?) Rose wonders. Apparently the cheering had caught tía Rose and tío Ray's attention.

You and Luke break apart, but your arms remain touching as you both stare at Julie's parents like you'd been caught doing something wrong. And since the two of you can't seem to form words, Julie giggles before filling them in. "Luke and Y/N are soulmates. They said each other's words."

Ray and Rose immediately look at you in shock, and you can feel your face heating up. Slowly, you smile at your tía's concerned expression and immediately she's beaming as she makes a beeline for you. "Mija! That's wonderful news." You laugh as she hugs you and then laugh even harder when you see your tío Ray clamp a hand down on Luke's shoulder. Then releasing you and turning towards Luke, tía Rose smiles as she opens her arms wide before moving in to hug him. "I'm happy for you too, mijo. Welcome to the family." Then pulling back, she says, "Not that you weren't already part of the family, but you know."

Luke chuckles, ears turning red. "Thanks, Mrs. Molina."

"Well this is a cause for celebration," Ray says. "Anyone feeling up to pasta?" Julie, Flynn, and Reggie all whoop in unison. "You going to join us, Willie?"

Willie, never usually around for long periods of time with Julie's family, is surprised to be invited. Alex beams at his soulmate and Willie knows he can't say no. "Sure, Mr. Molina. Thanks for the invite."

"Great," Rose smiles. "Well now that that's settled, I'm going to go make a reservation so we don't give the hostess a stroke when we all walk in. Everyone has two hours before we leave."

Tía Rose and tío Ray congratulate you and Luke one last time before they take their leave. Everyone follows after them, excitingly talking outfit choices, but Reggie remains by the opened doors smiling between you and Luke. A second later, Alex returns and marches a reluctant Reggie away.

Now that it's just you and Luke, the two of you laugh nervously.

"So.."

"So.." You both laugh nervously again and then you're groaning. "This is so weird, but like I'm also really excited."

Luke loses some of his nerves and his shoulders slump. "Really? You're excited?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He turns sheepish then, averting his gaze as he shoves his hands into the front of his jean's pockets. "Julie might have explained the shitty thing your ex did and yeah. I would understand if you weren't stoked to meet me on your second day here."

He's so genuine in his explanation that you can't help but mentally swoon at this boy before you. You're not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but you're grateful for it when you step closer and take his face in the palm of your hands so he's staring right at you. "Okay one, my mother didn't properly explain why she moved me here. I'll fill you in later, but I'm telling you right now it's not because I'm heartbroken or anything. And two, I am stoked to meet you. You wanna know why?" Luke can only nod as he pays close attention and you grin at him. "Because the moment realization sunk in, everything just felt.. it felt-"

"Right?" He asks, voice low.

You nod. "It felt right. There was no uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, there was just elation. Like I found something I didn't know I was looking for until you uttered the words etched on my ribs."

Luke slowly smiles and you let your hands fall to your sides, leaning in and quickly kissing his cheek. "Now come on. We need to get ready for tonight."

His cheeks turn red almost immediately, but you don't say anything as you grab his arm and drag his hand from his pocket. Then clasping his hand within your own, you drag him out of the studio and up towards the house.

Dinner was quite the affair, everyone pushing you and Luke next to one another at the table and cooing over how adorable you two were. Even his parents, Emily and Mitch, had been invited along and everyone smiled throughout the entire dinner. The table was quite loud, but not a single customer nearby or the waitresses could blame you when Reggie loudly explained that they were celebrating newly found soulmates. There was even applause that had you and Luke turning red in the face and then trying to aim a kick at Reggie's shin under the table. Unfortunately, Alex took the brunt of both kicks.

When the weekend was over, Luke and the boys stood by your side on your first day of school. The band had quite the following and those fangirls of theirs were not impressed to see you and Luke hand-in-hand. It was a bit daunting navigating the hallways with a majority of the school's population looking down their nose at you, but then Julie, Flynn, and surprisingly Carrie Wilson (your cousin's arch-nemesis) came to your aide. You understood Julie and Flynn's protectiveness, but Carrie's was a shock and she merely flipped her hair over her shoulder while giving the excuse that no one should be shit on just because they found their soulmate. The girls were stunned, but shrugged it off and let Carrie do what Carrie wanted to do.

Tía Rose and tío Ray saw a lot more of Luke at their home, but didn't put up any fuss. The only thing they asked was that if they were alone in the room, then the bedroom door was to remain open at all times. And not wanting to disappoint them, you and Luke abided by their rules. Because being with Luke.. it was the complete opposite than being with Jerry. There were no nerves, no second guessing, and no jealousy. You were happy to be with Luke and vice versa, and either of you could go out with friends with no twenty questions about who you were going with and where (Jerry seriously did a number on you).

You became Julie and the Phantoms number one fan, alongside Willie and Flynn, and sat up in the loft with Willie while the band rehearsed downstairs. The times you did go downstairs after rehearsals and Luke bounded over to you like an eager puppy, you had to fight the urge to chuck something at Reggie and Julie when they cooed over how cute you were together.

Luckily for you, Luke wasn't into PDA other than hand holding or hugs. But it still didn't stop your friends from mockingly groaning for you to get a room when Luke would hug you from behind and stay there with his chin hooked over your shoulder.

Today is one of the rare days the band left Luke alone so he could spend the time with you, but you're stuck doing Algebra II homework and Luke is going through one of your old writing journals for abandoned lyrics to give him inspiration.

You've been stuck on the same problem for what feels like twenty minutes when you hear Luke sharply inhale. You glance up at him, watching him read through something that's clearly caught his attention. You can't help but grin at his look of concentration and then his expression falls and your heart suddenly aches.

Luke glances up and you gulp. "What's this?"

"What's what?"

He glances back down at the journal in his hands before looking at you once more. "Something titled Train Wreck. It looks like a completed song."

Your expression completely goes lax then. "Oh. That's, uh, I wrote that a while back when my mom and dad were going through their divorce." You close the math book in your lap and hesitantly meet Luke's gaze. "That was not a fun time for all involved. My mind was kind of.. messed up back then."

Luke gulps. "I don't want to seem inconsiderate of what clearly was a dark time for you, but this- this is really good, Y/N. Do you have a melody for it?"

You huff a laugh, shaking your head in fond amusement. Only Luke would be this invested in a song. "I do. I think it's on the laptop in a password protected file.."

His eyes light up. "Can I hear it? You don't have to, I just-"

"It's fine." You get up, heading over to the laptop and powering it up to find what you need. After a bit of searching, you find it and open it up. Letting the melody play, you look up at Luke. "I won't sing the whole thing, but I'll sing a portion of it."

He eagerly nods. "I'll take anything."

You smile at him, nervously taking a seat on a crate in the middle of the room. He finds another crate and places it close to you, wanting to be as close as possible. You close your eyes, smiling, and let the melody wash over you as the lyrics come back to you in a flash. Your heart beat is beating double, but you inhale deeply and let it out slowly.

Losing yourself to the music, you mouth the lyrics to yourself until letting your voice ring out. "Underneath our bad blood, we've still got a sanctum. Home, still a home, still a home here. It's not too late to build it back 'cause a one in a million chance is still a chance, still a chance and I would take those odds."

You open your eyes, chest aching as all those feelings from so long ago come rushing back and make your voice just that much stronger. "Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck." Luke grabs your hand and you squeeze it for all your worth as you keep looking forward. "Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions now. I'm not ready to die, not yet. Pull me out of the train wreck. Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out."

You meet Luke's gaze then, a little surprised to see his eyes red rimmed and teary through your own blurry vision. "You can say what you like, don't say I wouldn't die for it. I'm down on my knees and I need you to be my God, be my help, be a Savior who can-"

Your voice cracks on the next word and Luke tugs on your hand, pulling you into a hug. A sob escapes your throat as you cling to Luke, but you quickly stifle it against his shoulder. As the melody plays out, you press your forehead to his shoulder before pushing back and sniffling. "I, uh, I'm sorry about that. Everything came rushing back and I-"

"Don't apologize." Luke catches your face in the palm of his hands, thumbs brushing away your tears before his lips press against your forehead. The action is so soft that your expression crumples momentarily, but you quickly mask it when Luke pulls back to catch your gaze. "That was amazing, Y/N! So amazing. And I'm sorry it brought up bad memories, but.. wow."

You huff a laugh, pulling back so you aren't hunched over. Luke, however, refuses to stop touching you and catches your hands within his own. "I should have guessed you'd be easily impressed."

"For you? Always."

You shake your head, grinning. "You're so freakin' cheesy, Luke Patterson."

He chuckles and again you're hit with a sudden boost of confidence that you lean forward, one hand finding the back of his neck so you can bring him to meet you halfway in a kiss. He smiles against your mouth, but the smile quickly falls the second you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Unfortunately, just as the tip of your tongue flicks against his bottom lip, you're interrupted.

"Can we come in now?" Reggie's voice rings out. "I really wanna give Y/N a hug after hearing that song."

"Reggie!" Julie scolds.

You and Luke pull apart laughing. You both straighten up and look towards the door just in time to see Reggie rubbing at the back of his head as he walks in with Alex and Julie behind him. Hand in hand, you and Luke stand up and chuckle at Reggie's put out expression.

Had you known that having a soulmate felt exactly as you feel right now, you would have known something was definitely up back home with Jerry. And though you will always hate your ex for tricking you the way he did, there's an ounce of gratefulness for the misery he put you through because had he not then you wouldn't have moved and met your true soulmate.

[sometimesiwrite]

Just a Scratch

B I N G O ! 

Prompt: It’s Just a Scratch

Pairing: Lambert/Aiden; Eskel & Lambden; Implied Geralt/Eskel 

Rating: Teen 

Summary: Lambert and Aiden are moving to start the next leg of their adventure together. Eskel sees them off.

Warnings: Modern AU; bittersweet; friends leaving; implied COVID distancing A/N: For Ben & Jemma

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo @continentcakeshop @morethangeraskier​

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33145900

“All set?” Eskel asked, squishing in one final duffel bag into the footwell and backing himself out of the rear door of Aiden’s VW Golf. Anya, Lambert and Aiden's husky mix, dozed sleepily in the back seat despite the excitement, having been rudely awoken at 6:30am to confusedly do her business.

“That’s it,” Aiden shrugged, letting the trunk close with a dull, satisfying thud. He opened his arms questioningly, and Eskel wasted no time pulling him into an affectionate squeeze, touching his hand to the back of Aiden’s head before pulling away. 

“You take care of yourself. Let me know when you make your first stop, alright? Anything goes wrong, just let me know.” 

“We’ll call you from the hotel,” Aiden reassured as he flipped the car keys over his finger.

“I still say we can make it to Port Hope by the end of the day if we push it.” Lambert was tucked under the hood, giving the car one final check for fluid levels (tyre pressure had already been meticulously checked earlier that morning).

Aiden tilted his head, “That’s if you drive and unfortunately the highway patrol doesn’t care about fuel efficiency if you’re going ten over the speed limit.” He ambled his way over behind Lambert to get a cheeky eye-full of his favourite view, “Besides, I need you to put that sexy brain of yours to work for navigation.”

“Oi! Gerroff!” Lambert protested and Aiden backed away, but not before getting in a perfectly resonant smack. “If you had it your way, you horny old bastard, we’d be stopping every two hours to—”

 Eskel pointedly cleared his throat, scratching his head as he met Aiden’s eyes with a mixture of amused pride and endearing awkwardness that Aiden had so quickly grown to love. He would miss Eskel. They'd gotten close over the last five years, close enough that they had become friends of their own—each keeping the other company when Lambert or Geralt was out of town, planning surprises... 

Aiden's proposal had gone perfectly, their crowning achievement of mutual scheming. Lambert didn't even try to deny the fact that he'd cried like a baby—candles, dusk, his favourite hiking trail, champaign. Even Anya had behaved herself. That is, until she decided her owners had been embracing for too long and not paying nearly enough attention to her. Eskel had offered to edit that part out of the video, but Lambert insisted on keeping it in—"What's a special moment without our favourite dingus. Isn't that right, Anya? Are you a dingus? Yes! Yes you are!" 

“Not gonna miss us at all, are ya, big guy?” The hood latched heavily as Lambert wiped his hands and stowed the oil rag in the passenger's side door next to the Stanadyne.

"You kiddin'? I'm gonna miss you like hell. C'mere." Eskel wrapped Lambert in a bear bug that nearly crushed his goddamn ribs. 

"Easy, Eskel, Jesus I gotta breathe!" 

"Sorry," Eskel eased off, but he didn't let go. There hadn't been enough hugs in the last year. The last few months had barely made up for it, and now there would be far fewer. More dinners over Skype, more sporadic phone calls, occasional texts... watching his and Aiden's life unfold over Instagram and Facebook. But at least they would be happy, Eskel told himself. At least they were starting the next stage of their lives together with an adventure they'd remember forever. This was important for them. And yet the chill, damp fog of isolation was already creeping in around Eskel. Even as he held Lambert close to him and swallowed tears he'd save for later. 

One final squeeze and a pat on the back, and Lambert turned to get in the car, tossing a treat to Anya as he settled in. Aiden gave Eskel a final peck on the cheek, "Take care of yourself, alright? Don't be a stranger. Call, text, whatever. We're always happy to hear from you. Promise?"

Eskel nodded soberly, "I will. Thanks, Aiden." 

"We'll skype when we get to the new place. I want you to see it before it gets cluttered with boxes. We could even do dinner or—"

Eskel waved a hand, "We'll figure something out. Just get there in one piece, and send pictures. I'm not worried." 

Aiden smiled warmly, "Good. Good." A heavy exhale, "Alright, well..." 

"I hate to interrupt the bleeding hearts moment, but we've got commuter traffic piling up on the 606 as we speak! Get your gorgeous butt in the car, we gotta move!"

Aiden took a beat, "Yes dear!" 

"Okay, Anya! You be good!" Eskel gave the chocolate-and-caramel pup one last scritch behind the ears and closed the rear door just in time for the stereo to start playing Journey.

The car rolled down the driveway and Eskel watched until it disappeared over the hill past the stop sign. When the gravelly diesel purr was finally drowned out by late summer cicadas, Eskel sat heavily on the front steps with his coffee. He couldn't bring himself to open the door and go back inside. Something about the stark emptiness of a home previously occupied with guests made the aimless silence too loud. Besides, robins and cardinals were better than daytime tv for company. Finally, Eskel rested his forehead against his thumbs and let the wave of emotion breach the dam.

Shedding tears was something Eskel usually associated with significant pain—rage, grief, remorse, indignation—an open wound that took time and tending to heal. This wasn't like that, though. This was a scratch. Simple, uncomplicated pain: he was sad. Eskel couldn't remember the last time he'd cried because he was just... sad. Decades ago, he imagined, though he couldn't pinpoint a specific moment. It was something children did before emotions became more complicated. But here he was, sitting on his front steps, crying because he was sad. Eyes streaming, hot and wet down his cheeks because his friends were leaving. Just a scratch.

He felt silly, crying over something so inconsequential— and a man as touch-needy as Eskel, bearlike as he was, was left with the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a rather long time.

It's not that they didn't have friends, of course, and he would talk to them later that night. He was helping to plan their wedding for chrissake, it's not like they would never speak again. But proximity to other people was something that had grown increasingly scarce, and Eskel—bearlike as he was—had the sinking feeling that, aside from Geralt, he might not touch another person for a while. 

Lambert and Aiden had an uncomplicated relationship with affection that always freed Eskel from the burden of second-guessing the odd touch to a shoulder or elbow. So many others had different personal spaces, many of which had expanded recently. Eskel was happy to respect, and accommodate, but Eskel always felt most himself when he could be affectionate with the people he cared about, and with those two gone, it suddenly felt as though a part of his identity was being forced back into shadow and shyness.

Eskel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he sniffed loudly before answering. "Yup? Geralt, hi. Yeah, they just-just left. I'm ok-I'm okay. You know. Goodbyes are never easy. How's the conference? Heh. Good, good. Tell him I send my regards... Listen, I should get to work. No, I’m okay, I'll call you later... Will do. I l— I love you, too, hon. Buh-bye.” 

Eskel hung up the phone and stared quietly at the bird feeder for a few more minutes before going back inside, feeling as though something in the cosmos had shifted. 

[hoodie-2]

Hours had passed since the "math duel" and the sun had began its descent, setting the town ablaze with a warm orange glow. Krel had spent a portion of the evening exploring, or rather wandering, throughout more of the town, observing it's people. Many of the humans were out in pairs at this hour, some of the pairs had included smaller versions of themselves in whatever activities they were partaking in. He had spied a young pair of, well, human girls at the park, almost identical except in the tones of their skin and the color of their hair, and a pair of adults he assumed were their parents seated on a bench not far away, sitting at polar ends from each other on the bench conversing on their communication devices, otherwise leaving the two children on their own.

The girls themselves didn't appear perturbed or at all bothered by their parents behavior, more entertained by the images on the platform they made with the unusual writing untensils in their tiny hands. Well, all Earthly untensils were unusual in Krel's perspective; pencils, pens, markers, but ones that the two girls used were different even from those. These were maybe the length of an unused pencil but far thicker than a marker and... powdery? His head tipped as he watched one blow away part of her line, the colorful powder pushed into the air in one big gust, as she redrew the line. Her fairer toned sibling patted a hand on her clothes, a blue colored handprint left behind on the green fabric. Both girls took notice of the mark and giggled, the first girl Krel was watching pressed a hand to her own clothes and left a pink handprint similar to the other's blue. The action brought a smile to his face, it has been a while since that happened.

He eyed the girls' parents again. Would it be rude if he just started talking to the children? Their parents didn't seem to be very attentive at the moment. Doesn't that sound familiar? But he was curious about their weird, colorful writing tools. Hm, maybe if he just kept a decent distance as he spoke to them. He didn't want to come off as strange.

"Excuse me," he approached the girls, kneeling to their height at what he believed was a respectable distance. Both girls looked at him, shifting as if they were preparing to run at the first opportunity, Krel wasn't exactly surprised by the reaction seeing as a lot of the commercials on the picture box involved something called 'stranger danger' and he was, afterall, a stranger to them. But he pointed at their drawings, from a closer examination the colorful etchings turned out to be crude imitations of other Earth creatures, a lot of them with long ears and roundish tails and a few like clouds with legs. "What is that you are writing with?"

The wariness in their eyes wavered as they looked down at the drawings around them and then at the untensils in their hands.

"You mean chalk?" The yellow-haired one asked, pointing her free hand to the blue powdery stick she held.

"Chalk," Krel echoed thoughtfully. "And you, ah, draw with it?"

"Yea, dummy," her sister answered. "Haven't you used chalk before?" They gave him identical looks of confusion only someone their age could.

"No, actually, I haven't." Krel answered back quietly. "We don't have anything like 'chalk' where I am from." He looked down at their drawings again, noticing colors other than pink and blue, there was a yellow circle he figured was the sun judging by the green landscape below it and many other colorful dots he supposed were plants. His head tilted so the image wasn't completely upside down in his perspective. "You have some very pretty drawings."

"Do you want to try?" The yellow-haired girl asked, holding out her chalk stick to him.

He eyed the shrunken piece of blue in her open palm. "A- are you sure?"

"Sure!" The girl chirped, a smile spreading over her features, a matching one on her sister's as well. "We do this all the time, its fun."

Krel took the chalk from her, rolling it and turning it in his hand, blue powder stuck to his palm wherever it touched. He looked up to see the girl reach behind her sister and pull out another stick of chalk, purple this time. They went back to scribbling on the bricks around them. He watched as their creativity grew and spread, narrowly crossing over each other's work and somehow still blending together.

Looking down at the emptiness around him where their chalk hadn't yet touched. What would he draw, he wondered. Things considered artistic escaped him, even on his planet; he couldn't understand poetry, the closest he gets to crafting is inventing gadgets, even basic drawing on a telepad wasn't something he had much skill in. What could he draw? Well, shapes are pretty simple.

He started with a triangle, Earth's history was full of them according to Kubritz and her research teams. Ancient tombs and monuments to societies that have long since passed, the triangle was acknowledged as the strongest structure, those words rang true clearly. A square, the basic form of most present day structures; there wasn't anything too spectacular about it, a little more space than a triangle, sure but meh. Then a circle, a shape Krel was most familiar with, there wasn't a screen or viewing monitor in Akiridion-5 that did not have circles, and even then there were links that connected them to more circles. On Earth, circles meant unity to some and a means of 'alien' communication to others - Kubritz.

"Can't you draw?" The brown-haired girl asked as she crawled over to look at his work.

"I am not very talented." Krel admitted. "But drawing with chalk is fun."

"Try drawing your family." Her sister suggested as she joined them. "That helps me sometimes."

Krel hummed at that logic. It was sound enough, even if he was currently at odds with his family and it was an extremely delicate situation. But they are human children, it was probably best to go along with it.

He started with Aja, forcing himself to recall her human form; it wasn't perfect, especially since he was limited to one color but he knew. Next his mother, whose disguise he's only seen a handful of times so this may be a little more difficult. That was nothing to drawing his father. How does one draw face fur?

The girls giggled at the etching.

"That one looks like a monkey." The yellow-haired one pointed to his etching. His gaze roamed over the attempted drawing and felt laughter bubbling in his chest.

"It seems you are right." Oh, how was Krel going to look at his father's face without laughing now?

He looked around them, seeing that the sky was gradually getting darker, getting closer to the time that younglings would be taken back to their homes. The girls' parents were still occupied with their own priorities, poor girls.

"I suppose I should go," he sighed, giving back the chalk he was given, "you will be going home soon." Krel did not expect such saddened expressions at his words.

"Do you have to?" The brown-haired girl asked, watching him stand up.

"I'm afraid so." He dusted the blue powder on to his jeans. "But I'm sure we will see each other again."

"Really?" The yellow-haired girl asked excitedly.

"Of course," Krel chuckled. "I wander around when I have free time." He watched as they shared a look, tipping his head as they stood as well, the yellow-haired one picking up the blue chalk and holding it out to him again.

"My name's Abby," she said, bouncing a little on her heels as she shook the chalk at him.

"And I'm Gabby." Her sister added proudly. "You can have the blue one, then we can draw again next time. Right?"

A smile pulled at his lips again. It would be a shame to see their faces fall again in sadness. He took the chalk from Abby. "That sounds fun. My name is Krel, it was nice to meet you both."

They waved at him as he walked away, pocketing the chalk he was gifted. Maybe he can find out where they get it next time so he can obtain more himself. He admired the blue powder that tainted his palm, opening and closing his hand, it was somehow amusing how the color clung to his flesh. It was almost as if his real body was peering through, if only.

After a bit of wandering, the sky growing darker, and some of the street lights were blinking to life Krel found himself at a back alley behind some stores that surrounded the park, if his memory of the town map was correct. It was empty of any lifeform that was human as he stepped in, looking around at his surroundings carefully; four-legged creatures that he was told were cats saw his approach and ran off into hiding; even smaller creatures scurried away behind them, leaving Krel alone with the garbage bins of two different sizes, the walls of the buildings were clean aside from the occasional stain near the bins or moss that grew more toward the ground.

He wasn't sure what compelled him to do so but he pulled the piece of chalk from his pocket and wrote the equation from the math duel, following it with his correct work and answer. Satisfaction washed over him as he wrote his answer, the right answer, his original answer. He was still a bit stuck on his why's during the duel, he knew he did a good thing for Seamus so what did it matter anymore. Why did Seamus stare at him when it was over?

Krel's hand moved to write another equation, it was more complex but watching the letters and numbers come into being it made sense to him, it always made sense to him, similar to cataloging past events and his planning for the future. It was comforting as he continued the equation, spreading it further along the wall, blue clear against the red brick but still convoluted. Had he been less taken in with his work he probably would have felt more guilty about how much of the chalk he was using up. He didn't notice the approaching person behind him until they addressed him.

"Kubritz?"

Krel whipped around, instinctively taking up a defensive battle stance startling the newcomer. That was... Seamus? And was holding an item in each hand, they didnt seem to be weapons though so he could relax somewhat. Not completely though, he has noticed around the education prison that some human males in their age group tended to be, well, boorish and found amusement in harassing other males they perceived as weak, and Krel's human form unfortunately suited that perception. Primitive. He'll be sure to correct that.

"Uh... hey," Seamus waved one of the things he held, the action stiff. His eyes flicked beyond Krel, looking over the equations behind him. "What're you working on?" His gaze followed the equation to the start, lingering on the work shown. "Looks complicated."

"You have no idea." Krel wasn't trusting this interaction, not that there was any reason to.

"Hey- Look, you can relax, uh, whatever move that is," Seamus gestured to Krel's posture with whatever it was he held. "What is that anyway? Judo? Jujitsu?"

Krel eased his stance but kept a leery eye still on the human. "Nothing you have ever seen, I assure you." He answered in little more than a monotone.

"Ookay...?" The human coughed, taking a few meeger steps toward him with a hand extended outward. "You want a burrito? I dunno if you've eaten yet or anything but it's an idea right?" He gave a pitiful laugh as he stopped only a few feet away, the thing in his hand slumping over his fingers like it was trying to slip out of his grip.

As a being of energy, Krel had no need to consume organic materials, but he has been curious. On another hand Earth has a history in poisoning consumables for enemies, again not that it should affect him, maybe.

A sigh escaped Seamus, seeming to notice Krel's reluctance. "I just want to apologize for my behavior." He said, "You didn't deserve it. You earned the grade fair and square."

"I suppose I should say that I'm relieved you've gained some sense." Krel retorted, not completely convinced.

"Okay... I earned that." Krel saw Seamus' grip tighten around the 'burrito', his restraint was admirable. "But you didn't have to let me win, so why did you?"

Krel finally took the burrito, examining it for a moment before tearing the aluminum wrapping like he's seen other humans do and bite into it. The texture was strange, soft, soggy; the taste was savory, it was weird feeling the crunch of vegetables but overall it wasn't bad but he didn't have much in expectations, so, another point for Earth.

"Wanna sit?" Seamus gestured to the the sidewalk. Krel didn't object, taking another bite of his burrito and joining him on the cold cement just a yard or so from a flickering lamppost.

"I had nothing to gain," he answered finally, getting a startled look, "from winning the math duel. Nothing to lose either, unlike you."

The human's head ducked almost sheepishly. He must have recalled how loud his father was in bellowing their agreement. If it could have been called that.

"Again, I'm sorry," he declared. "My dad just has high expectations. Very high."

"Understandable."

"Is it really?"

Krel frowned at him. "Just because my parents are not present does not mean I don't have my own problems with them."

Seamus' face turned even more guilt ridden. "R-right, sorry," he stammered, a red hue spreading over his features. He was quiet for a moment, taking large distracting bites of his own burrito. The silence allowed Krel a moment to gather his thoughts about the present situation, and possibly plan for what could happen next. Maybe he could somehow make Seamus an ally, like Aja had with the majority of their peers, to keep his disguise here. It certainly would make things easier than researching every tidbit about this mudball to blend in while Morando outsources the search for Gaylen's core. The question was how to do so.

"You," Seamus spoke up again, breaking the silence between them, "you came from a warring country, right, like Aja Tarron and her family?"

The words brought a bitter curl to his lips. Her family, may as well be, ironic, consider she used to run away from her family at every opportunity.

"Yes," Krel answered softly. "Maybe even the same country, if luck would have it." Some luck that would be.

"What happened? I-if you don't mind me asking."

The expression on Seamus' face was different from before; softer, solemn, perhaps even sympathetic. It's been a clear background to his class that Krel escaped from a war torn country with no family besides Morando who was discharged due to injury during the fight. Could this be the opportunity he needed to make Seamus his ally? To make a 'friend'? In one quote Krel had heard, he now understood. When opportunity knocks, it would be wise to open the door.

"I-it all happened so fast," Krel began, quickly coming up with details to twist the story from the traumatic reality. "It happened on the coronation day for the royal heirs; my parents both had high political and military positions so my sister and I were allowed good seats to see the crowning," he kept his voice low, allowing some of the emotion he kept at bay to fill his words, "everyone was excited, we all had high hopes. The princess hadn't made her appearance yet when the attack happened." Krel swallowed thickly as the real memory came to mind. The running, his parents ordering him and Zadra to find Aja, falling behind, and being left behind. "It was chaos; people were running everywhere, trying to find each other and to find shelter, soldiers and their weapons, the cannon fire..." his eyes were leaking again, it was too much already with so little spoken. What was wrong with him? "I- I was too slow, my... my parents- my sister, gah, what is wrong with me?" He took the fabric of his shirt, quickly trying to wipe away the streaming liquid, his chest felt heavy, his core ached. Krel hadn't felt like this since he first found Aja and their parents on Earth. His head hurt.

A hand touched his shoulder making him freeze up. "It's okay." Seamus' voice was calm, relaxing even. "You've been through a lot, huh?"

Krel sniffed, trying to regain some composure before answering. "You have no idea."

[closedmadness]

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄

summary: the ultimate mean boy in riverdale high is you. everyone knew that. there was just a cold, tall walls around you that is hard to break down. however, sweet pea decides to climb it up instead

pairings: sweet pea x male reader

warnings → reader is an asshole (slightly)・swearing ・slight violence・physical abuse・shitty parents・homophobic slur・a tiny bit of fluff

a/n: There will be a part 2!

Sweet Pea watched you smoke on the bleachers, alone and glaring at everyone who dares look at your way. You were clearly not a people person from how you act around.

“Who’s that?” Sweet Pea asked, nudging Jughead with his elbow and pointing at your direction discreetly.

The corefour, Toni, Cheryl and Fangs stops whatever they were doing to look at where he pointed and after seeing you, the corefour instantly looked away. “Why? Why do you ask?” Jughead asked, seemingly scared.

Sweet Pea furrowed his brows; all of the corefour seemed scared of you. “Just curious.” He replied.

“His name is (Y/n) (L/n).” Cheryl answered for everyone. “He's the worst type of boy in this school.” She added with a distaste look.

Archie was next to chime in, “He curses at anyone who looks at his way, beats up anyone who mess with him and hates everybody.” His explanation was pretty accurate and the corefour plus Cheryl nodded in agreement, their fear plastered their expression.

“Even Cheryl can't stand up to him.” Veronica comments, earning a glare from the red head, but she didn't deny it.

“The only idiot who stand up to him is Reggie. He kinda have a death wish.” Betty shrugged.

Sweet Pea turned back to look at you and sees that Reggie was now in front of you, obviously provoking you and trying to get a rise out of you. Everyone watched anxiously as Reggie, alone, kept poking your chest with his finger. Though, in Sweet Pea's eyes, Reggie was failing to get a rise out of you as you just sat there on the bleachers looking at him uninterested, blowing out smokes.

They could make out what Reggie was telling you; calling you names, saying you don't belong anywhere, that you deserve to die for being such a jerk. However, you remained unfazed, as if you were used to being called and said to like that. A sigh left your lips as you dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, standing up from the bleachers. Reggie smirked, about to make an snarky comment, but a fist colliding with his face prevents him and he was knocked to the ground. Everyone's eyes widened as you hovered above him, stepping on his hands and errupting a painful yell from him.

“You don't really learn, do you?” Your low and dark voice send a shiver down Sweet Pea's spine. “I told you many times to stay the fuck away from me.” You spat harshly, before raising your clenched fist and punching Reggie in the face with full force.

Everyone panicked as you punched him repeatedly, trying to find a way to stop the fight but failing miserably. No one can stop you, not even Weatherbee, and if you continued punching Reggie he might not live. A loud crack was heard, possibly from Reggie's nose.

Sweet Pea watched the way you punched Reggie — he somehow recognized rage in the way you did, like there was something else you've been going through and you're just letting it out on the Bulldog, switching your hands once in a while when the other hurt too much punching his face. Reggie attempted to push you off of him and he pushed your stomach, and it was just a glimpse but Sweet Pea saw the way pain appeared on your face, before you turned back to repeatedly punching Reggie.

“Stop! Mr. (L/n)! Enough!” Weatherbee yelled, rushing over, but not getting close to you completely.

You looked up from Reggie to him, rage radiating off of you, before it slowly disappeared and was replaced with an annoyed look. You clicked your tongue and got off of Reggie, kicking him on his stomach in the process. Your fist was busted open and bloody, but you didn't care as you grabbed your bag and walked off without turning back.

Sweet Pea stood up from his seat, alarming his friends. “Woah, woah, where are you going?” Jughead asked, stopping him by grabbing his arm.

“To aid (Y/n).” He responded, shrugging casually.

They looked at him as if he was crazy. “Are you crazy? You'll only get a punch in return for trying to help him.” Archie said as he shakes his head.

Sweet Pea smirked, “What a challenge.” Before walking off to follow after you.

The corefour and Cheryl turned to the two serpents, giving them a look. Fangs shrugged, “He likes challenges.”

“It's his fault if he ended up having a blackeye and a bruised lip.” Toni added, earning a nod of agreement from Fangs. They continued to talk all the while the corefour worried about the boy’s safety.

Sweet Pea saw you sitting by the wall in the hallway, clenching and unclenching your fist. Your knuckles were bloody, busted open by the force of punching Reggie in the face. “Stop doing that.” He said, crouching down in front of you, first aid kit in his hands.

You glared at him, “Get the fuck away from me.” Venom can be heard from your tone, but Sweet Pea didn't flinch even a bit. He knew it was coming, seeing as you always did it to everyone.

He ignored your words and stared at your busted open knuckles. “If you keep doing that, it'll get worst.” He scolded, making you roll your eyes.

“What do you want?” You snapped, furrowing your brows in irritation and glaring at him.

“Can't you see what I want?” He retorted, holding out the first aid kit and showing it to you. You rolled your eyes, turning your head away from him and avoiding eye contact. “Let me take a look at it.” He said and grabbed your right hand gently.

You flinched at first, not feeling used to someone being gentle, but didn't smack his hands away. He started working quietly, treating your bloody knuckles as you clenched your jaw and prevented yourself from hissing in pain at the sting.

The way he held your hand as he treated it was so gentle, you could almost hear his thoughts of not wanting it to hurt you too much. There was care and gentleness in his movement; something that you've never experienced before from anyone, ever since the day your mother left you to deal with your alcoholic father. The thought made you so bitter and couldn't help but bite your tongue.

After wrapping a bondage around your right hand, Sweet Pea moved to treat the other hand, his move as gentle and caring as before. Your eyes fell back on him, studying him closely — he was the first one to approach you without getting scared. He was also the first one to show you kindness. You didn't understand why he was being nice to you. Certainly his friends warned him about you, based on how it looked earlier after you caught him pointing at you discreetly. His friends looked scared when they were explaining who you were, and you wondered why this guy didn't find you intimidating or scary.

Instead, he went on helping you treat your busted knuckles. You don't know how to react to it.

“Okay, it's done.” He said, holding both of your hands and looking at it rather proudly.

You looked down on your hands. The bondage aren't wrapped neatly like how the nurses do it, but it was proper enough to cover your wound. There was some sort of signs that he seemed used to treating other's wounds, then you realized he was a serpent. He's probably used to treating wounds from fighting with people.

“Yeah, you’re done. Now, get the hell away from me.” You said, looking at him.

He chuckled, “Are you this always rude?” You rolled your eyes and turned your head away, deciding to just ignore him until he stops bothering you.

You knew he was gonna leave anyway; his kindness won't last long. He'll leave you eventually. Even if you became friends with him, he'll end up being like your mother. He'll end up leaving you, and you'll be alone again. That's a big no-no — being attached to someone and suddenly be left alone is the worst feeling ever.

Even though you were thankful at him for showing you kindness, you had no plan of getting to know him.

“I'm Sweet Pea.” He introduced despite having noticed of your plan to ignore him. “Just thought I'd let you know.” He said before standing up and walking away, deciding he'd bother you tomorrow again.

There was just something in you that he wanted to solve — maybe, he wants to help you in whatever you were going through. So he decided, it was best to climb up a wall that cannot be break down.

You got home from school, immediately noticing the intense smell of alcohol reeking all over the house. Your lips turned downward into a frown, movement becoming cautious as you entered the living room. You met with beer bottles scattering around the floor and the whole living room being a mess, your father sitting on the couch seemingly drunk.

His kind of drunk was the worst.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He said, narrowing his eyes accusingly.

You rolled your eyes, dropping your bag on the floor as starting to pick up the bottles. “School. Where else would I be?”

“Stop lying to me, (Y/n). I know you went to a guy's house. A fag like you can't keep your dick in your pants.” He spat with venom filled tone. “Your mother was a whore, a disgrace! I'm not surprised you grew up to be like her.”

“Well, at least she was trying to provide money for us even when it was through prostitution, unlike you who's still jobless at this age.” You retorted, a thing that you regretted instantly.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Your father was up in a second, smacking your hand harshly causing the beer bottle you were holding to smash on the floor. You didn't say anything and just glared at him, in a defense stance and stepping backwards. It happened so quickly; within a second your father picked up a piece of shattered beer bottle from the floor and slashed your arm with it, and you stumbled back in shock.

Your butt hit the floor as your hand fly up to hold your arm that was slashed by him, pain instantly filling up your body. He was standing in front of your within a second, holding the bloody piece of beer bottle, glaring down at you. “I- I'm- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I- I didn't mean to talk to you like that.” You stuttered, apologizing, fear eating you up from the inside.

“You'll be sorry once I teach you a lesson.” He said angrily through gritted teeth, before hovering above you and digging the piece of beer bottle on your stomach, a pain filled scream escaping your mouth.

This abuse continued on for a while, his fist colliding with every part of your body as you cried and screamed, begging for him to stop. Your stomach hurts from getting slashed by the piece of beer bottle and him punching it only made the pain increase more.

By the time he was done with you, you were covered in bruises and cuts, your lips busted open, with a blackeye, a bruise forming on your cheek. Every inch of your body hurt as you stared blankly at the ceiling, wondering what your life would be if he wasn't your father. If you had a decent family. Maybe, you wouldn't have been harsh and mean to everyone.

You were just a scared little boy hiding behind the cold, harsh, mean mask. Scared of your father's constant abuse, scared of getting attached to someone and being left alone like how your mother left you, scared of letting anyone in. You were scared of everything. You didn't want people to think you're weak, so you act all tough.

You just didn't want to be left alone, and that's why you always told everyone to fuck off.

Then, your mind wanders off to Sweet Pea. How he showed you kindness, how he wasn't scared of you, how he treated your wound so gently and caringly, and thought that if he was with you right now, he would probably have treated your wound.

You felt warmth in him.

A sudden exhaution took you over after remembering him and you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep, not even bothering to go back to your room.

You thought of being all alone tomorrow again, unaware that Sweet Pea had no plan to stay away from you.

© prettymadness — all rights reserved. do not repost or translate without my permission. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[geniusgub]

north//chapter ten

genre: angst

pairing: season ten spencer reid x female oc

warnings: panic attack, talk of maeve and that whole situation, death, mention of drugs and relapse

word count: 9.8k

summary: spencer gets to see another part of amelia’s ugly side and amelia gets more than she bargained for when she steps onto her balcony

also i just wanted to say that the panic attack described in this chapter is based off of my experience with panic attacks. nobody has the same experience, but this is based off mine. also part two, i don’t know how medication for panic attacks really work, what i wrote is literally based off my experience with migraine medication. so if it’s not accurate, then i apologize. i also apologize for taking so long to write this. school was a lot and my mental health sucks. but it’s here now!! enjoy

AMELIA

"Yaz, if you don't stop moving, I'm going to purposely poke your fucking eye out!"

"It's not my fault! Quinn keeps nudging me!"

"No, I'm not!"

I roll my eyes at the two girls in front of me, flicking my wrist to put the final touches on Yaz’s makeup. "You two need to shut up." I then grab Quinn’s shoulders and force her to move against the wall, right next to Yaz. They continue to quietly bicker with each other.

"So," Frankie speaks up from across my studio, lounged back in a bean bag chair, fiddling away with a camera of his own, "Lia, you're coming up on one year with your genius doctor FBI boyfriend, right?"

"Mhm," I hum, too focused on painting my friends' bodies to give a full and coherent answer.

"Do you guys have plans yet? Dinner? Movie? I don't even know what you guys do as dates. In fact, I don't really know much about this guy at all. Are we even sure he exists?" Michael teases, waving around his bottle of beer. Quinn squirms away from my grasp to take a sip of his beer and only comes back when I tug on her hand. 

"No plans yet," I mumble, biting my tongue for a moment as I focus on getting the swirls of blue and yellow just right. If the painting isn’t absolutely perfect then I’ll never be happy with the way the pictures come out. And if I’m not happy with the pictures that come from today then that just means I wasted my time today. "We don't make plans in advance, really. His job doesn't allow for that."

"His job doesn't allow for that?" Dani scoffs. "Stupid excuse. Horrible excuse. Men are trash. How can you be sure that all the time he’s spending ‘at work’ and not with another girl? Or maybe another guy? I don’t know, I don’t judge. Maybe he’s-"

"Dani," I hiss, twisting my head to send her a pointed look, "he's an FBI agent. He hunts down serial killers for a living. He travels for work on a whim and it’s not a big deal. He’s not gay and it’s rude to speculate about someone’s sexuality, especially if you’ve never met them."

"But don't you want him around him more?" Frankie jumps up from his seat and throws his arm around my shoulder, effectively pulling away from my work. He thinks that grabbing me will diffuse the situation, bring some humor, keep me from getting too upset. But it actually does all the opposite and I can feel a ball of heat growing and swelling in my stomach.

I’ve been friends with this bunch since college. We all went to Carnegie Mellon together and even lived in a house together in junior and senior year, but they aren’t always the best of friends. Clearly. They can be quite judgemental and exclusive when it comes to people outside of our friend group. Jenna and I commonly find ourselves sharing looks across rooms when one of our friends says something rude or stupid. They’re not the best, but we’ve been through so much together and they are all I have.

I push Frankie away from me as best as I can. "Do you guys just not like him because he's a federal agent?" The room goes silent and that's enough of an answer for me. I scoff, moving across the room to grab some more paint and squirt it into my palette. I wind up putting too much on my palette and groan, screwing off the top of the paint tube and trying to scoop the extra paint back in. The longer I try, the less gets back inside the tube and the more my frustration starts to grow, the more tears well up in my eyes. "You're complaining about my boyfriend who you've never met just because he works for the FBI. Ridiculous. Unfair."

"We get arrested all the time and all we do is spray paint empty brick walls," Dani protests, and, again, judging by the silence of the others in the room, I know that they have no problems with what Dani is saying. "It's bullshit! We should be able to express ourselves creatively without having to do art in the middle of the night and worry about being thrown in a holding cell."

"First of all; express yourself creatively on a canvas, not on someone’s property. Second; I can promise that you’re not getting arrested by federal agents. You’re getting arrested by cops and my boyfriend is not a cop," I growl at my supposed friends. I don't get angry easily. In fact, I'm a very patient person and I've been told that by many people on many occasions. My first instinct is to never get mad. Anger doesn’t get anyone anywhere. I prefer to have conversations instead of screaming matches and to hear out the other side's argument. But this is different. This is Spencer we’re talking about. I love Spencer more than anything and since meeting him, I know I'd do anything to protect him, even if that means arguing with my friends on his behalf. It’s not fair for them to be making these judgments about him. "You get arrested by Virginia Police so if you wanna hate anyone then hate them. Don't you dare all go hating my boyfriend for no reason. Don't hate him when you've never met him."

I throw my palette onto a table, not caring about paint splatter, and grab my phone, leaving my studio and heading into the fresh air. My heart is pounding against my tightening chest as I lean against the brick wall and slide down to an incredibly uncomfortable crouching position, tucking my head between my knees. The stance almost instantly makes my back ache and my neck sting but I ignore it. Maybe I deserve the pain. My breathing quickly gets more and more shallow and my head goes light. I try to lift my head to bring sunlight into my eyes, but my head seems far too heavy to move. I reach for my phone and it slips right out of my fingers when they tremble too much for me to get a grip on the thin metal. This feeling is helpless, painful, too familiar. I can’t seem to get a grasp on myself and I’m spiraling out of control more and more by the second. Every gasp for breath turns into a sob and every attempt to move my head turns into overwhelming shame when I notice people passing by are staring at me and whispering.

It's almost perfect that my phone starts to buzz on the ground and I manage to open my eyes enough to see that Spencer is calling me. I attempt another deep breath to calm myself down but it doesn't work and it only makes my grip on reality dwindle. It's getting harder to breathe and my eyes are stinging with tears. With every pounding beat of my heart, my chest gets tighter and tighter and tighter until it feels like someone has successfully squeezed my lungs flat. 

The buzzing of my phone should bring me back to reality but it just makes it worse. It’s an annoying, persistent sound that just won’t stop. It won’t stop. It just won’t stop. I want to answer, I need to answer, but I just wish the sound would stop. The way to get it to stop is to answer. Just answer. It’ll stop if you answer. You’ll feel better if you answer. I slam my hand down on the ground and grope the floor until I manage to grab my phone and bring it up to my ear.

"Hi, love," Spencer's chipper voice comes through the receiver, none the wiser to my current situation. He's been away on a case since early yesterday morning, having woken me up while getting dressed, kissing me goodbye, and leaving my apartment to get to the BAU. I would kill to have him here right now. Maybe he could talk me down and reteach me how to breathe. Maybe he could reinflate my lungs and kiss my hands until they stop trembling. 

I try to answer, but nothing coherent comes out. I let out a strangled sob, my fingernails digging into my knee so hard that I worry I might draw blood. My inability to communicate is frustrating and that ball of heat in my stomach rises up to my chest. The trembling overpowers me and I almost drop my phone again. 

"Amelia? What's wrong? Are you okay? Talk to me," Spencer says quickly, and it's only followed by more choked wheezes from me. "You've gotta breathe, okay? Take really deep breaths for me. In through your nose and out from your mouth.”

His instructions seem simple enough to do. Just breathe. That’s all I have to do. It’s simple. Just breathe. I open my mouth to try to speak to him, to tell him what’s happening, even though I’m pretty sure he can tell, but all that comes out is fragments of words and whimpers.

"It’s okay, you’re okay. You don’t need to speak. In through your nose, out from your mouth, remember? Can you try that for me?" I’m not sure how long I’m sitting there for, on the phone, trying to focus on my boyfriends’ voice as he tries to calm me down. It feels like I’m sitting for a few hours, but my tiny grasp on reality lets me know that it’s been ten minutes at the most. I just do what I can to focus on Spencer and what he is telling me to do and how I can calm down. I clench my fists and finally succeed in doing what he tells me to after a while, breathing heavily in through my nose, my chest burning as the heaving comes to a gradual stop. I breathe out and then repeat the process a few times. “There you go. You’re doing so well. I’m right here for you, okay? Take all the time you need.”

He continues to tell me sweet nothings and encourages me to breathe until my breathing has regulated and my head lays slack against my knees. Spencer lets just a few moments of silence go by to let me collect myself before he speaks again. “Are you feeling a little better now?” I gather enough energy, the last of it, to hum a confirmation. "Where are you right now?" Spencer asks next. Even just his voice calms me down. Maybe it's his experience with his job but he sounds so calm right now. Nobody in my life has ever been able to remain so calm during one of my panic attacks, leaving me to cry and heave and occasionally faint in private. But Spencer's voice sounds so soothing and calm and low that just him speaking helps me more than anything. More than any useless, overwhelming, smothering hug ever has. 

"Studio.”

"Okay. You should get home and get some rest. " 

"Mhm.”

"You shouldn't drive. I don't know if you did, but either way, please don't drive. Take the train or call someone to drive you home," Spencer pleads. "I was calling to tell you that we're on our way home. We closed the case and we're leaving in a few minutes for the airport, but don't wait for me. You need to go home and get rest. Panic attacks are really taxing and you need to re-energize. I'll come over when I get back but you need to get home."

"Amelia?" I hear Jenna's voice approaching me but I don't even bother to look up. "Are you okay?" 

I've exhausted my energy on speaking just those few words to Spencer so when Jenna gets close enough to me, I just lift the phone up for her. She crouches down beside me and grabs my phone, wedging it between her shoulder and her ear as she pushes my hair out of my face. I try to lean away from her touch but I can’t get very far. "Who is this? Oh, hi, Spencer. This is Jenna. She's right next to me. I can definitely bring her home. Don't worry, I'll get her home and I'll stay with her until you come around, it's no problem. I'll take her phone and let you know when I get her home. Okay, bye."

I finally lift my head and look at Jenna, watching her tuck my phone into her pocket, giving me this stupid, pitiful smile that I’ve seen far too many times in my life. A half smile that says, it sucks that you’re going through something but I only kind of care. "Mr. Genius says I gotta bring you home and keep you safe until he comes over and I don't feel like ending up in prison, so let's go, babe." I don’t have it in me to correct her to day Doctor Genius instead of Mister Genius. Jenna holds her hands out to help me up.

I bring my shaking hands up to hers and let her pull me to my feet and lead me over to her car, feeling weak and useless as she pulls the seatbelt over my chest. I pout as she dotes over me, humming casually to herself just so she can make this situation not so tense, but it just makes it seem like she doesn’t care. "Okay," Jenna says, hand poised on the passenger side door, "I'm gonna go kick everyone out of your studio and then we'll get going. Sit tight."

///

"Hi, Spencer, I'm Jenna,"

"Hi, Jenna. Is she okay?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping on the couch. She didn't even wanna go upstairs to bed so she asked me to put on a record and she just passed out on the couch."

Everything sounds foggy as I wake up what I assume is hours later in an uncomfortable position, curled up on my couch. My head is pounding and my eyes feel puffy and I'm now regretting not forcing myself to get into bed. I would have much rathered waking up with my duvet wrapped around me and my head on Spencer’s pillow. Waking up on this stiff couch with my toes virtually frozen and my head twisted uncomfortably on the armrest isn’t how I wanted to wake up post-panic attack. 

I open my eyes just in time to see Spencer setting his go-bag down beside the coffee table, sending me that same stupid, pitiful smile. "Hi," he whispers, coming to sit on the floor in front of me. He raises his hand to drag his fingertips along my cheekbone and the soft touch makes my eyes flutter closed. I’ve gotten used to being without him when he’s away on cases, and having Spencer with me makes all the separated days easier. I know that the moments like this make up for the times I lay awake at night, staring at the ceiling, because I can’t sleep if his arms around me and if I can’t hear his heartbeat. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Mm," I hum, but it's not much of an answer, not a satisfying one, at the least. 

"It's good that you got some sleep but you gotta have something to eat too. Do you want me to order something?" I nod slowly at his suggestion that I couldn’t care less about. I just want his hands on me. "Okay, I will. Sit tight, I'll be right back."

A whine falls from my lips as I reach my hand out for his, hoping to keep him from leaving. I just need his touch and his love and his affection to feel better. I don’t need sleep or food or anything he could possibly suggest that helps a person relax after a panic attack, based on this study I read. I love his facts but I just want him to hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay, even if it doesn’t feel like it will. The boiling hot baths I usually take after a panic attack never do the trick. Nothing does the trick like physical affection does.

"Don't go," the words could barely be considered words, especially not after I mumble them through almost closed lips.

"I’m not leaving," Spencer crouches down again and presses a kiss to my forehead, and I’m sure he realizes that a kiss was the wrong move because I just keep trying to pull him closer. “I just wanna order you something to eat, okay? Let me bring you upstairs and get you in bed and then I’ll call for something. Is that okay?”

Spencer is sitting up on his knees before I even try to answer because even though he's posed a question, he doesn't need an answer. He knows how to help me from the studies he reads and he knows what needs to be done and he's relatively stubborn. So despite how my body feels heavy and how I wish I could just melt into the couch cushions with my arms wrapped around my boyfriend, I force myself to sit up. Spencer scoops me up and carries me up the stairs, setting me down in bed and tugging the duvet all the way up to my chin.

Spencer goes a bit overboard with tucking me in, but I don’t mind, as long as his hands are on me. And he is happy with his work, he finally takes off his peacoat and sets it on the edge of the bed. "I'm just gonna go run downstairs and order something and make some tea, okay? Did you take your medication?" He turns away from me and goes towards the stairs, digging his phone out of his pocket.

"Huh?"

Spencer halts himself from walking down the stairs, turning his chin over his shoulder. "Your medication," he turns his body towards me. "You know, for your panic attack?"

I shake my head, eyebrows furrowed so much that it makes my headache worse. "No, no, I don't have any."

My fuzzy brain can't exactly decipher the look on Spencer's face, but he turns his back to me yet again and rushes down the stairs. I let out a hum at his confusing reaction, but it turns into a disappointed whine as he gets further and further away from me. So, still in my post-panic attack state, I reach for Spencer's coat for some sort of comfort.

As I tug on it, something falls out of the pocket. I blindly reach for it and have every intention of tucking it back into the pocket it came from, but the cool metal of the object heightens my senses, as if the object brings me back down to earth. I hold Spencer's jacket to my chest as I lay back down against my pillows, looking down at the metal circle in my hand. There's a triangle on the front- or maybe the back?- with a Roman numeral one on it, with the words unity, service, and recovery around the three sides. I turn it over in my hand and find a compass rose with only north labeled.

"Amelia?" My head pops up when I tune into Spencer's footsteps on the last stair, his phone in his hand and his untied converse in the other. He drops his shoes on the floor and then leans against the wall, his eyes traveling down to the floor instead of on me. I can feel his shame from all the way across the room and how his embarrassment starts to consume him. He instantly shuts himself off from me and it’s so disheartening to see how easy it is for him to do so. 

"It fell out," I hold it out to him, despite our distance. "What did you order?"

Spencer doesn't move as I hold the medallion out to him, but all he does is tuck his hands in his pocket and study the patterns on his socks. "You don't wanna know what it is?"

I drop my hand against the bed and sigh, having used too much energy to keep my arm up for longer than two seconds, nuzzling my cheek against Spencer's jacket and trying to get a whiff of his cologne. If he won’t come to me then I’ll have to get a piece of him in my bed, even if it’s just the scent on his jacket. I need his comfort. "I know what it is, dove."

He takes a long breath and then walks over, taking the medallion out of my hand and shoving it in his pocket. "Pizza. I'm gonna go change and I'll be right back."

I hadn't even realized he had brought his go-bag upstairs at some point, but I only see it when he carries it into the bathroom. He doesn't shut the door all the way and I find myself wondering why. Maybe he doesn't want to completely shut himself away from me because he can tell I need him close. Or maybe because he didn’t want to rebuild his emotional walls around me, and closing the bathroom door would separate us. But I don’t have the time to come to a clear and coherent hypothesis before he has returned.

He's in a tee shirt and plaid pajama pants when he returns, dropping his bag onto the floor and letting out a heavy sigh. I watch him as he walks around the bed to grab his shoes and begins the process of shoving them into his bag, even though he doesn't need to. He knows he doesn’t need to clean his stuff up immediately. But I notice his medallion in his hand, squeezed between his pointer and middle fingers, and it makes me call out to him. His head whips over to me and I realize I have nothing to say. I need him beside me but he clearly has so much going on in his head and in all the time we've been together, I've never seen his medallion. That makes me nervous. Is this why he's acting like this? Is he thinking about getting his hands on a drug that will ruin his life?

I have nothing to say. But Spencer is staring at me, waiting for me to ask whatever question he thinks I’m needing to ask, as I clutch his jacket like my life depends on it, eyes half-closed as I start to struggle to breathe again. I open my mouth but nothing comes out and a tear drips down my cheek.

Spencer moves to kneel on the bed, pulling his jacket out of my hands and replacing the fabric with his body. "Hey, I'm right here, Lia, just breathe. Sit up for me, sweetheart," He places his hands on my waist and helps me sit up, coaxing my head between my knees. He somehow knows exactly what to do, despite not being able to see me during my previous attack. He knows just how softly I need to be touched and what volume to speak at without overwhelming me. "It's okay, it's okay, I'm right here, don't worry. I don’t want you to get worked up again." I manage to nod, and he kisses my forehead as a reward. Spencer just keeps holding me and whispering praises, tucking my head under his chin and rubbing my back with a feather light touch.  “There you go. There’s my girl.”

“I’m okay,” I whisper, but it’s more for myself than for him. 

“Yeah, you are,” he affirms. "Will you talk to me about these attacks and how I can help you?" His sweet voice is so buttery and smooth that I get lost in it, eyes fluttering and almost completely missing his question. I just want him to keep talking, to read me poetry or tell me random facts that I’ll probably never need to know. I just want him to talk, and talk, and talk, and break me away from the prison in my mind. I just want him to distract me.

“Um,” I lean into his touch when he brings his hand into my hair, scratching me behind my ears like a cat. But when I manage to open my eyes and look at him, he’s giving me such a serious look, one that says he means business, and I know that there’s no room for jokes or wit. “I don’t know. I’ve mostly dealt with panic attacks alone. I just let them happen and wait for them to be done.”

Spencer’s eyes widen in surprise but he quickly tries to hide his reaction, clearing his throat as a distraction, but it’s nowhere close to this distraction I had hoped for. “So you don’t know any coping mechanisms or take any medication for panic attacks?” I shake my head no. “Have you ever gone to a doctor or a therapist about this?”

Definitely not the distraction I was hoping for. I reach for the duvet and pull it over my head, deciding to ignore him. I manage to crawl out of Spencer’s lap and curl up on my pillow with my back to him, earning a defeated sigh from my boyfriend beside me. He takes a breath to speak but then the doorbell rings and I can only assume that means that dinner is here. Without a word spoken, Spencer climbs off the bed and goes to answer the door. I hear his chatting quietly with the delivery person before his sock-covered footsteps echo back up the stairs, and he returns with a pizza box.

Spencer just casually suggesting I go to a doctor or a therapist is so obnoxious and annoying and I truly can’t remember a time in our relationship when I was this mad at him. He talks as though a doctor's visit will solve all my problems and if taking a pill will turn me into the healthy, stress-free, mental illness-free girl that I want to be, but never have been, and never will be. I spent my childhood taking care of myself and my brother and I can keep doing that as an adult. I’ve gotten this far in my life, farther than I thought I would, so I’m not going to fix something that isn’t broken. 

Spencer sits at the foot of the bed and sets the pizza box in the middle of the bed, not saying a word as he opens it up and separates the slices. I sit up slowly, rubbing my eyes as I tuck my legs underneath me. I reach for a piece of pizza and lean over the cardboard so I don't get the bed messy. If the bed gets messy and crumby then Spencer won’t be able to sleep tonight, knowing that there’s particles of food all over the duvet. He seems to be on the same train of thought because he refuses to move the piece of pizza in his hand away from the box. If I wasn’t so upset, I’d be telling him how cute he is and finding his cleanliness endearing and suggesting that we eat at the table downstairs instead of my bed. But the tension is so thick that I could cut it with a knife, and I don’t have the energy to ease it. But apparently, Spencer does.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Spencer asks casually, keeping his eyes down as he takes another bite of his pizza. "The way you talk,” he pauses and considers his words very carefully, “you've clearly had panic attacks before."

"It's not a big deal."

"Amelia," the stony, serious tone of his voice makes my head pop up. He looks annoyed, as if he doesn't believe what I'm saying. I haven’t yet learned that lying to a profiler is useless. "You had a panic attack on a public sidewalk and it was so bad that you went nonverbal. Panic attacks happen to a lot of people but they're serious and debilitating and you should get treatment for them."

"Don’t tell me what I should do. I don't need treatment," I answer far too quickly. "I know you have your degree in psychology or whatever but I don’t need to hear it. I’ve taken care of myself for this long and I actually happen to think I’ve done a pretty good job at it, so I don’t need medication or therapy to interfere.”

Realization flashes on Spencer's face and he puts his piece of pizza down, leaning his elbows against his knees. "Seeking out help doesn’t make you weak."

I scoff and roll my eyes into the back of my head, but maybe that's just to avoid eye contact or to repress the tears that burn at my ducts. "That's not what this is about."

"I didn’t mention anything about my degree, Amelia,” Spencer snaps. “And all I’m trying to do is help you. You can go to a therapist and discuss coping mechanisms and figure out why you even have them or go to a doctor and get medication that will regulate attacks and maybe you'll get something to take after you get attacks, it'll be so much-"

"No!" I shout, cutting him off, my hands balled into fists as I struggle to rein in all the nasty things I want so badly to say, but that I know he doesn’t deserve. "I won't! I'm not! I'm fine without it! I've gone my whole fucking life like this and I don't need to be fixed!"

I decide it's the appropriate time to throw a temper tantrum and scramble off the bed, not even bothering to grab a jacket or a blanket or shoes or anything as I stomp down the stairs and throw open the door to the balcony. It's colder than I remember it being and the air instantly seizes up my bones, but I ignore the feeling as I close the door behind me. I lean against the railing and let a few tears silently slip down my cheeks, not bothering to wipe them and instead letting them trail down my neck and dampen the neckline of my crewneck. Fresh air used to always calm me down, but now, being alone on a balcony after fighting with Spencer, the air only feels suffocating.

A few minutes pass before I head the door slide open and Spencer steps out. I expect him to speak right away, to use his profiling skills to defuse the situation, but he doesn't. He drapes a blanket over my shoulders and as frustrated as I am at him and at the world and at myself, the tiny gesture makes me feel better. I'm craving his touch yet again and I wish he would just wrap his arms around me, but yet again, he doesn't. I tug the blanket as tight as I can around my shoulders and imagine it's his arms. His arms that are so close to me but feel like they are miles away.

"I've been a hypocrite." Spencer's voice is quiet, but not in the same way as it was during my attacks. No, before he was quiet for my sake. But now he seems quiet because he can't bear to speak any louder. Like if he hears his own words, he will combust and break down. "I kept something from you too."

I turn around and find that he's sitting down in one of the armchairs, another blanket wrapped around his shoulders. I, yet again, notice that his medallion is in his hand. But he's not trying to hide it, he's staring right down at it.

"Does it have anything to do with your medallion and why it was in your pocket?"

"Partly," he answers, and then looks up at me, pretty brown eyes already glistening with tears. If I wasn’t so upset, if Spencer wasn’t so upset, if the tension hadn’t carried outside, I would have poked his perfect nose and told him how cute he is when the tip of his nose gets red from the cold. My eyes are just focused on the medallion though, being passed between his fingers with expertise and never slipping out. "I'm clean, I promise. I wouldn't risk breaking my sobriety. I have too much to lose now. I've got you, and my job, and my team- my friends, Henry. But, um, yeah, there's something that I didn't tell you and I know that I should."

Partially born from my own selfish need for affection, coupled with Spencer's broken down state, I go and sit on his lap. He happily lets me do so, draping one hand over my thigh, holding the medallion there. I rest my head on his chest and wait for him to feel comfortable enough to start his story. I can feel his heart pounding against his chest and I stare down his hand, tap-tap-tapping on the arm of the chair. His nervousness is just as palpable as the tension.

"So, um, do you remember when we first met? You always like to point out how you're not the profiler here but did you happen to notice how nervous I was?"

"Mm," I hum, racking my brain for the memories of our first few coffee dates. I remember his strained smiles and his stuttered out words. I think back to us spending Christmas together and how, later on, he just blurted out an invitation to be his girlfriend that lacked finesse and confidence. He has always been nervous around me, but I always just thought that he was nervous with new relationships. It never crossed my mind that there was a reason other than anxiety. "Of course. The first day we met, I don't even think you took your bag off, right? I just thought dates made you nervous."

"Well, yeah, that's kinda true," Spencer sighs and when he tilts his head down, his lips brush against my temple. His warm lips bring a shiver down my spine and he holds me tighter against his cold body. "The truth is, about two years before I met you, I had a girlfriend, her name was Maeve. Our relationship wasn't really conventional. We, um,” he pauses and shifts his weight, “she was a geneticist and I saw her when I was having migraines, but then we started dating. We never met each other though."

His constant past tense is alarming. Was.

"We talked on the phone. She had a stalker from before I met her and she wanted to make sure that I didn’t get wrapped up in it. And we had to be safe so we only talked on pay phones. Only on Sunday's and never from the same phone twice. I thought I, um, I thought I loved her and then-" Spencer lets out a breath that sounds defeated, tired, helpless. He drops the medallion into my lap and his hands fly up to cover his face, another shaky breath falling from his lips. “I shouldn’t be telling you this when you're in such a fragile mental state. This is a lot of information and-”

"If you want to tell me then you can. I’m not a fragile little girl, I can take it. But if you don’t think you can then that’s okay too. I don’t need you to show me all the skeletons in your closet because you think you’ve been hypocritical.”

Spencer drops his hands, revealing his quivering lips and wet waterline. I return the medallion to the palm of his hand and close his fingers around it. "I mean,” he lets out the tiniest, saddest chuckle, “I was being hypocritical, being mad at you for keeping information a secret when I was doing the same.”

“Okay, maybe a little,” my slight teasing gets a more genuine laugh out of him, and he drops his forehead to my shoulder to hide it. “But it’s okay. I understand that there’s some things you don’t wanna share immediately.” 

Spencer keeps his head down, his hand in a tight fist around his medallion and the other on my waist, keeping me close. I can practically feel his fear and anxiety and his overwhelming pain through the tips of his fingers digging into my skin, and I want so badly to take it from him. I would gladly shoulder his pain so he doesn’t have to drag it around behind him like a suitcase with a broken wheel. But as badly as I want to, I can’t help him the way I want to and so I just need to comfort him to the best of my ability. 

"She got kidnapped and shot in front of me," he blurts out quickly, the memory obviously too painful to say gracefully. "I realized she was gone so the team investigated and we found Maeve and the unsub brought me inside where she was being held and had me see her for the first time ever and then killed herself and Maeve right in front of me and there was nothing I could do about it."

Sometimes I don't know what to say to Spencer. He sees the worst that society has to offer, and the worst took away the first woman that he loved. I don't always know how to comfort him. Sometimes he just wants to be held and would rather not verbalize his feelings. And although I don’t love it when he decides to not talk things out, cuddling and giving out kisses is easier than arguing with him and trying to get him to talk about things he doesn’t want to. So physical affection is easier. But right now he doesn't seem to want to be held and I don't know how to help him. He didn't want to tell me this but clearly, today hasn't gone how either of us has wanted it to go. I've been spontaneously panicking and he's now confessing that his girlfriend was killed. None of this is right.

It takes him a few minutes to start speaking again, but when he does, his voice is quiet. "I almost relapsed after that," his head finds home on my shoulder again, and his other arm wraps around my waist. He holds me tight against his chest, adjusting the blanket around me to make sure I’m always covered and warm. "When I first got clean, I brought my medallion with me everywhere I went. I couldn't leave the house without it. I brought it with me on cases, to the store, everywhere. Then time passed and I could leave without it, and I was really proud of that. But then Maeve died and suddenly it was like I was right back at square one. I couldn't go anywhere without it. I needed the reminder of all my hard work and dedication or else I would've easily relapsed."

"Is," my voice is shakier than I wanted it to be, "is there something that's making you wanna relapse now?"

"Stalking cases," he answers, and that's not at all the answer I was expecting. I’m not really sure exactly what kind of answer I was expecting, but it wasn’t stalking cases. "They're common and they're not always violent so we don't always investigate but when we do, I hate it. It’s like torture on those cases, just having to relive what happened with her. Hotch doesn't even let me take part in takedowns of stalking cases because we both know I wouldn't be stable if a hostage situation happened. So,” he tucks his head into my neck this time, and I can feel his lips on my skin, leaving light kisses to make up for the heavy topic, “yeah, that’s what I was keeping from you. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize, dove. I understand.”

I turn my head away from him and stare out at the city. The sun is setting and the sky is painted a pretty pink and purple, mixed together in a way I wish I could achieve in my work. But the people below pay no mind to it. They speed-walk to whatever their next destination is and keep their noses tucked in their phones, or to wave their hand for a cab and bark out orders and throw money at the person who spends their lives being chauffeurs to rude politicians and businessmen. Nobody cares to look up and admire the beauty around them, beauty that they won’t see some day. They don’t look up at the unnatural colors in the sky or check to see if the clouds have taken the form of a shoe or a candy wrapper. They just walk, and walk, and walk. They don’t care. Nobody ever cares. 

"I'm sorry," I choke out, tears suddenly pouring down my cheeks. I reach for Spencer’s hands, intertwining our fingers but keeping his arms around my waist. I don’t want to be without his comfort and his arms and his warmth. He seems to feel the same because he pulls me even closer somehow, my body completely flush against his. "I love you, Spencer, and you-” I hiccup, “fuck, you didn't deserve any of that."

"You're all I need in this life, Amelia. I didn't think I'd ever fall in love again but now I have you and," I can feel his hands shaking in mine, and although it’s hard to tell if it’s from the cold or from anxiety. "I just love you so much. Please don’t leave me."

"I’m never gonna leave you, Spencer Reid. Ever. I'm not going anywhere," I whisper, but I can't tell who it's a reassurance for. "I love you."

///

SPENCER

///

THE NEXT MORNING

///

No amount of nights turned into mornings at Amelia’s apartment could get me used to being woken up to sun beams in my eyes.

I scrunch up my face as the sunlight flows through the windows and almost blinds me. I roll over and reach towards Amelia's side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of sheets instead of a fistful of her. I let out a disappointed sigh and force my eyes open, popping one lid open to confirm my sad realization that I'm waking up alone. Now I'm understanding how Amelia feels when I have to leave for cases.

I can feel the heat blasting and it makes it bearable for me to exist in only my pair of pajama pants, so I don't bother to put a shirt on. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and check my phone, just to make sure there isn't a spontaneous case on a Saturday, and there thankfully isn't anything yet. So I run a hand through my hair that is probably wild and climb out of bed, making the trek down the occasionally terrifying floating stairs.

I pause on the last step when I peer into the kitchen, the dumbest smile appearing on my face when I locate my girlfriend. She's sitting on the counter in the kitchen with her legs up and crossed at the ankles, dressed in only an oversized white tee shirt and pale blue wool socks. Matching, unfortunately. She's wearing her normal butterfly necklace, I can see from here, but she's missing all of her piercings- nose ring and earrings. Her natural curls are out in full force and are only contained by one of her patterned scarves, wrapped around her head like a headband. She's holding an apple in one hand and she has a book resting in her lap but I can't quite see the spine to read the title. But this is one of the moments I'm thankful for my fancy memory, as Amelia calls it, because she looks so effortlessly stunning and perfect and beautiful that I'm glad I'll remember this moment forever.

I watch her for a moment. She wiggles her toes every few seconds and then takes a loud bite from the apple, flipping the page and darting her eyes across the lines. Effortless. Remarkable. I'm often blown away by her simple beauty. I wonder how she does it without trying. How she renders me speechless. How she makes me feel like a teenager in love. How she makes me feel like a lovesick puppy, galloping around at her feet with stars in my eyes. How she makes me feel like she's completely out of my league. How she makes me feel like I'm the luckiest man in the whole world.

When I decide that I have to get my hands on her, I step off the stairs. She still doesn't notice my presence, I credit that to my bare feet on the hardwood, and she only looks up when a floorboard creaks. She lifts her chin and reveals her stunning dimples, ocean eyes wide for me. "Morning!" she quips, tucking a bookmark into the page and setting her book aside. "Wasn't sure you were ever gonna wake up."

"I don't like waking up alone," I brush my fingertips along her leg as I walk closer, eliciting a shy giggle from Amelia. No matter how many times I touch her, she still gets shy about it. I peer over her legs and my eyebrows raise. "You're reading Rossi's book? What's that about?"

Amelia giggles, picking up the book and inspecting the cover. "It's more of a courtesy, actually. I bought all three books of his the other day and I'm planning on ripping out all the pages to use for a piece of art for my next exhibit. But I figured I'd read them first before I destroy them, you know? He saved my life as a kid so the least I can do is read his books before I destroy them."

"Hmm," it's not really at all the answer I was expecting. I watch her face as she plasters on a shy smile, kicking her feet like an excited child and clutching the book to her chest. I don’t have the heart to ask her any more questions about her decision to rip up Rossi’s books because I don’t want to wipe that smile off her face. "Interesting. Breakfast?"

"Not before you give me a kiss," Amelia's delicate voice balances out the horrors Rossi illustrates in his book as she brings her lips to mine. "If you're cooking, I don't care what you make."

"Sounds like a plan,” and just as I didn’t have the heart to question her art, I don’t have it in me to go further than an inch away from her lips before she decides it’s okay. So that leads to kissing for far too long, the book tumbling out of Amelia’s hands and onto her lap, my hands holding her jaw. Her lips are different in the morning, slightly chapped and not yet bleeding from being chewed relentlessly. But, for some reason, I prefer them like this. And I definitely prefer chapped lips to glossy lips that get all over my face and takes a makeup remover wipe to get rid of. I quickly flip through the last few images of Amelia in my head and notice she hasn’t worn lip gloss in a while. Maybe that’s for the better though. She won’t have to hear me complain and watch me rub at my lips and grimace when my hand gets sticky too.

“Okay, okay,” Amelia giggles, grabbing my hands and pushing them away, “let’s not get carried away. I am hungry.”

“Then why didn’t you make breakfast yourself?” I sass, turning on my heel to start collecting breakfast ingredients and feed my hungry lady. 

“Haha,” she snickers sarcastically, rolling her eyes at me. And a comfortable silence falls over us as I start cooking, occasionally glancing over to watch her thumb through the book. It etches a hopefully permanent smile onto my face.

"I do have a question, though," Amelia fiddles with the corner of a page, curling it between her finger and keeping her eyes down. I hum lazily in response, mixing pancakes batter, far too focused on making sure I get measurements correct to be able to make eye contact with her. "I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but your medallion- well, it," she sighs, obviously not able to find the words for what she wants to say.

It’s not my favorite topic of conversation so early in the morning, but I guess the sooner Amelia asks her questions and gets them out of her system, the sooner we can stop having conversations about my demons. "You can ask whatever you want to.”

"It's not a bad question, I don't think," she responds, and turns so her legs are swinging over the edge of the counter, facing me. "I'm just curious what the compass on the back means. It seems odd to me. I mean, the front says recovery and all but the back has a compass? I've never heard of these medallions having a compass on them."

"The designs differ," despite the relatively tame question, I busy myself by trying to create perfect circles with the batter on the hot skillet. She could've asked me about my experience with drugs and how it feels and she could have unknowingly triggered me, but no. She just wants to know about the compass. I guess that’s better than making me relive relapse or make me remember what a high feels like. "I've obviously been clean for more than a year, so the other medallions I have for other years have different designs on the back. But I always liked the one year medallion the best."

"Will you tell me why?" She presses gently, pulling her knees back up to her chest. I've seen her do this plenty of times, shut herself off from conversations, I mean, and I hate it when she does. On normal days, when she shuts herself off from conversations, I do what I can to put her at ease and get her to open back up. But if anyone should be shutting off from this conversation, it’s me. "You don't have to, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Getting to one year is really hard," I admit quickly, keeping my eyes off her as I move the pancakes from the skillet to a plate. "So when I finally got to one year and I got the medallion, it was a huge accomplishment for me. And the compass? It’s just a thing that my program preached. North is always regarded as the right way to go, even though that’s not really true in theory, but I never pointed that out. But my program had us pick someone or something to represent north for each person. So that way, if anyone was ever going through withdrawals or cravings, we could think of that thing we chose and it would give us the motivation to get through a hard time. The thing would give us a reason to go north, the right way. Basically, the way to recovery. The way to go back home.”

“And what did you choose?”

“My job,” it’s such an unenthusiastic answer, no light or happiness in my voice. “My job was all I had at the time, but my job being my north never felt right. It was never really motivating. Maybe that’s why it was so hard to get past a year. I had nothing to look forward to.” 

"One more question," Amelia speaks, softer this time. "Can you come here?"

I look up and find that Amelia is resting her chin on her knees, giving me that same cute smile from before. I nod, scooping the last pancake off the skillet and putting it on the pile before walking over, dragging my feet. Amelia drops her legs and holds out her arms, wrapping them around my shoulders the moment I get close enough. I instantly melt into her embrace and tuck my face into her neck, feeling her fingers on the back of my neck, tracing small shapes and letters.

"I know that I didn't know you back then," Amelia whispers, warm breath tickling my skin, "but I'm proud of you. I'm proud that you're strong enough to keep your head up and stay clean. And thank you for trusting me with all this information. I love you so much."

My body is filled with that familiar warmth that I only feel when Amelia is around, and I can't stop the smile that comes to my face. The tears in my eyes dry up quickly at the praise. "Thank you for loving me."

"I always will," she pulls away and slides her hands up to my face, pointer fingertips tracing my jaw and up to my cheekbones. She swipes her finger across my bottom lip and then brings it up to my nose, poking it gently and giggling under her breath. She’s deep in thought, I can tell from the look on her face. "You know,” she smooths down my eyebrows and then her fingers follow my hairline all the way down to my jaw, “I’ll be your north," she suggests. "I know you always tell me that talking to me when you're on cases helps, but I wanna help you with everything, with every aspect of your life. I wanna help you with the ugliest parts of your life, and not just the ugly parts of your job. I'll be your north. I'll be your reason to come home and I'll be- I'll be like your guiding light. I'll be your lighthouse. I'll just," her hands halt on my cheeks and her legs twist around my waist, bringing our bodies flush, "I'll be your north."

My heart is pounding as I smile at her, the tears that had just dried up coming back tenfold. She's smiling her stupidly gorgeous smile but not even making eye contact, just staring down at my lips as she lets her brain settle from all the words she just vomited and as she holds herself back from her obvious impulse to actually kiss me. So I lean forward and peck her lips, untangling our limbs. "I'll be right back," I ignore the sting in my chest at the disappointment clear on her face as I pull completely away from her hold. But I kiss her cheek for reassurance before I disappear back upstairs, grabbing my go-bag.

I return to the kitchen with last year’s Christmas present in my hands and open up to the page I'm searching for, walking up to my girl. Her back is to me, pouring more batter onto the skillet to finish up breakfast. But the moment she puts the bowl of batter back on the counter, I swing my arms over her head and bring the sketchbook in front of her to show her a journal entry.

"I didn't always use it for sketches," I explain as she grabs the book from me, "but I use it. A lot. Read that entry," Amelia goes radio silent as she reads, and I rest my chin on my shoulder to read with her.

Amelia is my north. I always thought that I'd be alone for the rest of my life and I'd never fall in love again. I thought I had been scorned too hard and I'd never recover. But Amelia gives me a reason to want to go home. She gives me a reason to not make that reckless decision that comes to my mind in the field and she gives me a reason to not go out in the middle of the night and go searching for a new dealer. She gives me a reason to live and maybe it's wrong of me to rely so heavily on another person who could leave me just as easily as everyone else in my life has, but I don't care. She gives me a purpose and she's the reason I come home every day.

It's the little things she does that make me love her. I love seeing her face pop up on Garcia's video chats and I love seeing the snacks she leaves in my desk and the notes she leaves for me and how she always makes a point to clean my apartment when she's over. I've never met someone quite like her.

I didn't think I'd ever find a person to personify "north." I always thought that "north" would remain this mysterious entity that I would blindly chase after my entire life and remain following towards a life of recovery, or a life of constant relapse and pain. Or that I would just continue lying to myself and saying that my “north” was my job. But now I know that Amelia is that "north" that will always be by my side. As long as I have her, then I'll never have to chase after a nameless, faceless goal. I'll always have my north right beside me.

Amelia sniffles as she shuts the sketchbook, setting it gently on the counter. "Okay, fuck you for making me cry."

I toss my head back laugh, grabbing her waist to turn her around, taking the job of wiping her tears. "I’m sorry, love, that wasn't my intention."

"That was really sweet, dove," Amelia disregards her tears, throwing her arms around me and pressing her face into my neck. “I’m never gonna leave you, Spence. I want you to believe that. I love you so much. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” I clutch her waist in my hands as if that would keep her from leaving, “sometimes, I just feel helpless and unlovable and when I feel like that, I come to you.”

“Good. You’re not unlovable. I am so insanely in love with you and you’re never, ever getting rid of me.”

“Good,” I echo, pressing my lips to her shoulder and trailing kisses up her neck. “You’re-” Amelia’s stomach growling silences me, her cheeks turning pink as she ducks her head away. “Okay, alright, the mushy love fest is over. Eat some breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” she giggles, turning in my arms to dish out pancakes for us, “I’m just really hungry and I wasn’t gonna make anything until you woke up. But the bottom line is that I love you and I’m always gonna be in your apartment, cleaning shit you don’t want me to and annoying the hell out of you.”

“Yeah, you definitely annoy me when you leave the curtains open and I get blinded in the morning.”

Amelia turns to me with the cutest smile, holding a plate of pancakes out for me. “At least you get to wake up next to me in the morning.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” I lean over the plate to give her what seems like the millionth kiss to the morning, “waking up next to you is pretty amazing.”

 TAGLIST

@bxnnywriting​ @babybloodstonebones​ @blameitonthenight21​ @feralreid​ @anepiphany​ @goldenalvez​ @reidscardigan​ @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto​ @stxrryspencer​ @m0rcia​ @whollytaciturn​ @thegingerfairchild​ @yasminwashere​ @shrimpyblog​ @blakes-dictionxry​ @anamelessfacelessnerd​ @wonderlandhatter​ @whxt-to-write​ @inkandexchange​ @just-call-me-non​

[one-boring-person]

You Can Be My Wingman (Part Five)

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x reader

Warnings: mention of past injury.

Context: Having finally recovered, Quicksilver is allowed to fly again, where she meets her new RIO.

A/N: This fic isn't doing too well, but I'm still quite proud of it, so I'll keep uploading it👍😅💛

Masterlist

When I finally don my flying uniform again after weeks of recovery, the familiar thrill of the prospect of flying rushes through me, the excitement building up with the minutes of preparation. Alone in the changing room, I pull on the gear as quickly as possible, practically buzzing with excitement as I lace up my boots and pick up my helmet, bounding to the exit, once again relishing in the lack of pain from the scars on my body. Emerging into the blazing sun, I head over to the hanger, rolling my shoulders in anticipation as I take my seat towards the back.

I stare out at the airfield, my leg bouncing nervously as I take in the familiar sight of the jets waiting in a row for us to use, a couple of attendants preparing them for use, their conversations carrying out to me. I missed it; the hot uniform, the harsh smells and noises, even the sexist jokes I sometimes receive from the other lieutenants. Thank God I survived what I did, that I was luckier than Matthew. A wave of grief and sadness briefly dulls my joy, the memory being painful and raw even after so long.

A person taking a seat beside me snaps me from my thoughts.

"You look healthy." Maverick grins as I turn to him, his bright eyes watching me and taking in my appearance.

"Finally." I reply, rolling my eyes jokingly.

He chuckles before replying.

"I'm glad, training was getting dull without you."

"Oh, I'm sure it wasn't, you've got Goose." I point out, " And don't forget Iceman and Slider. I'm sure you had a great time with them." At the last part, I giggle as he sends a pointed expression my way.

"Very funny." He retorts, playfully swatting my arm.

We continue to talk until the others arrive, joking and laughing together as we used to, though I can feel his gaze lingers a little more than before, his smile slightly remorseful. He had already filled me in on what I missed when I was in hospital, giving me his notes to study from whilst I recovered, in return for my own account of what happened whilst I was MIA.

The seats around us fill up, pilots and RIOs talking together, shouting rude jokes at each other as they approach. Glancing around, I quickly spot a new person I don't recognise.

"Who's that?" I ask Maverick, gesturing to the shy-looking guy. Before he can reply, Goose interrupts, plonking himself to my left.

"Hey, Quicksilver! How's it going?" His cheerful tone draws my attention, his contagious smile spreading to my face. Goose (and a few others) had made the effort to come and see me in the hospital, and he'd always cheered me up, so it's nice seeing him when I'm not incapacitated.

"Hey, Goose, I'm good! How about you?"

"Not bad, not bad. All the better now you're well again!" He responds, turning to the front. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Maverick giving us an odd look, but I shake it off as a trick of the light, quickly looking up as I recognise a certain pilot standing over me.

"Quicksilver, we didn't expect you back so soon." Iceman drawls, jaw working nonstop at the gum in his mouth, "It's good to see you."

"And you, Iceman." I return, uncertainly. Before my accident, he'd always been one of my main taunters, but he's acting awfully nice now, which unnerves me slightly.

Nodding, the tall pilot wanders off to his seat beside Slider in time for the commander to inform us of our task.

As he drones on, I take the opportunity to watch the new recruit.

Sitting uncomfortably in his chair, the lithe brunette shifts around, twisting his bony hands together into knots, fiddling with the fabric of his uniform. In the sun, his eyes appear the same colour as his golden badge, though not much of them is visible from under his mop of tawny hair, the long tufts hanging into his pale face like a shield between him and the world. His body isn't particularly muscular, but he appears nimble and agile, unlike some of the other pilots present, and his manner seems curious and eager, under all the unease.

"...as our Quicksilver finds herself without an RIO, she will be partnered with Hawk, our newest RIO recruit. I'm sure you two will get along fine." At this, I turn my attention back to the commander, meeting his firm gaze quickly, before I return my eyes to "Hawk", finding his golden eyes already looking at me. I offer him a small smile in reassurance, which he unsteadily returns.

"And that is all. Don't mess up, and remember, there's no points for second place."

Getting up with the others, I walk over to Hawk, sticking out a hand for him to shake.

"I'm Quicksilver, nice to meet you."

Taking my hand, he stammers in response.

"I'm Hawk, it's good to meet you, too."

"You ready?" I ask, leading him to one of the jets, my excitement building again as I eye the sleek metal beast before me.

"I think so." He murmurs quietly.

Suddenly unsure of his attitude, I turn to face him.

"Are you sure? You sound a little nervous."

Setting his jaw, he looks me in the eye.

"It's nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"..yes."

"It doesn't sound like it. We don't have to go out if you don't feel ready." I say this with hesitation, knowing I'll hate it if he agrees.

"I'm just a bit worried about flying with a new pilot after.. " He stops, visibly distressed.

"After?" I press, anxious to get going.

He shifts in place for a second before replying.

"After the last one...freaked out during a mission. He didn't respond to any of us, he just stared at the photograph he had with him. I was so scared that day...I haven't flown since." Hawk finally confesses, looking away.

Smiling sympathetically, I pat him on the shoulder.

"You'll be fine. I won't freak out on you, I promise." When he turns back to me, I notice his small smile almost instantly.

"Ok, let's go."

Climbing in, I secure myself into the jet, hearing him do the same, slightly hesitantly at first, behind me. I pull on my helmet and fasten it tightly, wrinkling my nose at its bad smell, made so from the accident.

Swiftly, I receive permission from the radar tower to take off first, which surprises me slightly. Making my way to the runway, I ask Hawk one more time if he's ready.

"As I'll ever be." Is his muffled reply.

Lining up, I ready myself for take off, increasing the thrust on the plane gradually until we are thundering across the runway. The familiar exhilaration of flying races through my veins as we launch into the air, the immediate change in pressure making me slightly giddy for a couple of seconds before I recover, wheeling the plane around, pointing the nose upwards. I allow myself to grin as the plane breaches the cloud layer, revealing the layout of the ground below.

Seconds later, a second plane joins me, followed by a third.

"Quicksilver, Hawk, your wingmen are Iceman and Slider, and Maverick and Goose." The crackling voice from the control tower sounds in my ear, the bored controller leaving the conversation there.

"You guys ready?" Goose's cheerful voice replaces the controller, his tone laced with excitement.

"We are." I respond after checking with Hawk.

"Born ready." Iceman replies, the grin almost audible in his voice.

For a couple of minutes, we wheel and bank around as a trio, waiting for the enemy planes to appear.

"I see one!" Hawk calls suddenly, voice confident and professional, as he rolls off a direction.

"South-west, below."

Taking this in, I carefully wheel the plane around to find the enemy jet, locating it immediately.

"We'll get him." Goose calls through the radio, Maverick directing his plane into a tight climb seconds later. "Quicksilver, there's a guy to your right!" Slider barks at me as another plane pulls up beside me, gliding up over me.

"Got it!" Banking to my left, I fall into a dive, spiralling downwards quickly before pulling up abruptly, drawing a muffled grunt from Hawk.

"Bit of warning please, Quicksilver!"

"Sorry." I call back, hurriedly, continuing to keep the plane in a steep ascent until I see us overtake the enemy jet, at which point I level out and cut the speed slightly. Drawing back, I allow the plane to speed off a little, before giving chase, moving in accordance with the other jet, the g-force pulling at me, the pressure almost overbearing. Leading us into a series of tight turns and spirals, I almost don't notice the second plane drop down behind me until it's right on my tail.

"Quicksilver, we have a problem!" Hawk yells at me, panickedly.

"Radio the other two, who's got that one?!" I ask, astonished.

"Goose, Slider, where're you two at?" The young RIO shouts into the mic as I throw the jet into a steep climb, spiralling to avoid missile lock from the others.

"We've got our own problems right now!" Slider's voice is also panicked, as is Maverick's when he replies after a minute or so.

"Us too, sorry Hawk!"

"It's fine, we've got this!" I reassure Hawk, nervously, levelling off to find the other two jets giving chase. "I have an idea."

Flying in a straight line, I slow the plane, allowing the other two to catch up sufficiently.

"Are you crazy? We'll be on missile lock in seconds!" Hawk's voice is terrified as he spots the jets coming closer.

"It's fine. Hold on." I growl through gritted teeth, suddenly pulling the brake and pulling the plane around until the left wing is pointing towards the ground.

As planned, the other two jets shoot by, the pilots turning heads as they watch me through the cockpit window, surprised to see us fly past. Levelling out again, I pursue them, quickly getting missile lock on the closest, watching it fly away as I continue chasing the other.

"One down." Hawk reports to the others, voice slightly shocked, "How did you know that was going to happen?" He asks me in disbelief.

"I've tried something similar a few times, but I guess I got lucky this time." My response is quick and breathless as I concentrate on navigating the tight turns the enemy is leading me on.

A couple of minutes later, I have the jet in my sights, the missile radar trying to lock on, eventually managing to do so, the plane flying off towards the base.

"Another one down. You guys need help?" This time I radio in, bringing the plane above the clouds for a better view.

"Yes please, Quicksilver." Goose's voice crackles through. Checking the radar, I locate their plane and angle towards it, allowing the jet to pick up speed as I drop down behind the aircrafts chasing them.

"We're here, Mav."

"Good, we're gonna need help getting them off our tail."

"On it." I target the closest, flying as near as I dare to its tail, activating the missile radar, focusing it on the jet in front of me. Instantly, the plane rolls off into a dive, drawing me away from Maverick, luring me into an elaborate series of twists and turns.

"Turn left." Hawk suddenly says.

"What?"

"Do it!"

Trusting his determined tone, I bank left, jumping when he speaks again.

"Now go right." Doing as he says, I return to my original path at a different angle, with a perfect view of the dodging plane. Moments later, the pilot is forced to land, due to our missile lock.

"Another down." Hawk reports, Iceman's voice coming in seconds later.

"One down."

"Another down." Goose adds, before Maverick chimes in a couple of minutes later.

"Last one down."

"We sure there were only six?" I ask quickly, looping around to find them on my radar.

"Positive. Requesting permission to land." Slider says, voice breathless over the mic.

"Permission granted." The message comes to all of us.

Goose's relieved "Great balls of fire!" filters through the radio seconds later, drawing a laugh out of me.

Making my way back, I allow the other two to land before doing do myself, bracing for the impact.

As we return to the hangers and get out of the cockpit, I turn to Hawk almost immediately.

"Thanks for that last one, that was clever thinking." I say, smiling at the RIO.

Visibly embarrassed, he scratches the back of his head, helmet tucked under his arm.

"No problem, you pulled it off really well. That stunt before was also really clever, I didn't see how it would work at first." He admits, looking me in the eye, "My actual name is Oli, by the way. Oli Green." He offers me his hand.

"I'm (Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." I reply, shaking his proffered hand, glad that he isn't so shy anymore.

"Hey, you guys, thanks for saving our asses back there!" Goose calls over as he and Maverick come closer, followed by Iceman and Slider.

"Yeah, that was some real fancy flying there." Maverick grins, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"Thanks, guys. We tried our best." I respond, smiling at them all.

"You guys sure you haven't flown together before? Because that was amazing." Iceman's offhand compliment surprises me, a sense of pride immediately washing over me.

"I'm sure. Maybe we just work well together." Hawk chimes in, happily.

"Come on, let's get cleaned and get something to drink, we all deserve it." Slider exclaims, patting us on the back.

As we start off, I feel cheerful and glad to be back, though a look at Maverick dampens my mood.

Why is he frowning like that?

Part Six

[sincerely-raine]

Lovesick (Todoroki Shouto x Reader)

love·sick

/ˈləvˌsik/

adjective

in love, or missing the person one loves, so much that one is unable to act normally.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Kinda short, also one of my first 'x reader's)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Almost everybody has a voice, whether they use it or not. Kouda? He uses it to talk to animals. Tokoyami? To communicate with Dark Shadow. And Shouji? He's never been one to talk much, but he likes to converse once in a while.

Todoroki has always been quiet. Even quieter around you. You never understood why. 'Is he shy?' You thought, 'Though he seemed fine talking to the others? Maybe I'm out of his league...he is Endeavor's son after all, and a handsome rich kid too, why would he need a normal person like me in his life to be anymore than just another fan?'

You wouldn't let that get in the way of making new friends. Whether he likes it or not.

But the truth was...your thoughts were completely wrong. Little did you know, his feelings for you were so strong he may as well take the world record for being the biggest lovebird to live.

Everytime you were around, he got so nervous, felt so fuzzy inside, he couldn't bring himself to speak. Caught up in his head, thinking about how beautiful you are, how adorable every expression you made was...how you were so nice towards him, even before the sports festival. He would be so blatantly rude to you, block you off, straight up tell you he didn't need friends, yet you still tried to invade his social life.

You're so persistent, and thoughtful, and understanding...once the sports festival was over...he couldn't stop thinking about you.

How he wished he could speak to you. Everytime you said something, he would just stare into your eyes with an expression so hard to read.

"She probably thinks I'm not interested in her...but how can I show my true feelings when all I can do is stare?" He murmured to himself before sitting up on his bed.

He looked over to a notebook sitting on his desk. That was it! He can write to you! Surely, that'll work!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He sighed once he made it to your dorm. All he needed to do was slide the paper under the door, that was all! 'Who cares if they don't replicate your feelings, right?'

...right?

He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw your door open. You were standing there, 3 inches apart from him, with bedhead and adorable pajamas. Barely even awake.

"Hey, Todoroki," you said ever so quietly with the cutest blush,"Need something?"

...

"Todoroki? Hello? Anyone in there?" you giggled at your own reaction as he just stood there. "Well uh...it was nice playing stand infront of someone's dorm room with you, but I really should brush my teeth now. Gotta stay hygienic! Bye-bye!" he watched as you walked towards the elevator. What was he doing? Who cares. He was so close to you...he could smell your sweet, natural, cotton candy scent. He could almost touch you, hug you, even kiss you.

Wait...the letter! He was supposed to give you that love letter! And you were gone. Well, nothing's stopping him from giving you a late love letter...maybe even checking out your room? No...that's creepy to do that without permission...but it's not creepy if they don't know.....

He reached for the door handle and turned it, opening the door to reveal all the things you love in one dorm.

All the equipment and gear for the sports you love to play, every doodle and sketch you've ever drawn, a twin bed covered with multiple blankets and pillows with your favorite fandoms on them. He looked over to the corner of your bed and saw a journal with a lock on it. Your diary? Maybe so. And you were even foolish enough to leave the key right on your pillow.

He set the letter down and used the key to unlock the diary, and read anything he found interesting. He hoped you wouldn't walk in on him reading your book of secrets.

Over the past 5 minutes, he's already learned so much about you. Your pet cockatiel you had to leave at home to abide dorm rules, your older sister who you missed so much, all your past crushes and friends, and even enemies. And finally he got to the one page he needed to read.

And he read every last word.

"I always wondered why he never talks to me...did I say something? Am I annoying? And why do I have to like him? The one person who doesn't even bother to speak to me. I wish I never had the ability to feel, I know this will end in heartbreak and our relationship being even more awkward than before. It always does.

But I won't stop talking until he makes me. It'll teach both of us something! He'll learn to use his words instead of waiting for someone to use their mind reading quirks and I can work on whatever he tells me to!"

Were you talking about him? Who do you have feelings for?? He didn't know what to think.

He closed and locked your diary, left the letter and closed the door behind him. Walking back to his dorm, he was lost in his thoughts, hoping he'd get answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"My legs hurt..." you whined, plopping onto the couch. "You'll get used to it!" Mina chimed in,"I always felt that way after playing Dance Dance Revolution but it gave me dancer legs after a while, and cool moves~" you giggled at her once she started doing the strangest dance she could think of.

"Thanks for taking me to the arcade, guys, it really did take my mind off him for a while."

Kaminari sat down next to you,"Don't worry bout it, but hey, if you just mentioned him, doesn't that mean you're thinking bout him right now?"

"Why don't you just ask him what's up?" Kirishima chimed in.

"Yeah, and keep asking over and over until he gives in."

You stood up "Sero, if I do that I'll just annoy him so bad that I'll have an even lesser chance to hook up with him...but thanks for the idea?"

He shrugged in response. "I'm gonna go to bed, sleeping will make Saturday come faster."

"Goodnight!" Uraraka said as you walked by. "G'night, chako."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You opened your door and saw a piece of plain, lined paper sitting in the middle of your bed. "Did I leave this here?"

You gently picked it up and laid down.

"Dear (Y/N),

I'm sorry if I upset you with my silence. I don't mean to leave you hanging all the time. But your presence makes me so flustered, I get lost in your words. I can't even use my own words to talk with you.

You make me lovesick. It's impossible to function as a normal human when you're around.

Everytime I see your sparkling eyes, my heart skips a beat. Everytime I hear soft voice, I feel like I'm listening to music. When I smell your sweet scent, I could faint.

I love you so much it's unhealthy.

Please forgive me for being so rude.

Your secret admirer, Todoroki."

...Love?

......Secret?

Todoroki???

Okay, for one, it's not secret when he tells you his name?

You were so shocked, you were expecting him to confess, but you weren't expecting a love confession! Not that you were mad, you were anything but mad. You didn't think you'd visit the arcade, come back, to try sleep, then get hit with a love letter from the one guy who acts like he hates you! (Even on accident!)

That night, you dreamt of red and white.

Part 2? Maybe? Possibly?

And don't be scared to let me know if I made any mistakes or give me suggestions!

[averykedavra]

Leave No Trace (Chap. 15)

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

It was evening. Janus was curled up and asleep after several hours of snapping at Patton every time Patton talked and sighing every time Virgil did. Virgil was sitting on his own blanket, glaring at nothing, hands balled into fists. He'd been in a bad mood all afternoon. Walking together had not been fun. Patton had done his best to cheer everyone up, but Janus wasn't in a mood to listen to anything Patton had to say. Patton didn't know if it was the sudden magic or what had happened on the bridge.

"I didn't hear anything," Patton had tried to say, feeling like it needed to be said. "If you're worried about that."

"I'm not." Janus bared his teeth. "What do I care? I don't have anything to hide."

Patton got the hint after that. He retreated from conversation and Virgil glared at Janus and Janus strode ahead through the thorns.

Now it was evening. Patton decided he wanted to take a little walk and try to get away from the ugly resentment he felt around Virgil and Janus. He felt a little more comfortable walking away from them since they were no longer in the Woods, but he still told Virgil where he was going, just in case.

He walked for a minute or so and sat down cross-legged on the path. He reached out and poked one of the thorns. A little dot of blood rose on his finger and dripped onto the dirt.

It was a dark night. The clouds covered the moon and stars. Patton ran his hands over the cool dirt and imagined little plants springing from his fingertips.

This place was so different from the Woods. The Iron Woods were dangerous and twisted and misleading, but they were so alive, vibrating and humming and hissing with power. Patton hadn't realized how much that affected him until it was gone. Now he felt vaguely adrift, everything just a little too silent and still, the lack of unease making him uneasy.

He tried to push his hand into the dirt. It only made a few little divots before hitting solid rock.

They were only a day or two from the Mountain.

That's what Janus said, anyway. Janus was bad at estimating walking distance. He never usually walked.

Patton thought back to the bridge, the stifling desperation he'd felt, the way Janus had pleaded with him to keep moving. The fire that had erupted out of him without his permission, burning its way through the ropes, glowing in the air like nothing he'd ever seen.

Patton reached out and snapped a small branch off. It had two thorns and twisted around his hand. Patton half-expected it to move or attack him or bind him to the earth. It didn't. It was just a regular plant.

Patton closed his eyes, breathed out, and tugged.

When he opened his eyes, the little bit of branch was still intact, staring at him with what Patton felt was judgment.

"Hey," Patton told the branch, "I don't know how it works, either."

The branch did not respond. Thank goodness.

Patton didn't want to set anything on fire that could lead to a really big fire. So he snapped another branch off and held that one up. Then he realized it could burn his hand. He set it on the dirt and stared at it intently.

He tried to reach for the fire inside of him. It danced through his fingers and sunk deeper.

He felt very stupid, staring at a branch and hoping for it to catch fire.

He felt like he shouldn't be doing this.

He shouldn't be. He should be leaving magic alone. That was stuff nobody messed with. Maybe if he was lucky, the thing with the bridge was a fluke.

Patton remembered how he'd felt in the moment—completely in control, burning from the inside out, every bit of his skin sparking and exploding.

Scary, when he imagined it now.

But it hadn't felt scary at the time. It just felt right. Like remembering the lyrics to a song he'd forgotten.

Patton held his hand over the branch and focused hard. He closed one eye and held his breath and tried to think of any magic words he knew. All he could think of was 'Alakazam.'

Nothing caught fire.

"Hey, Pat."

Patton squeaked and jumped, trying to kick the little branch off the path.

Virgil rolled his eyes. "Calm down. I'm not gonna fire you. Scoot over."

Patton did. Virgil sat next to him, kicking his legs out.

"Any luck?" Virgil asked.

"No," Patton admitted. "I—I know I promised I wouldn't try. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get it." Virgil smirked. "If I had cool powers, I'd want to try them out, too. You're curious—it's natural."

"It's dangerous," Patton protested.

"It's more dangerous if you don't understand them than if you practice." Virgil grabbed Patton's hand and held it out over the branch. "Try again?"

Patton shook his head. "I—I should go to sleep."

Virgil looked annoyed. "Don't let Janus get to you! He's full of it."

"He's right." Patton curled his knees to his chest, staring morosely at the branch. "This is—this is messy stuff. This is Fae stuff. I don't know what I'm doing, I could burn this whole forest down, I could—"

"First of all, I don't think you're powerful enough for that." Virgil bumped Patton's shoulder. "And like I said, practice makes perfect. Ignoring and repressing this stuff'll just make it explode."

"Janus doesn't like it."

"Like I said, he's full of it." Virgil scoffed. "Since when have you listened to Janus—he's a jerk."

"He's scared," Patton said quietly.

"Yeah." Virgil glanced down the path. "Fair. But—and I know I'm being a hypocrite here—that doesn't excuse being mean."

"I'm scared." Patton stared at his hands. "I don't know how I did it, I'm not supposed to know it, I've always been able to forget that I'm part Fae but now it's all smacking me in the face and maybe now I'll end up killing children or something—"

"Okay, jeez, calm down!" Virgil's eyes widened. "You're not gonna kill children. This is magic, not a personality transplant."

"I know. I know." Patton curled into himself a little more. "In—in the stories, magic's evil. It corrupts people. You can't trust it."

"Yeah," Virgil agreed. "The stories also say that all dragons are evil and will stop at nothing to destroy humanity. And we've got at least one guy proving that wrong."

Patton laughed a little. "You think he's evil, though."

"He's not." Virgil huffed. "He's a royal pain, but he's not evil. And he seems to tolerate humanity alright."

"I knew you liked him," Patton said.

"I don't." Virgil bit his lip. "Especially when he's like this. When he's being mean to you. It's—it's the same stuff people always say, and I'm sick of it."

"He's—" Patton waved a hand. "Look. I get it. He's scared. He's worried we'll all get put in danger or something. And I don't blame him! He's not mad 'cause I'm a Fae—he knew that—he's just worried for all of us."

"He doesn't trust you." Virgil's voice was tight. "He doesn't trust that you could handle something like this. He thinks you'll let your magic go off willy-nilly."

Patton laughed a little. "In fairness, I don't really know how it works, and it totally could—"

"It could. Fine." Virgil shrugged. "Still not an excuse to be rude."

"He'll calm down," Patton said unconvincingly. "I know he will."

"Yeah, maybe. And maybe not. And either way, if he's being mean now, that's a problem."

Patton sighed. "I wish I didn't have magic."

"I hear you." Virgil smiled a little. "Think of it this way. Yeah, maybe this could be a chance to hurt people. But it could also help people. It practically saved you guys on the bridge, right? You're a powerhouse, Pat. I know you've never been a fighter, but this could really help in the future. I know you're trying to talk down the dragons, and that's great and all, but—" Virgil sighed. "It might be a good idea to have a backup plan."

"I don't like fighting," Patton said automatically.

And the last time he'd fought with fire, he'd burned Janus.

"I know." Virgil paused. "Then…you can light campfires for us!"

Patton giggled. "That's what you've got?"

"Hey, it's useful. I'm terrible with flint and magnesium." Virgil bumped Patton's shoulder again. "I'm just saying, look on the bright side. Or just remember that there is a bright side. Can't believe I'm the one telling you to be optimistic, but yeah."

"I…thanks." Patton swallowed. "Virgil?"

"Yeah, Pat?"

"Why—" Patton looked at his feet. "Why aren't you scared?"

Virgil was quiet.

"You—you don't like dragons." Patton swallowed again, trying to press down the lump in his throat. "And you don't like magical stuff in general. And I'm a danger to all of us, and Janus doesn't like me, and you should—"

"I should what, leave you behind in the thorns?" Virgil's teasing tone fell away. "You're serious."

Patton pointedly didn't look at Virgil.

"You're serious—Pat." A hand fell on Patton's shoulder. "Pat, look at me."

Patton reluctantly looked up. Virgil's face was open and filled with so much affection and worry, Patton's heart clenched.

"I'm not scared because you're you," Virgil said. "I'm not scared because you're Patton. Magic powers or not, you're my brothe—best friend. You'd never use this stuff to be cruel, you'd leave a situation if you felt like you might be a danger, and you're a really fast learner. You're not stupid, no matter what Janus says, and you can be trusted with this. I trust you." Virgil smiled. "I will always trust you, Patton."

Patton fought for words.

He decided against them entirely. He leaned forward and flung his arms around Virgil in a hug.

"Hey," Virgil said fondly, hugging Patton back. "It's gonna be alright."

"Yeah." Patton choked on the word. "Yeah, it is. It is."

"Yeah."

They stayed there for a long time, Patton breathing in the scent of Virgil's hoodie, Virgil cupping the back of his head.

"You should sleep," Virgil said, pulling Patton to his feet. "That branch can wait. We'll practice more tomorrow, okay?"

"Janus won't like it," Patton said, but found he didn't really care.

"Janus can suck it." Virgil's eyes were alight with mischief. "And hey, if you get good enough, you can light his clothes on fire."

"Kiddo!" Patton protested. "You said I wouldn't be cruel!"

"It would be a kindness." Virgil rolled his eyes. "I'm kidding. Mostly."

"That's enough out of you," Patton teased, leading Virgil down the path.

Janus was awake when they reached the blankets. He stared at them with an unreadable expression.

"Where have you been?" he asked Virgil.

"We went for a walk." Virgil folded his arms. "What, is that illegal now?"

"No." Janus huffed. "I was concerned Patton had burned down the forest. Apparently we've been spared that cruel fate."

"Come on," Virgil complained, his lip curling. "Give it a rest, will you?"

"Give what a rest?"

"I can't believe you." Virgil stomped over to his blanket and sat down on it. "Hope Pat really does learn how to control his magic so he can blast you to bits."

"Yes, that definitely reassures me." Janus looked Patton up and down. "You've been practicing, haven't you."

"What—" Patton fought for a lie, but it was way too late. "How'd you know?"

"I didn't." Janus raised an eyebrow. "I do now, though."

"Oh." Patton felt very much like swearing. "Gotcha."

"I'm curious to know how it went," Janus said, his voice lilting.

"Nothing happened," Patton said.

"Right."

"Nothing did!" Patton waved at Virgil. "He'll tell you—I couldn't get it to work again."

"Hmm." Janus looked Patton up and down again. "Whatever you say."

"Look, I'm not lying." Patton crossed his arms. "I don't lie. You know that."

Janus gave Patton a skeptical look. "Sure."

"Why are you being like—" Patton reined himself in before he could say something he'd regret. "Jan. I'm…I'm not going to hurt anyone."

"You don't know that! What if it—"

"Janus, can you stop?" Patton bit his lip. "Please?"

Janus sighed and flopped down on his blanket. "You know what? I don't care. Have fun killing all of us. I'm going to bed."

Patton looked at Virgil, who seemed about three seconds from strangling Janus with his bare hands.

"He's right," Patton said softly. "We should all get some sleep, okay?"

"Fine," Virgil ground out, curling up on the ground and shooting Janus dirty looks. Janus was already asleep. Or he was pretending to be.

Patton straightened his own blanket and lay down on it, staring up at the sky and listening to the fire sparking in his chest.

Don't hurt them, he tried to tell it. Please. Just—just go away, okay? Go away and leave no trace behind.

The fire jumped up again. Already, Patton had forgotten what it was like without there.

Maybe it had always been there.

Maybe he'd just gotten good at ignoring it.

Patton turned on his side and closed his eyes. It was a long time before he fell asleep.

 Patton woke up in the middle of the night. He was used to that. But usually, he woke up because of nightmares. He wasn't sure why he'd woken up this time. Something just told him it would be a good idea to be awake, and now he was awake, staring at his hand on the dirt and waiting for something to happen.

"Snake," Virgil said. "Are you awake?"

"No, I'm asleep," Janus said. "I can't hear a word you're saying."

Virgil sighed loudly. "Cut the crap. I need to talk to you."

Janus groaned. "Can't it wait? It's night."

"You're awake, aren't you?"

"Only thanks to you."

"You're welcome." Virgil huffed. "We gotta talk. You know that."

"I know nothing of the sort." Janus' voice was clipped. "Unless you're referring to your behavior this afternoon."

"My behavior?" Virgil repeated incredulously.

"You were being snippy."

"I was mad at you."

"I gathered."

"I'm always mad at you," Virgil admitted.

"I've also gathered that."

"But…" Virgil sighed. "Yeah. We need to talk."

"What is this about?" Janus asked, sounding like he'd prefer not to know the answer and would rather just fall back asleep. "Can we do it at some time that's not should-not-be-awake o'clock?"

"You're nocturnal, suck it up." Virgil paused. "I need to talk to you about Patton."

Patton froze, any plans of interrupting their conversation dying on his lips. He closed his eyes and tried to tune them out. That barely lasted a second. Curiosity overruled caution and he shifted closer to Virgil and Janus, listening harder.

"What about Patton?" Janus asked, although his voice was suddenly much tenser.

"How you're treating him." Virgil sucked in a breath. "Dude, you're being a jerk."

"That isn't exactly new information." Janus chuckled a bit. "You know I don't like him."

"Well, he likes you," Virgil fired back. "I'd be totally fine if you guys were just arguing a lot. 'Cause yeah, understandable. But you're just sniping at him and he isn't fighting back! You're using him as a punching bag. It's painful to watch."

"Tell him to fight back, then."

"He's not going to." Virgil clicked his tongue. "He's just not gonna, and we both know it. He's nice, and he likes you. I'm telling you that you need to stop being so mean to him."

Janus was silent.

"It hurts him," Virgil said. "I can tell. He's good at hiding it, but he doesn't like it when you call him stupid, or when you ignore him. You've gotten a bit better. Which is good! Just—you haven't gotten all-the-way better, and after the emotionally-manipulative giant hole, you almost completely fell back to square one. And yeah, vulnerability is hard, but Patton doesn't deserve to be pushed aside whenever you're in a bad mood. Or just because he has magic now."

"Patton hasn't complained," Janus said defensively.

"First of all, he has, and secondly he won't, because he's just like that." Virgil's voice took on a fond edge. "He won't call you out on it—he'll just lie down and take it, the stupid guy. But I'm calling you out."

"I don't know what you want me to do about it," Janus said.

"Stop?"

"I don't even know what the problem is." Janus was starting to sound frustrated. "I'm nice to him! I've saved his life a million times!"

"Yeah, but that's not where the bar is, sorry." Virgil didn't sound sorry. "If the only time you show any compassion is when it's life-or-death, that's not cool."

"This is ridiculous," Janus muttered. "You're just attacking me because you don't like me."

"I don't like you," Virgil agreed, "but I have a point, and you know it."

"Why do you care so much?"

"Why don't you?"

"I—" Janus growled. "I don't see why this matters. We're almost to the Mountain. I will never see you again."

"It's hurting Patton right now." Virgil's voice was quiet. "So it matters."

"What do you expect me to do?" Janus burst out. "Put flowers in his hair and make friends with him? In case you forgot, I'm a dragon. You've made it very clear you don't want me around."

"You're insufferable," Virgil groaned. "This isn't about me, idiot."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

"It's not!" Virgil groaned again. "It's about Patton. I'm gonna freaking kick your butt if you're mean to him, I swear."

"I'm trying," Janus insisted. "I've been trying for days to be more polite—"

"Good, try harder!" Virgil said. "You don't get a free pass for effort, I want to actually see results."

"There are results, and you're ignoring them!" Janus made a strangled hissing noise. "I told you, this is all because you don't like me—"

"This is about Patton!"

"Why is Patton so special, then?" Janus yelled. "Why do you care what I say to Patton? Why are you letting me near him? You should be—if I'm such a jerk, you should expect me to be mean. Why are you so angry at me?"

"I'm not angry!" Virgil snapped.

"Could've fooled me!"

"Shut up!" Virgil yelled. "Just for once, please shut up and listen!"

Janus must have been shocked into silence.

"Look, I—" Virgil sighed, the anger going out of his voice. "Patton, he's—I have never met a kinder person in my entire life."

Something twanged in Patton's chest and he found himself smiling, just a bit.

"He's my best friend." A smile was audible in Virgil's voice. "He's always been there for me. When—" Virgil's voice dipped. "When I lost my family, Patton convinced his parents to take me in. He was so humble about it, too. Said anyone would have done it. But anyone wouldn't have." Virgil laughed a little. "I've got a little bit of my hair shaved. I told Patton it's to help remember what happened—I got burned there, right above the neck. But…it's also—" Virgil paused. "It was like a week after. I was staying in Patton's house. I hadn't said a word, hadn't changed clothes, had barely eaten. I still smelled like smoke. My hair was all burnt in the back. Patton—he said it was adorable." Virgil laughed again. "I have no idea why that stuck with me. He just—he just looked at me, the complete mess that I was, and thought I was adorable. Thought I was—worth helping. That's what Patton does. He sees the best in people, even when they have a hard time seeing it themselves."

Patton pressed a hand to his mouth. He didn't know whether he was stopping a happy squeal or a few tears.

"I would do anything for him," Virgil said simply. "He's—he's like a brother to me. And my last brother was killed, so I don't say that lightly."

Patton actually did make a little noise this time. Fortunately, no one heard.

"I don't like you," Virgil continued. "I admit that. Maybe I never will. But Patton does. And Patton…"

Janus shifted slightly. Patton heard his shirt rustle against his back.

"Do you realize how lucky you are?" Virgil asked, laughing. "Patton Foster wants to be your friend. That's not something that's gonna happen again. There aren't any other Pattons in the world."

Patton was definitely holding back tears now.

"So yeah." Virgil sighed. "I get mad when I see you brushing him off. Because what he's giving you is worth the world and you're treating it like it's nothing." There was a long moment of silence that nobody broke. "Patton…he doesn't give up on people easily. But if you push him away, he will stop trying. And you'll regret not letting him in while you could."

The wind slipped between the thorns and rustled Patton's blanket.

"You hate me," Janus finally said, voice hesitant. "Why would you want me around your brother?"

"Good question," Virgil said wryly, but his voice softened. "Because you make Patton happy. For whatever reason. And—that's all I want him to be, Janus."

Janus made a soft little "Oh." And Patton's heart broke just a bit more.

"I…I suppose that makes sense," Janus said. "You're very protective of him. It's admirable."

"Yeah." Virgil paused. "Um—don't tell him about the brother thing, okay? It's embarrassing, and—he always just calls me his best friend. We're not really family that way."

"Of course," Janus said, his tone unreadable. "Whatever you say."

"Great." Virgil clicked his tongue. "Um, hope you took some of that to heart, or I'm shoving you into the thorns, got it?"

"Got it." Janus paused. "I do see what you mean, in a way. Patton's definitely…unique. I haven't met many humans in my life, but I get the feeling that Patton is a standout nonetheless."

"Definitely," Virgil agreed. "Unless that's a layered insult, in which case you're a jerk."

"It's not!" Janus said. "He's—he's funny. He's always excited, and he has boundless enthusiasm, and he's trusting to a fault, and he's always open to talk, and—"

"Huh," Virgil said, a smile creeping into his voice. "Glad we're on the same page, Janus."

"We're on no such page," Janus teased. "I read far faster than you, I'm sure."

"Whatever lets you sleep at night." Virgil snorted. "I'm just saying, that was—you have a lot to say about Patton, huh?"

"You're the one who gave a long dramatic speech about your love for him."

"Yeah, well, I've known him for years." Virgil paused. "He must have made a real impression on you."

"Shut up," Janus muttered.

"All I'm saying is—"

"I don't care what you're saying."

"—if you said that to Patton instead of 'shut up, you idiot,' things might go a little better."

"I'm going to sleep now."

"You can ignore me, but you can't ignore the truth."

"Good night, V."

"Patton's favorite flowers are chrysanthemums."

"Good. Night."

Virgil laughed. "Fine. I'll stop. Just—yeah. Try saying more of that." He was quiet for a little while. "You really like him, Janus. Don't you?"

Janus gave a long-suffering sigh. "I find his company not terrible. Are we done?"

"You like him," Virgil translated. "Yeah, I figured. You've got a heart under all those scales after all."

"I would like to be done."

"Now just try and be a little more emotionally honest—"

"Please be done."

"—and you'll be able to be happy friends or whatever you end up doing." Virgil smirked. "Maybe not friends, if I'm hearing this correctly."

Janus hissed. "I will throw you off a cliff."

"I'd like to see you try." Virgil was quiet for another long time. "Janus…I think I do like you. Just a bit. Under certain circumstances."

"Wow, don't strain yourself," Janus snarked back. "You should do exercises before you try so hard not to care."

"You're a jerk," Virgil said. "But I think I get what Patton was saying. You're a lot more than that when you let yourself be. And…and you're kind of fun to argue with. You'll betray us, of course, and you're evil and a dragon and I shouldn't trust you at all—"

"And here I thought we were bonding," Janus griped.

"—but I do. Kind of. Sort of." Virgil huffed. "So…thank you. For saving us all those times, and for having our backs. Even if it's because you want to kill us later."

"You're…" Janus didn't seem to know how to respond. "You're welcome?"

"Great." Virgil yawned. "Now it's sleep time. Too many emotions for the middle of the night."

"I thought you'd never say that," Janus said, his voice already dropping off and replaced with quiet breathing. Virgil fell silent, too. And Patton closed his own eyes, mind whirring.

"Thank you too," Janus said into the night, "I suppose."

"You're welcome," Virgil muttered. "Snake."

Janus laughed a bit and his laughter turned into light snores. Virgil began to snore as well, and Patton was left the only one awake, running through that conversation over and over again.

He was a little annoyed that Virgil had confronted Janus about that stuff without asking. But that was overshadowed by everything else. Virgil's speech and kind words. Janus' little compliments. The way they'd finally seemed to be getting along, their snark and teasing remarks almost friendly, not reminders of a deeper hatred.

Janus liked him too. Janus was okay with being his friend. He hadn't said it out loud, but Patton could tell.

And that made Patton smile widely in the darkness.

[Masterlist] [Ao3]

[avis-writeshq]

Hi, I saw crush on your character list and I'm super glad I finally found someone who takes requests for crushes! May I ask for a drummer 'bad boy' crush with a shy reader?

Drummer!Crush x Reader: Cliche kinda things

Requested: Yes, by anon

Pairing: Male!Crush x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, and trash writing

Other: Thank you very much for requesting! Also, I will get to a few requests this week because school holidays have started (thank you, Southern Hemisphere).

Word count: 1,166                                                                                            

 Things you probably wanna know, for all you ‘x reader’ illiterates:

(Y/N): Your Name

(H/C): Hair Colour / Color

(E/C): Eye Colour / Color

(N/N): Nickname

(C/N): Crush’s Name

(C/H/C): Crush’s Hair Colour

(C/E/C): Crush’s Eye Colour

(Y/B/F): Your Best Friend

(C/B/F): Crush’s Best Friend

 ***

Bands were a pain. You should have known that before you auditioned for the school band. They were looking for a singer – backup, mind you – and you were ready to go all out. Or so you thought. In all reality, there were more people in the band than you expected. There was Esher who was the lead singer, Katrina, another backup singer, Lily, the pianist, (C/B/F) who was on bass, Danny on Electric guitar and, of course, (C/N). He was the main drummer and school’s bad boy. 2 years older than you, he knew how to get anyone to like him. Well, anyone other than the teachers.

 In reality, though, he was a pain. He had no self-control, no common sense (which isn’t very common anymore, I admit), and absolutely no sense of empathy.  If it were your choice, you would have kicked him out as soon as possible. Unfortunately, you had no say in the matter. Besides, being in the band was the only way for (C/N) to not get expelled, and if he was kicked out, all his friends would be out to get whoever kicked him out. You did not want to die young.

 2 weeks after the audition, you found yourself sitting in the band room, awkwardly listening to conversations. (C/B/F) was tuning his bass. Well, trying to, anyway. (C/N) was playing his drums like a madman, basically bashing his sticks against the smooth skin of the drums. You flinched each time the drumsticks hit the cymbals, moving further away from him. As of now, you were pressed against the wall, your anxiety shooting through the roof. Then it was quiet. Did you go deaf?

 “Hey, who’s the newbie?” You froze at his voice. His eyes met yours, glaring into your soul. “I was talking to you.”

 You blinked, breaking the eye contact as you shuffled in your seat. “I’m (Y/N)…”

 “(C/N), are you bullying (Y/N)?” A voice cut in. Katrina stared the drummer down. “You know it was your fault we lost Dahlia.”

 “Tch, maybe she just wasn’t good enough,” (C/N) muttered. “Besides, all she did was flirt.” He winked at you. “I won’t scare her, though. She doesn’t look threatening at all.”

 You felt heat rush up to your cheeks and you hastily looked away. “Thanks, I guess…”

 ***

3 week later, you and (C/N) were somehow joined to the hip. Well, you against your will. He would stick with you during lunchtimes and pester you to accompany him to the music room so he could practice his drums. You would begrudgingly bid adieu to (Y/B/F) and sit in the band room, listening to his deafening drums.

 Still, there were some good things that came out of the whole ordeal. You were the only person other than (C/B/F) he could stand in the school, and you could tell him to do things without him blowing a fuse. In all honesty, though, a lot of the band members were quite annoying and were pretty rude to him as well as other people. Most of them were arrogant in their words and actions, which were the main reason (C/N) didn’t enjoy their company.

 “You’re the only one who I can stand here,” he said one day, swinging on his chair.

 You raised an eyebrow at him, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “Oh?”

 He nodded, rolling his eyes as he picked up his sticks. “Wanna go to the next room? I can teach you to play.”

 “Only if you tell me why you like me so much.”

 He laughed quietly, as to not annoy Katrina and Lily who were busy practising their harmonies and chords. “Deal. I think you’re nice.”

 You snickered, “is that it?”

 “Well…” he stopped for a moment, looking you up and down. “You have good fashion sense. You also are not as irritating as the others.”

 You laughed, “How does my fashion sense have anything to do with it?”

 “The others wear stupid branded clothes as if it’s cheap shit. News flash, bitches, not everyone in this world has a rich ass.”

 Rolling your eyes, you tugged him up, revealing his branded shoes. “Care to explain, mister ‘Leader of the Free World’?”

 “They’re shoes. They don’t count.” He placed a hand on your head. “You wouldn’t understand because you’re so naïve.”

 Laughing, you pulled him towards you with his drumsticks, “Alright, Leader of the Free World. Teach me the ways of the drums.”

 That was on his good days, last week, specifically. On this particular day, he was called to the principal’s office, leaving you to wait outside for him. You were awkwardly seated outside during your lunchtime, nibbling on your sandwich.

 “(Y/N), would you come in, please?” Principal Mullens (anyone gets the reference?) called your name, and your head shot up.

 “Sure?” Brushing the crumbs off your (skirt/pants), you got up. Walking into the little office, your eyes met (C/N)’s.

 “Are you okay?”

 You saw him flinch, “Yeah.” He looked up at the principal. “Why is she here?” His voice was cold, threatening the man who scowled.

 “(C/N),” you began gently, touching his arm, “what did you do?”

 His jaw clenched while Mullens told the story. “Mr. (C/L/N) got into a fight earlier today. Nothing too serious to the victim, but (C/L/N) refuses to apologise. Usually we would call the parents; however, it has come to my attention that they are away on a business trip. That is where you come in.” He looked at you from his glasses.

 “Come on, (C/N), please apologise.” You looked up at him, your face pleading. “You can tell me what really happened afterwards.”

 “Fine,” he muttered, “I’ll apologise.”

 You saw Mullens visibly relax, and he quickly dismissed both of you. (C/N) swiftly took your hand and led you out of the office. When you were well away from any students of teachers, you stopped. “(C/N).”

 You sighed as you saw him flinch at your tone. He bit his lip, letting go of your hand. “He was talking about you.” Cocking your head to the side, you looked up at him, confused. He caught your gaze and continued. “Tristan. He was talking shit about you like you were an animal. I told him to shut up at first. He threw the first punch.”

 “What did he say?”

 “He called you a slut and an attention seeker.” He shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 “Well,” you offered him a smile, “thank you.”

 A light pink dusted across his cheeks and he looked away. “Can I… can I tell you something?”

 “Sure. What’s up?”

 He bit his lip. “I- well, the thing is…” he trailed off and you let out a laugh.

 “What?” You grinned up at him. “Come on, spit it out!” He was still quiet. In a softer tone, you said, “You know you could tell me.”

 “Okay, well…” he let out a shaky breath before resting his hands on your shoulders. “I really like you.”

 ~End, no part 2~

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 Until my next fic!

xoxo

~ Avis ~