#and in the 6 years or so since I first dyed my hair red I’ve probs detoxed for just over 18 months

[toastydoll]

Since rainbow high is getting extremely worrisome w the new line I’ve coped by making my own wave 6 (drumroll please):

Scarlet, Pumpkin, Mustard, Moss, Cornflower, Royal Purple!

Tbh I was just listing off colors I wished we had gotten in a gc and then realized a) they made a rainbow and b) they were all autumnal themed so I made an inadvertent autumnal wave! All with two outfits bc I’m allowed to dream. I want to make them eventually too bc hello my New Year’s resolution is to make more customs than last year.

Scarlett Connell (scarlet red/orange): a multimedia artist with a passion for eco-friendly graffiti, Scarlett Connell hails from the Pacific Northwest. Growing up on the Oregon coast, Scarlett fell in love with thrifting materials from old logging camps and cargo railroads. Her main outfit is a scarlet beanie, a scarlet plaid scarf, a white tank top, a pair of patchwork scarlet overalls, and graffitied scarlet doc martens. Her second outfit is a scarlet oversized flannel, faded rainbow dream t shirt, torn/cuffed scarlet jeans, and short scarlet rain boots. She keeps her makeup subtle save for a bold detail (scarlet tinged lip, blush, natural brows, graphic scarlet eyeliner) and her scarlet hair straight and chin length. Y’all…she’s the red/orange butch doll we’ve all been waiting for.

Paloma Gordon (pumpkin orange): a sweet-as-can-be baking and pastry major from Salem, Massachusetts. Growing up in such an autumnal region made Paloma fall in love with both the flavors and fashions of the season. Her primary outfit is a pair of cropped ankle pumpkin pants, pumpkin crocs, a white chef coat w pumpkin buttons, and a pumpkin orange neckerchief. Her second outfit is a pair of pumpkin plaid woolen pants, a white cable knit sweater w pumpkin detailing, and pumpkin suede booties. Her makeup is soft and warm yet very, very precise: much like her approach in the kitchen, and she keeps her hair in long curly pumpkin orange ringlets, tied back in a high ponytail. I always wished rh would do a baking major since culinary arts are some of the most impressive art forms in the world (we almost got there w poppy).

Amelie “Frenchie” du Mous (mustard yellow): always on point, Frenchie hones all of her high fashion skills from growing up in Paris into a neatly tailored fashion focus. Her primary outfit is a plaid mustard pinafore over a lace trimmed white blouse with bell sleeves, mustard yellow knee high socks, brown heeled oxfords with mustard laces, and a mustard beret trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a pair of knee length mustard plaid shorts w matching suspenders, platform mustard leather loafers, mustard mid calf socks, and a white puffed short sleeved blouse with a mustard plaid bow tie. Her hair is straight and long in two tails. We never got a dark academia girl so here she is to fall in love w scarlet

Ivy Pines (moss green): emerging from the woods for the first time in her life, Ivy is ready to bring her foraging gift to Rainbow High! Her art has always been from the forest around her and her family in Northern California, whether she’s crafting her own dyes or whittling intricate jewelry. Her first outfit is an ombré dip-dyed lace maxi dress (white into moss green) with thin straps, an oversized moss green cardigan, knit to texturally simulate moss (look up moss stitch w this specific rough spin yarn istg it looks just like moss), moss sandals, moss socks, and wooden jewelry with moss jewel accents. Her second outfit is moss green crochet pants, moss flats, and a white peasant top w moss embroidery. Her makeup is natural with mossy green eyeshadow, and her hair is loose beachy waves. She’d come w alt heeled feet but both her shoes would be flat :0. She’s the mori girl we deserved but never actually got.

Corinne St. Germaine (cornflower blue): traveling all the way from Middle-of-Nowhere, Nebraska, Rainbow High is Corinne’s first interaction outside of her hometown’s sixty people. She’s not totally ignorant of the world though—she’s actually huge on the internet! Her fashion style has been dubbed Lolita Americana: gold rush pioneer outfits through a cute girly lens. Her first outfit is a cornflower blue pioneer dress with a knee length hem, high neck collar, long slightly puffed sleeves, and white apron, as well as lace knee high cornflower stockings, cornflower leather ankle boots, and a cornflower bonnet trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a cornflower wool coat, long cornflower wool skirt, and knee high cornflower riding boots. Her hair would have a soft wave and probably be in a half up style, and her makeup would be soft. In a perfect world she’s also got a parasol >:3

Leanna Royale (royal purple): Known for clothing real life royals and only the most fashionable celebrities, the prestigious House Royale has unveiled its latest stride into the fashion world: a daughter named Leanna. Raised from birth on fine art and livery, Leanna is a princess in all but political power. Her first outfit is a polished royal purple velvet pantsuit with a royal satin shirt and purple velvet heeled pumps. Her second outfit is a silk bejeweled minidress, royal purple bejeweled strap heels, and a royal purple fur stole. Her makeup is elegant and refined, complete with a royal purple lip. Her hair is long royal purple locs in an elegant updo, and yes: she has a tiara. She’s every bit of posh violet wishes she could be (/hj)

I’m gonna try and make these! Bases would probably be whatever I can find that’s cheap, though a good visualization I’m going on rn is based on the color create dolls (scarlet and mustard for green eyes, pumpkin and royal for purple eyes, cornflower and moss for blue eyes). Maybe I won’t go so far to do two outfits but I’ll try and at least make one for each :)

[racinggirl]

Question Time Results!

The green marked ones were correct, the red ones were wrong!

1. Where am I from? Most of you voted for Europe, which is correct! I am from the Netherlands :)

2. What is my hair colour? The majority of you voted for brunette, but I’m actually dark blonde! I did dye my hair brunette once, but dyed it back to my natural hair colour again!

3. What’s my age? I am 23, so you were correct with the 20-25 mark!

4. How tall am I? I am under 1m80, which almost everyone answered correctly! I’m actually 1m72 :)

5. Who’s my favourite driver? This surprised me! You all thought Charles is my favourite driver, but he isn’t my number one driver! You thought my second favourite driver was Lewis, which is wrong! I’m surprised because I honestly thought you knew, since I’m so open about it, but apparently I’m not? Haha. Anyways, I’ll have to say my number 1 driver is Lando Norris. I just feel like we have so much in common, and he’s around my age which makes me relate to him much more? I really do think he is able to win races, possible championships! My second favourite driver is Max Verstappen. First off, I’m a dutchy, and second off, I work for him :)

6. I am still in university, so you were correct with that one! I am currently writing my thesis and after that I want to work in the marketing / media world, hopefully somewhere in F1, but I will keep you updated on that if you’d want me to!

7. Have I ever been to a Grand Prix? You were wrong! Most of you thought I haven’t been at a grand prix before, but I actually have! I’ve worked at the Dutch Grand Prix in Zandvoort last year, 2022. It was such an experience! I loved every second of it 🤍

8. Have I ever met an F1 driver? Most of you voted for no… but I actually have met a Formula One driver! It’s not Max Verstappen, which some of you might think as I’m working at his official store. I do think and hope I will meet him one day though, so that’s a dream! But I’ve actually met my favourite F1 driver, Lando Norris! This was during my days at the grand prix, in which he was having his track walk on Thursday. Me and my friends saw him and as my friends didn’t dare to call him, I did. My exact words: “Lando? Sorry to interrupt, but could we maybe have a picture?” He replied with a ‘yeah’ and walked over towards us, after we took the picture. I didn’t want to be a basic person and say goodluck with the race, but I was too stunned to speak honestly, so I just thanked him for the picture. I wanted to tell him to enjoy the race, but I just froze because I couldn’t believe I actually met him.

I did also see him just after the race, after which I was waiting for my friends outside and I was leaning on the fence, checking my phone. It wasn’t too crowded, and there was a group of guys calling his name about 10 meters away from me, nobody else was around at this point. Lando’s carwindow was rolled down and he was waving at those guys. I still think that at that point it was a dream, but it definitely wasn’t. Lando then looked over at me, and I was still, really charmingly, leaning on the fence and checking my phone, but I made eye contact with him at that point. I wasn’t even smiling, I was just focussed on what was happening really. Here’s the thing that shocked me back then: he winked, and after that I immediately looked around and behind me, to see if maybe he was winking at another person, someone behind me or next to me, but there was nobody around me at that stage, so I just looked back to where he was, and I smiled, extremely shy. I probably was still processing what was happening. Anyways, once I smiled at him he smiled back at me and drove away. I just couldn’t believe what happened, and that moment literally felt like minutes, when in real life it was just a few seconds.

I really had my y/n moment there 😂😂😂

But that’s basically the story of how I ‘met’ Lando Norris! It was insane and I am so grateful for this opportunity I got.

[realismreading]

It’s been almost 2 months since I cut 4 inches of my hair off in my second year uni house’s living room mirror while my housemates watched Naked Attractions

My hair actually has grown a little and the debate now starts again. Do I let it grow out (something I’ve been considering for some time, as my hair hasn’t been long in about 2 years) or do I just … chop it even shorter?

[f3itansgirlygirl]

drivers license - suna rintarou

part 2 right here

inspired by the song driver's license

his house is right there, right in front of me. 

sitting in the car biting my lip holding back the sob that threatened to escape, how did it become like this? how did i end up sitting in here alone while you went off with her? that was supposed to be me, you said you would wait? 

suna rintarou

a beautiful boy, his smile never failed to warm your heart. the way he would hold you in his arms, pout when you weren't paying attention, brush your hair behind your ear, the way he would kiss you and buy you your favorite drinks or take you to that little park you loved so much as you guys watched the sunset and fell in love all over again.

then how did it get like this? 

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

“hi my name is l/n y/n and i'm your new manager!,” you introduced yourself. was a first year at inarizaki and needed to get into a club, atsumu decided to introduce you to the coach and give in a few words.

looking around the team you felt a nice presence, and that's when your eyes landed on his, those green piercing eyes. having his knees to his chest laughing at atsumu for trying to punch him for showing him something on his phone. 

the way his laugh died down but kept a smile as he looked at you. 

you blushed but became distracted as kita called you over.

“thank you guys for accepting me have a good night!,” you said grabbing your bag and leaving. “wait up i’ll walk with you,” you heard a voice behind you say. you turned to hear the voice and it belonged to him.

you guys walked under the stars, you shivered forgetting a jacket and that's when he looked at you and smirked. “the old jacket technique huh let me guess you want me to take mine’s off and give it to you,” 

you gasped and looked right at him, “no i actually forgot you weirdo whatever i guess i'll walk faster,” you said speeding up. “wait i’m just teasing here i have a hoodie it’s my sleeping in class hoodie so better not ruin it.”

you took it hesitantly but put it on either way, it was big and burgundy and my god the scent you can still remember to this day how good he smelled like. “looks good on you maybe i’ll let you keep it,” he said as you guys continued to walk.

that was your first interaction, your first words to each other and one of the many nights you guys have come to spend together

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

everything else came easily, even though having a age gap it didn’t stop your feelings whatsoever, and also never stopped him from showing affection.

you still remember your first kiss

how he kissed you by surpised on the slide of a old park where you guys sneaked out to get ice cream.

still remember how he started bringing extra hoodies and hair ties since you had a habit of forgetting both.

still remember that night under the stars in the backseat of his car when he looked at you and told you he was in love with you.

you teared up staring at him as he giggled softly caressing your face, holding your waist even more closer to his chest as your bodies connected.

“i love you rintarou,” you smiled crying softly. 

he looked at you rubbing your tears away, “and i love you y/n l/n,”

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

how it was such a good 6 months. looking back you should have seen the way you guys would only hang out around the night or weekdays. 

how he wouldn't hold your hand in school or only be affection around the team.

and how you guys weren't exactly official, never asked you officially to be his but hey because of the memories spent together you thought of course your his and he’s yours.

you first saw her when she came through the doors, holding his notebook as she apologized but nevertheless gave him a smile and he gave one back. she was pretty- like really pretty. 

pretty blue eyes, blonde long hair, beautiful body.

“so this is what overthinking feels like huh,” you mumbled as you shook your head and went back to setting the net up.

after practice you and suna as always walked home 

you guys decided to take a detour heading to your park where many memories were made. 

“hey rin,” you asked as you looked over the river that was by the bridge. “yes love?,” he replied. “what are we?,” you asked him.

please say im yours...

“well your younger than me, i want you to be mines and you already are, always and forever sooo how about this,” he turned to look at you and bent down so his head was right at yours. “when you become a 2nd year and get your driver's license we can officially be together yeah? i'll get down on one knee and ask you to be mine,” he rolled his eyes as you giggled. 

he stuck out his pinkie and you stuck out yours. “you’ll wait for me?,” you said.

he wrapped his pinkie around yours, “always, make sure you just don't crash don't want you dying before your mine but yes i promise i will wait for you l/n,” suna smiled grabbing you and pulling you in for a kiss. 

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

finals came up and yes you and suna got distant due to you studying, yet you weren't nervous you were excited to finally walk down the halls holding his hand.

looking back you should have seen the signs of him not texting you often or wanting to help you, you shrugged it off maybe he was struggling in some classes too.

finally the day was here, texting osamu all morning about how you would pick them up for school so you can show off to suna. 

laughing driving up to school with the twins, you got out the car and seeing suna’s back against one of the walls

 you were about to call out for him until you saw her again. this time she was wearing the burgundy hoodie, and he was the one holding her hand. he was smiling? the smile he gave you specifically to you he was giving to her. 

tears filled your eyes. 

“y/n chan.. i’m-” , “its okay atsumu just get to class okay?,” you turned around hand shaking as you hold your keys, tears spilling down your eyes. “i'm going to be okay,” you smiled. “no, you’re crying,” 

“i said i’m okay, i’m just going to leave,” you said running to your car and getting the fuck outta there. 

leaving you saw atsumu go up to suna and scream at him. 

your heart felt like it was being pulled, this can’t be real? 

you headed home, slamming your door and falling to the ground, how could you rin? 

flashes of him and her passed your mind seeing how happy he was. 

you looked underneath and saw a photo on the ground. your grabbed it and sat on your bed, it was you and him in a photobooth smiling and then kissing. underneath in his handwriting he wrote “my love always and forever,”

you felt like throwing up, so this is what heartbreak feels like. 

you were hurt mad even at the fact that before anything was able to happen it was already ruined. you cried yourself to sleep wanting to ignore the pain/

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

you woke up around 9 p.m, you were confused but remembered all that happened today

“so that wasn't a horrible dream?,” you tried to laugh it out but really couldn’t.

you needed fresh air, you changed into sweatpants and a baggy shirt.

going for a drive blasting music, you didn’t know where you were going but you just needed to feel the air flowing past you. you stopped at the red light, everything was getting blurry tears now leaving as you hit the steering wheel. 

you kept driving and ending up parking in this neighborhood, being very familiar but automatically knowing where you ended up. you looked to your right and saw his house.

you were about to get off trying to get closure you said, needing answers still trying to doubt everything and thinking maybe this was a horrible joke from the twins and him but then you got all the closure you needed. seeing as the door opened revealing the girl coming out.

your heart dropped seeing how happy they were and dare you say actually look good together. he smiled down at her and grabbed her for a kiss. 

you gasped as a heart wrenching sob escaped your lips, she walked away as he never took his eyes off her figure.

that was me.

 he then looked turning his head and made eye contact with you, you just silently laughed as you shook your head at him and turned on the car leaving. “y/n wait!,” you heard him say as you left.

you headed to the small park and sat in the slide looking up as you laid down and finally let everything out. “never knew your waiting was just a short trial did i have to pay for millions of hours?,” you cried as you looked up in the sky seeing your memories replay in your head

‘Cause how could I ever love someone else’ And I know we weren't perfect but I've never felt this way for no one

And I just can't imagine how you could be so okay now that I'm gone Guess you didn't mean what you wrote in that song about me 'Cause you said forever now I drive alone past your street’

your phone dinged as you look who texted you

suna rin: y/n we need to talk... suna rin: please, i am so so sorry just hear me out. suna rin: i really did wait i just, please let's just meet up.

you texted back 

“im really happy for you suna, goodbye rintarou.”

you then deleted his contact as you took a deep breathe and sat up.

“i still see your face

In the white cars”

you grabbed your head, “was i not good enough?,” 

“We crossed I still hear your voice In the traffic We're laughing”

flash back

“you know i think we're meant to be,” suna said from your bed as you were on your laptop finishing some things. “wow such a hopeless romantic,” you smiled at him as you were putting back your earphones. “just maybe right person wrong time,” he said softly. you looked back at him, “i'm sorry did you say something,” you asked him. he just shook his head, “nothing i was just saying your a nerd,” he said as he threw a pillow at your face. “you know what,” you got up and jumped on top of him both laughing.

flashback over

‘God, I'm so blue Know we're through But I still fucking love you, babe’

you finally realized what he said, right person wrong timing 

you looked up at the cherry blossom tree and softly smiled

“your right suna we really were meant to be just right person, wrong time.”

i guess not every love story is meant to be complete.

the end.

[pretty-boys-book-club]

CAT!! i just saw you in my notifs and squealed i missed you!! how are you!! how are things??

Oh my, okay, I had this WHOLE response written out but our dearest hellsite decided to delete it 😡 so, starting over…

Hi, Jay 💜💜💜💜💜 How have you been?

I’m still around, who would’ve thought?! Jokes aside, I’m alright, been resting a lot lately and feel a bit more energetic than I was in the past. Still haven’t managed to write anything, but I’m trusting that it will eventually come back to me. Been watching Bones for the first time and ugh, it gives me SO MANY fic ideas, but I just can’t manage to put them down in words. Also have rewatched CM with my sisters (we’re currently on Season 6!), I feel like this time of year is the perfect time for seeing the show once again.

Been trying to keep up with all the reboot news, but I’m not that into it, to be completely honest. I’m giving it the benefit of the doubt for now, since I really look forward to seeing some of our faves once again, but I can’t quite shake the feeling that it’s too soon, too rushed. I guess we’ll have to wait until it airs.

I’m also a bit tense because elections are coming up in the country I live in, and there’s a real risk of the current bigot in chief (aka Tropical Trump) being re-elected. And that would pose a real threat to the well being of a lot of people very close to my heart, particularly my LGBTQIA+ and POC friends. There’s a chance the left candidate will win the election (I’m rooting for it so hard) but even then, the political climate is really tense and I fear we’ll see a spike in politically motivated violence until the Presidential Inauguration takes place in January 2023. Very depressing and anxiety inducing news.

Thankfully though, time has just been flying by! I’ve managed to reconnect with some old friends, started to go out some more, have dyed my hair red (you know, changing your hairstyle is the most important sign one is going through ✨something ✨), even developed a crush on one of my coworkers (let’s not talk about that, because it’ll most likely lead to NOWHERE).

Side note about the hair: I’ve wanted to do this ever since I was around 14-15, but I’ve never mustered up the courage to do it. Until a few months ago, when my therapist encouraged me to do something I’ve always wanted to do but scared me.

Anyway, on a more personal note, I’ve been busy planning an “euro trip” with two of my closest friends. I’m really proud of myself because I’m the one that has basically done all the schedule and took care of booking our flights, trains and hotels. Really looking forward to it, as well as having the almost the entire month of November to travel and disconnect from work and other daily trials. That’s what’s been driving me at the moment.

Oh, and Halloween, because it’s my favourite time of year. Even if it’s not widely celebrated around here, I love it so much. Can’t wait to start rewatching “Practical Magic” and “Hocus Pocus” until everyone in my house is sick of it. My friends are planning on going to a party at a night club on Oct 29th, so I’m trying to come up with a costume. I’m leaning towards going as Wanda in the iconic vintage Scarlet Witch costume (just because I want to be able to dress up as a character that has red/ginger hair). But still not sure.

Anyway, what about you?? I hope you’re doing fine as well!

[novamirmirsblog]

So stay with me

Word count: 1957

Request: Yes

Genre: ANGST

Warnings: DEATH. SADNESS. Like there is literally no silver lining.

A/N I've done the foster system based off how it is where I live. I don't know what it's like for other countries so I apologise if it isn't quite the same for where you live :3 ALSO I'm going to put the request elsewhere because in order for the full unhappiness, you must experience it like this 😈

When you first entered the S.H.I.E.L.D training programme, you had been hand picked by Fury himself. You were bouncing from foster home to foster home at the time, causing general trouble by stealing, fighting and lashing out at anyone and everyone. You had no real direction. You knew you were most likely to end up on the streets - sure your social worker would still check in occasionally after you had aged out of the system but there were more and more kids being given up. Realistically, you knew you were on your own. When you reached 13 you knew that no one was going to adopt you. Especially when there were babies and young children available. Deep down, you had figured it out when you were around 9 but you clung to the naive hope that you were wrong.

~~~~~

Fury found you when you were 15 but didn't take you in until you were 17. It was the day after your 17th birthday when he turned up at your foster parent's door. He said he wanted to take you for a military programme and you packed your bag before he had even finished his speech.

You went through years of intense training and passed top of your class for everything. It was surprising considering you had never been first before. What was more shocking was the need for praise. You had always believed that you didn't need it. You had never had it before, so why is it a necessity. You realised how wrong you were when Maria took you to the side and told you that you had done well. The comment replayed in your head for months.

~~~~~

You were 23 when you first joined the Avenger's initiative. 23 when you first met Natasha. The two of you didn't hit it off to begin with, Natasha didn't like how reckless you were and you didn't like how far the stick was shoved up her arse. Truth was, you both liked each other a little more than just friends but neither of you knew how to deal with these emotions. Let's face it, Natasha grew up being told 'love is for children' and you grew up in the system where the cracks were so big elephants fell through them. The team could see it though.

"Just ask her out." Wanda told you while sitting on your bed painting her nails.

"Who?"

"You know exactly who. I can read your mind and your thoughts are very loud."

"No. Your information is wrong." Wanda grabbed your hand, painting the left one first.

"Y/n just ask Natasha out. She'll say yes."

"I hate her. We're enemies."

"Some say you have to love someone to hate them and besides" Wanda paused, gauging your reaction "You wanting to bend her over a table doesn't sound very enemy like."

Heat rose in your cheeks and you prayed nothing gave you away. "Untrue. I want to do that in an enemy way."

"Sureeee..."

From then on, you were extremely careful to keep your thoughts quiet. Especially when you had to watch Natasha train.

~~~~~

It was Natasha who asked you out. At first you thought she was joking and very nearly laughed but then you saw how she was standing, how she said 'will you go out with me' with such nonchalance that it was as if she was asking you to pass the ketchup. No one could be that cool and collected. It was the way she even played slightly with her fingernails that showed you she was nervous. You of course said yes.

That was the beginning of your relationship and you had been going strong for a good five years. The nausea and tiredness however, started three years into your relationship. Natasha used to joke that maybe you were pregnant when it had first started happening, the others laughing at even the thought of you cheating on Natasha. The jokes died down when after a month and a half of running to the bathroom, it finally affected your missions. You were sent right off to Dr Cho and no one would have anything else said on the matter. You had tried to fight them, of course - it really wasn't that bad. All you needed to do. was take some anti-nausea medication and you would be fine.

Leukaemia

You knew that one little word would do so much damage to your strange family if they ever found out. You sat in silence as you formulated a plan, Dr Cho just watching you, letting you process. What was the point in telling your family and causing them pain if the treatment plan Dr Cho had lined out for you worked? There wasn't. That's why you kept it a secret. Why you brushed off any comments about your increased nausea, or your lack of hunger. The only person who knew was Fury.

~~~~~

"Are you cheating on me?" Natasha had cornered you after a particularly tough session of chemotherapy. All you wanted to do was sleep.

"No. Why would you think that?" Words were hard to say when you had to put all your energy into just standing up.

"You go out at all times of the day and night, you're too damn tired to do anything and you never talk to me anymore Y/n... If you wanted to break up you didn't have to cheat."

You knew this day would come eventually. It was a year into your treatments and none of them seemed to be working. Natasha wasn't stupid. It's why you kissed her on the head and pulled her into the tightest hug you could muster.

"I would never do that. I love you Natasha Romanoff. I'll explain but let me get everyone here." You asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to call everyone down to the living room.

Once everyone was settled on the sofas and chairs, you sat on the coffee table, no longer being able to hold yourself up.

"I have leukaemia."

At first, you couldn't bring yourself to look at the others. You didn't want their pity but you knew they wouldn't be able to show anything else. You looked at Natasha first. You knew she wouldn't have a pitying look on her face.

You were right.

Natasha looked furious. How dare someone who didn't even want you in their lives give you a horrible disease. She knew your chances of survival weren't good but there were treatments that could help. She had more than enough money to get whatever treatment necessary.

Tony spoke first. "I'm going to my lab. FRIDAY, contact Dr Cho. I need Y/n's medical details."

Bruce followed quickly behind him. The others gave you sad but hopeful smiles. You couldn't bring yourself to tell them there was little hope.

~~~~~

Natasha had been gone on and off for 6 months. You knew your time was coming to a close but she still hadn't given up. She was always in some country following a lead for some experimental drug to try and cure you.

But there was no cure.

Not for this. Maybe one day there would be a cure, but not in your lifetime. The cure wouldn't be able to save you.

You were almost hesitant to let Natasha come back. It had been a while since she had seen you and now you looked like paper. You were thin and fragile and your skin had lost it's colour and took on a grey tinge. Your cheeks were hollow and your lips were constantly chapped and the only thing you could stomach were tiny meals and energy drinks.

You were dying.

Everyone had come to terms with it. Tony and Bruce never stopped trying to find a cure, it just wasn't for you anymore. Wanda tried her best to keep you as comfortable as she could with her powers and Steve would come and tell you stories of before he was put in the ice to entertain you. Clint would bring his kids until it got too painful for them to see you turn from the scariest, coolest person they knew into a hollow shell.

The only person who hadn't come to terms with it was Natasha.

"Nat she needs you." Steve told her when the team were all eating.

"I know. I really think this time this lead will be the one. Then she can be fixed and-"

"Natasha." Wanda cut her off, her voice dangerously low. She had heard this speech so many times that it was painful to hear it again. "She needs you. She's dying and you need to accept it. You don't have much longer left with her and you're abandoning her when you should be with her 24/7!" Wanda's eyes glowed slightly red as she thought of all the times she had to watch her best friend realise the love of her life wasn't there with her. The cutlery began to shake a little and something fell over in the kitchen.

The crash that you heard woke you up. Maybe it was Natasha. You hobbled out of what was supposed to be your shared room, and made your way to the kitchen. By the time you had reached the kitchen, everyone was fighting. There was food being thrown, knives being grabbed and glasses shattering everywhere. You just stood there as your best friend and your girlfriend attempted to kill each other.

"guys stop." Your throat hurt from hours of throwing up so your voice didn't carry.

"guys really..." You tried again, tears forming in your eyes. You didn't want to spend your last days watching your loved ones fight.

"FRIDAY tell them to stop. please."

"Miss Y/l/n would like you all to stop. Now."

Everyone turned to the doorway where you were standing, horrified that you saw them fighting.

"Y/n, you need to get to bed sweetie." Wanda walked over to you, wrapping her arm around your waist.

"Don't touch her." Natasha stormed over, taking your other side.

"Ladies there's no need to fight. You can share right?" You let out a soft laugh and watched as they both melted. Just because you were dying, it didn't mean you lost your sense of humour.

They both took you back to your shared room, Wanda leaving to give you and Natasha some privacy.

"Please don't go anymore." You laid with your head on Natasha's chest, her hand stroking your hair.

"But I'm so close. I can cure you Y/n."

"Natty please. I can tell I don't have much longer left and I don't know if I'll still be here for when you come back if you leave again."

"But I can't lose you." Natasha whispered, scared that if she spoke any louder, some other power would hear her and take you away from her too soon.

"So stay with me."

~~~~~

It was strange, you thought, lying on your bed; you had always thought you would die doing something spontaneous, or maybe in the field. Not because your cells were abnormal. Natasha had spent every moment with you since she returned 5 months ago. You had planned everything; your funeral, little messages to each of them, where to bury you. Everything was sorted. All that was left now, was to die.

It was an ordinary Wednesday afternoon when you felt the last drops of life drain from you. You knew it was time and so you turned to Natasha who had you wrapped up in her arms, placing a hand on her face, the rest of the Avengers all sitting there quietly.

“When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you.” You then let your eyes drift shut, never to open again. Not in this world, anyway, but perhaps in the next.

A/N pt 2: NOOO BUT WHY AM I CRYING. THAT'S NOT THE RIGHT WAY AROUND. We've got some Peggy Carter fluff coming up soon tho :)

Also here is the request:

A Natasha x fem!reader. Reader was one of THE best shield agents and a great member of the avengers, but sadly had genetic cancer. After fighting for two years, with nausea, pain, and no improvement, reader knew she was dying. She didn’t want to admit it, especially after all the team has done to help her, especially her girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. No amount of treatment or amount of money or technology Tony had was gonna save her. In the end, reader comes to terms with it. But Natasha doesn’t want reader to give up. Reader get through to Natasha that she wants to spend her last moments with her without putting more strain on her body. Natasha then comes to terms with it. Eventually, on readers death bed, surrounded by the rest of the avengers, Natasha is holding reader in her arms as reader says goodbye and looks to Natasha and says “When the time is right, we’ll be together again. I’ll always be with you” (GO NUTS AND MAKE IT ANGSTY)

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Red Was My Favourite Colour (J.JK)

Warnings : talk of abuse, talk of cheating

Synopsis : after an abusive relationship, y/n is able to find love again.

Word Count : 1431

Author’s Note : I am reinventing this tumblr page. I understand a lot of those who follow me followed me for the people I posted in the past, but they just don’t interest me anymore. I still want to write imagines, and have written tons in the time I was away. But they all have to do with the kpop band BTS. So if you like BTS, I hope you enjoy. I will keep all my other imagines up, but I will be posting primarily BTS from here on out and will be creating a new Masterlist. Thank you!

The first red flag came after one month of dating when I told him I was going home for a week. I posted pictures of my brothers, and he called me incessantly until I answered. I knew everyone could hear his yelling on the other end, but no one said a thing as I calmly explained everything and reassured him that I was his. He told me he loved me then.

           The second red flag came on our 100th day when he was late to the reservations he had made smelling heavily of perfume that wasn’t mine. But he bought me a pretty diamond necklace, telling me that the diamond of his life deserves diamonds of all kinds.

           The third red flag came when I introduced him to my best friend, Park Jimin, and he immediately asked how many times we hooked up in the past. We explained our relationship isn’t like that. We’ve been best friends since diaper days and were practically siblings. He explained his ex had left him for her best friend, and I reassured him I only loved him.

           The fourth red flag came on our 6-month anniversary when he suddenly had a work conference out of town. I had a sinking suspicion that he was lying to me, and that was confirmed when his boss called me, asking me to remind my boyfriend about the early meeting the next morning. I told him I thought they were at a work conference for the weekend, his boss said there was no such thing and he said he was taking me on a trip for our anniversary. He came home with a bunch of gifts for me, apologizing for missing our 6-month anniversary.

           The fifth red flag came with a harsh slap across my face when I spoke back to him. He held me softly afterwards, tears in his eyes as he promised me he would never hurt me again. I wiped away his tears and forgave him, keeping this a secret from my best friend.

           The sixth red flag came with purple bruises littering my body. Jimin asked where they came from and I always shrugged it off, blaming my clumsiness. I promised my boyfriend I wouldn’t make him angry again. It was my fault anyways.

           The final red flag came when I opened my eyes in the hospital, my eyes meeting those of a police officer, asking for my story. I wanted to protect him, but Jimin had caught him red handed with the gun aimed right at me. I spilled all the red flags I noticed throughout the year we were together. Jimin cried as he listened to everything I said, asking me why I didn’t speak up sooner.

           “Because red is my favourite colour.” I whispered in response.

           My first month of healing was spent scared to leave the apartment I now shared with Jimin. I met his two other best friends, Jeon Jungkook and Kim Taehyung. I was shy at first, but they made me feel comfortable.

           My second month of healing was spent taking small steps to become independent again. Jimin wasn’t going to be around forever to take care of me, no matter how much he disagrees with that statement. Jungkook and Taehyung came around more often, and I welcomed them fully in my life.

           My third month of healing was spent exploring the world I was hidden from during my relationship. I spent a lot of time filming my surroundings with Jungkook. He would send me videos he took of our adventures, and I noticed he tended to film me rather than the scenery. You are the scenery. He told me once. Butterflies flew around my tummy.

           My fourth month of healing was spent laughing openly and truly with my new friends. The four of us spent a lot of time together, exploring the city and getting lost in neighbourhoods we were unfamiliar with. Jungkook and I got split up from Taehyung and Jimin, so Jungkook held my hand saying he didn’t want to lose me too. I laced our fingers together as I looked up at him with a smile.

           My fifth month of healing was spent sneaking around with Jungkook on dates. We didn’t want to make Jimin, or Taehyung feel weird with our blossoming relationship, so we hid it. He kissed me for the first time in the moonlight outside my apartment building. He asked me to be his girlfriend and I said yes. I felt content.

           Our first month together was spent with more secret dates and kisses when no one was looking. Jimin had caught us eventually, saying we weren’t subtle in any way. He congratulated us, and warned Jungkook that if he ever hurt me, it was on sight. I laughed at the thought. Jungkook could easily take Jimin, but he wasn’t like that. I felt safe.

           Our second month together, he invited me along to meet a couple of his other friends, Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. He promised they were good people and there would be nothing to worry about. I could see the hopefulness in his eyes and agreed. I felt comfortable immediately and quickly opened my world up to them.

           Our third month together, we spent a lot of time with all of our friends going for more adventures like old times. He never let go of my hand, not bothering with an excuse this time, not that he needed one. I would hold his hand until the end of time.

           On our 100th day, he took me for a picnic and gifted me a cute necklace with his initials and a heart. He whispered I love you in my ear as he put it on me. I kissed him and told him I loved him too. It felt right.

           By our 6th month, I found a job and felt comfortable being left alone again. Jungkook would always come for my lunch break though, saying he was used to seeing me all the time. I introduced him to two of my coworkers who were quickly becoming my work friends, Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi. He smiled and thanked them for making me feel comfortable. There was no need to be jealous because he knew I loved him.

           By our first anniversary, all of our friends had met and the 8 of us spent a lot of time together at someone’s place. We did karaoke a lot that resulted in a lot of drunken nights. I wasn’t once scared of Jungkook when he was drunk because he never put his hands on me.

           On our anniversary, he took me to a fancy restaurant. We updated each other on the things we’ve missed and laughed at some dumb things our friends did. By dessert, he slid an envelope across the table. I pulled out a letter and a key. Without even reading the letter, I knew he was asking me to move in with him. But it wasn’t until I read the letter that I realized he bought my dream house. It’s time to start our happily ever after. He said softly. There was no other answer besides yes.

           Our friends helped us move in. Jimin cried at losing his roommate to another man, and I cried at moving away from my best friend. We held each other for a while, rubbing each other’s backs as we cried. Jungkook smiled at us, a soft look in his eyes.

           Our first night living together, I was wrapped up in his arms as he played with my hair, humming softly. I’ve never felt so safe, so in love. He proved to me every single day that the relationship I had before wasn’t love. This right here, what Jungkook and I have, is true love.

           Red used to be my favourite colour, but now my favourite colour is the different shades of brown in his eyes. It’s the pink of his lips. It’s whatever colour he’s dyed his hair, the different browns and blues and purples. It’s the soft yellow the pours into our room in the morning and I wake up in his arms. It’s the navy blue of the night sky with the sparkly stars littering the sky as we stand on our balcony, him holding me from behind as he lists all the reasons he loves me.

           I used to love the colour red because it was the colour of the flags love once gave me. But now I love every single colour because Jungkook has showed me what love looks like.

[hesgunnalovethis]

Not That Bad

Leonard McCoy x Reader

Summary: You have the severity of your injuries in a twist sending Leonard McCoy’s blood pressure through the roof

TW: injury descriptions and strong language 

ft. bestie Jim Kirk <333

Masterlist!

Word Count: 1737

“Yes. No. I understand Mr Spock. Cuttings on your desk in 40 minutes. Got it.” You closed your comm and checked your watch. 

 You’d spent 16 hours Planetside and after a complication that had landed most crew in the MedBay, you agreed to help out botany to complete the mission report. Really you didn’t have a clue what you were doing but you concluded it couldn’t be that hard. 

 Cross referencing the plants in front of you to the list on your PADD, you picked up the plier looking utensil and began clipping the stems from the root. 

 “Maybe I should transfer to science.” You muttered to yourself after you’d successfully pressed the first few cuttings into their sample bags. 

Taking the next stem between your fingers you picked up the pliers and cut through the green and your fingertip, simultaneously. Blood shot upwards from your finger. You scoffed at the inconvenience. 

 You grabbed the first aid kit and examined the content that your Chief Medical Officer boyfriend had once talked you through and began to wish you’d listened. 

 Failing to remember anything, you wrapped a plaster around the top of your finger and watched it turn from white to red almost immediately. You tried layering another on top which bled through just as fast. After a failed third layer you took yourself from the lab and started towards the MedBay. 

 You stopped for a moment scouring your brain for which corridors to take. It had been so long since you’d actually journeyed to the MedBay by choice. You’d been utilising your doctor shared quarters. 

 Arriving at the desk you checked your watch again. 20 minutes before Spock was expecting you. You began to panic and turned to the receptionist. 

 “Could you ask Doctor McCoy to see me? It’s pretty urgent.” You said, grabbing a bundle of tissues from the display to contain the droplets falling from your finger. 

 The receptionist did as you asked and you heard Leonard through the comm.

 “On the bridge?” He asked. 

 “No, Sir. Here in the MedBay.” The receptionist in front of you responded. 

 “In the Med-“ You heard a fuss beginning through the comm and then a room number you were to be assigned. 

 No sooner had you arrived, a half scrubbed in Leonard burst through the door desperately searching for what heinous emergency had beckoned you to his MedBay. 

 “Are you being serious right now!?” Leonard asked ripping off the last of his scrub uniform. 

 “Always good to see you too, Lee.” You responded, smiling. 

 Sighing softly he shot you an apologetic look and planted a kiss on your cheek. 

 “Hi, darlin’” He whispered letting down his doctor guard and allowing his southern drawl back in. He began to look you over again, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” 

 You lifted your hand removing the tissue to reveal your slightly bloodied finger. Leonard took a step back rubbing his temples. 

 “Y/N, darlin’. PUT A PLASTER ON IT?!”

 “I tried that! It keeps bleeding though!” You whined. 

 “There are people DYING in here, Y/N.” 

 “Oh go on, please. I have lab work due in 15 minutes and I can’t work with this bleeding all over the samples!” 

 Leonard sighed and moved to the other side of the room to collect the dermal regenerator. Taking your hand in his he kissed the cut before placing it under the machine.

 He caught your eyes with his. “I left a 6 hour surgery for this.” 

 - 

 The next day you took your healed finger with you on your next mission where your team successfully released several hostages and transported their authoritative grasp to Enterprise Security.  

 “All clear, Jim.” You said to your comm after clearing the last room on your final check. 

 “Received. Take the turbolift to the bridge and let’s get out of here.” 

 Stepping into the foreign tube you found it very similar to Starfleet’s and got it moving towards the bridge. You began to hear Jim’s voice on the other side before the lift stumbled to a halt. 

 “Um, Jim?” You shouted through the metal. 

 “Great.” Jim said clocking the flashing error sign on the lift. “Don’t worry Lieutenant. We’ll... pry it open.” 

 “Full proof.” You said to yourself, getting ready to pull from your side. 

 After a brief plan outline and a countdown you began to pull. A small gap opened to the side and you managed to squeeze your body through before the door clattered closed on your newly regenerated finger. 

 “Again?! Why is it always you?” You asked your finger, pulling it from the metals grip and eying the purple residue left on it. 

 “Me?” Jim asked, doubled over from the effort he’d just exerted, before being distracted by his comm, “Bones! Yes, just calling to let you know of the ZERO injuries incoming to the MedBay!”

 “Zero injuries?” You cut him off. “This is a broken bone for sure.” 

 “Oh my god.” Jim said in disgust looking at the weird purple oil all over the metal, your finger and subsequently his uniform. “Why is it that colour?!” 

 “Dammit, Jim.” You heard through the comm before Leonard hung up and Jim reconnected to the transporter room. 

 You arrived back on the transporter pad to Leonard’s eyes burning a hole in you and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

 “Broken bone?” He said walking towards you.

 “This bastard finger.” You said and Leonard took your wrist to examine it.  

 “THIS-“ He stopped abruptly and calmed himself. “This is a finger, Y/N. BARELY a bone.” He examined it further, “I’m not even convinced that’s broken?” 

 “Tell you what though, it really fucking hurts.” You petted your lip at him. 

 Slipping an arm around your waist he led you out of the transporter room and towards the MedBay. “Let’s get you patched up sweetheart, but we really have to talk about your hyperbole.” 

 -

 It was a few days before you were due to arrive at your next destination and Jim had roped you into helping with his ensign combat training. 

 “It’s basically target practice.” Jim said in conclusion to a confused looking group of redshirts. “The phasers I’ve given you won’t shoot, but will read on the side if you’ve hit your target. It’s like laser tag! You’ve all played laser tag, right?” The room was silent. “And that’s another added to the list of shore leave activities.” 

 “Captain Kirk and I will be over here as moving targets.” You started, taking over from Jim. “Try and shoot me without hitting the Captain. Got it?” 

 You and Jim moved over to the course beginning the same choreographed fight you’d been using for years. You heard the pathetic fake phaser shots over and over and were beginning to question almost all of your life choices as a deafening shot fired and struck your side. 

 “Y/N!” Jim fell to your side, “PHASERS DOWN!” He shouted to the group briefly trying to determine which one hadn’t followed his only instruction ‘Do not bring your own phaser.’ 

 There was a small commotion before you heard Jim’s voice again. “Kirk to MedBay I need a team to training room 1 immediately.” 

 You found yourself back in the same biobed you’d frequented for past 3 days consecutively and tried to keep up with the nurses’ quick conversations. 

 “Someone page McCoy now.” You heard one of them say. 

 “Not Leonard-“ You interrupted, “He’ll jus- is there anyone else?”

 “Not anyone who could patch you up like Doctor McCoy.” One of the nurses stated opening their comm. “Doctor McCoy to room 6. On the double. It’s-“ 

 “Lieutenant Y/L/N?” Leonard cut off the nurse. 

 “Yes.” She replied. 

 “For once I’m not even surprised.” 

 The nurses continued fussing around you and your biobed beeps became angrier. 

 You watched the door open and Leonard’s face turn from passiveness to urgency in a millisecond. 

 “My god!” He shouted, dropping his board and beginning to order nurses to different machines connected to your bed. 

 “Listen, Leonard it’s not THAT bad.” 

 “NOT THAT BAD?! YOU’VE BEEN SHOT?!”  Leonard flicked his eyes between you and your vitals. 

 “Yeah, but, shot in a controlled environment.” 

 “You’ve been in here with a cut and a stave, guns blazing, and now you’ve been shot it’s ‘NOT THAT BAD?!’” 

 “Granted this doesn’t look-“ You were cut off by a wave of pain that sent you wincing. 

 “Hell.” Leonard turned to his own station briefly. “You’re not gonna like this sweetheart but you can tell me all about it when you’re back in one piece.” Leonard planted a kiss on your head and a hypo in your neck, sending you into sleep. 

-

Coming back to, you heard your biobed beeping at a normal rhythm and a strong accent beside you. 

 “I don’t care what his test scores are, he shot a Lieutenant I want him gone.” 

 “Leonard.” You scolded. 

 “Darlin’” He moved to you instantly closing his comm without a word. “How are you feeling?”

 “I’m fine. Sore neck.” You said rubbing where he’d hypo’d you. His eyes were still racked with worry. “It was an accident. That’s why we train them we-“ 

 “Darlin’ if he isn’t removed from this ship the only accident will be me prescribing him with cyanid capsules instead of his iron tablets.” He looked over your vitals again before picking up his clipboard, “But you let me worry about that. You can worry about this.” He handed you a laminated sheet entitled ‘Doctor McCoy’s Guide to a Serious Injury.’ 

 You shot him an annoyed look. 

 “Just so there’s no more confusion.” He winked at you. You glanced over the ‘Serious Injury: To Be Reported’ column. 

 “I hardly think ‘A sudden cough’ is a serious injury, Leonard.” You scoffed. 

 “Oh sure. Let’s just let your DNA de-evolve into non humane codes exterminating crucial pairings.” 

 “Noted.” You said admiring the doctor’s bedside manner, “Is there a second page?” You said spotting another sheet in his hand. 

 “No. This is Jim’s copy.” Leonard replied. 

 “Of course.” 

 Leonard brushed your hair behind your ears and smoothed your forehead. “I’m glad you’re finally visiting the MedBay doll, but I would prefer if you kept your trips to mandatory immunisations and essential check-ups.” 

 “I wouldn’t hold your breath, Doctor.” You said brushing your lips against his. 

“And somehow I still wouldn’t change you for the world.” Leonard said quietly before closing the space left between you.

[mxchellesworld]

Gloria

Spencer Reid x Latina!Reader

request; Spencer and a reader who is bilingual

synopsis; Spencer turns 30 and spends the day with his favorite people

warnings; just fluff

*I added translations for a few things at the end

a/n; fuck accent marks, all my homies hate accent marks>:( lol but really, i did this in spanish since i speak it and thought it would be cute - i am very happy i got this request! as always enjoy

***

Spencer was proud of his multi linguistic skills, he had worked hard to be able to communicate with others in different languages. However when he wasn’t using his skills in a case or for research, his language skills were put to great use in watching his Russian films and trying to impress you.

While yes you had been together and married for nearing 6 years, it was always his main goal. Even when you first started to get to know one another and he met your parents he whipped out formal spanish greeting, with Elle’s help of course, which immediately had your mother swooning. Papa took some getting used to but now Spencer was his son at heart.

When you found out you were pregnant with your little girl he made sure to get books in spanish as well. According to him the novelas you watched weren’t gonna do much to help but give her more of your sass.

But when she came into the world he was more than overjoyed hearing your cooing over her. The way her big brown eyes lit up hearing your voice in the mornings.

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” you said switching off the sound machine in the nursery. Instantly you were met with the sound of tiny giggles immersing from the swaddle of yellow fluffy blankets in her crib.

Another thing Spencer told you was that talking to babies was key in helping develop their speaking and understanding skills. Of course there was a percentage to accompany the fact but you got the just of it.

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” you said lifting her up and running your fingers through the steady growing curls on the top of her head.

She instantly perked up at the mention of her dad. Gummy smile spread across her chubby cheeks.

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” you finished by rubbing your nose onto hers. She shrieked in laughter, her tiny hands grabbing onto your hair.

After giving her diaper a quick change and dressing her up in her favorite onesie which read ‘daddy’s genius’, of course gifted by the best god mother Penelope Garcia, you walked over to your bedroom.

She clung onto your earrings as you patted down the hall trying to make minimal noise and wake up Spencer. You opened the door to see him still sound asleep having come back from a case late at night.

He was laying on his back, head tilted to the side with one hand under the pillow and the other on his stomach. You watched the rise and fall of his steady breathe in the Halloween t-shirt he slept in.

You smiled at the hitch in Gloria’s breath seeing her daddy first thing in the morning. The way she wiggled her body in your arms just dying to see her favorite person.

You straddled his waist trying to keep your weight on your knees to not wake him up. You then placed Gloria on his chest and let her go to town. Her sloppy kisses on his cheeks woke him from his slumber.

He slowly opened his eyes and let the smile spread across his face, “Oh wow what a way to wake up,” he let out a giggle.

Spencer sat up and held her close to his face, peppering kisses all over her rosy cheeks.

“We wanted to give the best father in the world an early birthday gift. Huh G,” you said calling for the little girl.

She babbled away in agreement making both you and Spencer share a laugh. You got off from his lap and snuggled into his arms.

“Well gracias Gloria,” he said bopping her nose, “I appreciate the wake up.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek and watched as the two interacted before getting up to make breakfast.

You left them in bed and went to the kitchen whipping up some pancakes and a bottle for Gloria. When things were finishing up you heard Spencer’s steps coming down the hall.

He sat her in the high chair next to the table and wrapped his arms around your waist as you plated the food.

“Thank you for the best birthday gift I could ever ask for. I love you so much Y/n, you guys make me the happiest man on earth.”

You turned and met him with a sweet kiss, “Love you so much more mi amore. You deserve every bit of happiness Spence.”

Your moment was brought to an end by tiny hands banging on the plastic tray of her high chair. You both shared a look of understanding before you sat in the chair next to Gloria’s.

Spencer sat across from you while the three of you shared breakfast together. Gloria’s attitude was quickly changed by the cut up pieces of pancake you let her munch on.

By the time you had finished breakfast she was ready to be bathed and have some playtime before her midday nap if she was to endure the fabulous party hosted by none other than Papa Rossi.

“I’ll clean up here, you give her a bath and get her ready,” you said taking Spencer’s plate.

“You cooked I can clean this up no problem,” he tried to argue.

“No no you guys have your daddy daughter time. Then you can read her a story before her nap,” you said nodding.

He smiled at you then picked her out of the high chair and leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek. You could hear him cooing and talking to her as they made their way down the hall.

_

By 2pm you were getting ready to head to Dave’s house or Uncle Dave as he’s been more recently known. He agreed to host Spencer a little birthday party which consisted of the team and their kids.

After getting gloria dressed she was still fast asleep in her car seat and the ride to Dave’s was smooth with small talk and quiet music on the radio.

Spencer drove with his hand interlocked with yours in the middle, randomly pressing kisses to it during red lights.

“Mama y Papa called to wish you a happy birthday. It was when you were bathing G but they told me to relay the message,” you said playing with the scarf around his neck.

You could see the small blush creep on his face. Any mention of your parents thinking and caring for him hit really hard within him. They knew of his past and did their best to have him know he was truly a part of your family.

“I’ll make sure to call them tomorrow and say thank you. Maybe we can visit them soon, I know they miss Gloria and I really miss your mom’s cooking,” he said with a smile.

Arriving at David’s you were met with the door being ripped open by all the kids of the BAU. The boys were more than happy to wish their Uncle Spence a happy birthday and greet their little girl.

Since she was the only girl of the bunch they had sworn to protect her the best they could. Even if it wasn’t much now, when she got older they would definitely be her playground body guards.

Penelope and Derek then let you guys in and attacked you both in the biggest hugs imaginable.

“Oh hot mama I’ve missed you so much,” Garcia said swaying you back and forth.

“I’ve missed you more Garcia. We should round the girls up and get brunch sometime,” you said with a quirk in your lip.

She instantly lit up and grabbed your hand to take you to the rest of the BAU ladies. You looked back to see Spencer and Morgan laughing as they cooed over Gloria who was now waking up for her godfather.

The rest of the night went down smoothly with Gloria being passed around like a hot potato. Though she never minded, loving the attention from all her aunts and uncles.She was quite the stunner. Even getting Hotch to break character and indulge her in a wholesome game of pickaboo. 

A few games were played and stories were told but it was time to cut the cake before it reached anyone’s bedtime. 

You sat around Rossi’s yard, the candles reading 30 glowed under the October sky. You all sang and held smiles on your face as Spencer blew out his candles. Gloria bouncing on his lap happily around all the commotion. 

While he’d never admit it, you knew he actually didn’t wish for anything. Everything he could ask for was surrounding him at that very moment and he was more than content with the love of his favorite people.

translations

“Donde esta mi princessa hermosa,” - “Where is my pretty princess”

“Vamos a despertar a papa,” - “Lets go wake up dad”

“Es su cumpleaños hoy. Creo que tu eres el mejor regalo que le pudia ver dado,” - “It’s his birthday today. I think you are the best gift I could have ever given him”

[bump1nthen1ght]

Sick Day (Demon x Reader)

Pairing: Gender Neutral Reader/ Non-Binary Demon

Genre: Urban fantasy, Domesticity, Established relationship

Warnings: Mentions of sickness (fevers, body chills, headaches), but nothing graphic

Word Count: 2008 words

Summary: Your demon partner isn’t sure how to play doctor

A/N: Based of this prompt by @monsterkinkmeme

“It’s the first time you’ve dated a demon and it’s also the first time you’ve gotten sick since you’ve been together. A fever paired with a throbbing headache has you hiding in bed for most of the day, trying to sleep whatever bug you caught, off. Your demon lover, on the other hand, is beside themselves and has turned to Google and WebMD on how best to take care of you. They now think you are dying because of your symptoms and are devising a way to save you.”

The minute I saw this prompt I was immediately awash with PINING for a large demon partner to cuddle with and I knew I had to write it.

A week after finals, 7 months into your relationship with Motholg, your immune system gives up.

You had been leaving work, thinking the heat in your cheeks and the ache in your bones was a product of a 6 hour shift, walking to Motholg’s apartment for date night. The past two week had you cooped up, anxious and studying, meaning you barely were able to make time for your partner.

You probably should have expected it, it’s happened every finals week since high school; A couple days into break you get a high fever and are stuck in your bed for a solid 48 hours. But you thought that, perhaps, this year was the exception. After nearly passing out when handing Motholg their fresh-made lasagna, you knew you weren’t so lucky.

“Darling?”

You groan from your blanket burrito, eyes and sweaty forehead barely peeking into the dim light of Motholg’s bedroom. The thought of forming a coherent thought makes your brain pound, so you don’t even try.

“I’ve made you some...uh…”

The door creaks open, Motholg automatically ducking their head so their long horns don’t hit the frame. Their red, slitted eyes narrow at something steaming in a teacup. “Yas-mine? Jasmeen? Uh-some herbal remedy I ordered from your virtual shopkeep. It was touted by several women named “Brenda” to  be the best thing for human illnesses.” Motholg’s hooves tap against the floor, just below the line of “too loud” for your migraine. You give another non-committal hum as they sit down on the bed. Despite being custom-made for their 7-foot stature, the bedframe still creaks under their weight. The top of your blanket sarcophagus is pulled back, revealing your disgruntled face.

Motholg helps you prop yourself up and hands you the teacup. You take a sip, quickly realizing it’s still quite hot, but power through anyway. The scalding water melts from your mouth down to your toes, abating your shivers, if only temporarily.

As you drink, Motholg’s fingers card through your messy hair, massaging your skull before resting their palm on your cheek. Their hand covers almost the entire side of your head, spotting a glimpse of a frown between their fingers.

“You’re even hotter than before and still quite sweaty. Would you like me to take the blankets?”

You shake your head, setting down your cup of tea.

“No, it’s probably just my fever breaking. It’s actually a good sign, despite how shitty I feel.” The warmth of your cocoon is beckoning you, your exposed chest and arms already shivering. “The blankets are good for my chills, but a big glass of ice water would be nice.”

Motholg raises an eyebrow, clearly perturbed by your backwards human symptoms. But they pat your head once more before sitting up.

“Of course, dear.” Motholg leans down to kiss your forehead, but is intercepted by the palm of your hand.

“Uh-uh, I don’t need you getting sick too.” Motholg scrunches up their face, then blows a raspberry into your skin. You retaliate by pushing away their face feebly.

“As if your human illness could fell me darling.” The sigh dramatically, pushing your hand away. “Though you are very sweet to think it could.”

You stick out your tongue and shove them. Motholg relents, blowing a kiss as they back out of the bedroom.

Your brain is beginning to drift into sleep when a glass clinks on the nightstand. Not bothering to open your eyes, far too tired, you mutter a “Thank you.” Motholg whispers a “You’re welcome,” as they lay on the bed once more. Their warm fur tickles your neck as they cuddle up behind you, arm thrown around your side and nuzzling their face into your hair. A hot breath and a slight nip of their extended canines only wills you to dreamland faster.

Motholg won’t go to sleep, only needing a full 8 hours every 4 days, but are rather content to lay beside you. They lovingly stroke your arm and sidle farther down under the comforter, whispering occasional sweet nothings and rocking you into unconsciousness.

--------

The dull red of the bedside clock pries open your eyes, a stark contrast compared to the pitchblack of the bedroom. Your brain is still in a fog, but given then the 3 AM flashing nearby, you’ve been asleep for about 9 hours.

And I’m about to sleep 9 more.

Motholg had left the bed at some point, but their warmth still lingers on the blankets. You close your eyes and snuggle in.

Slam!

But then the door slams open.

On a normal night, the noise might’ve jerked you upright , but your eyes simply roll over to the doorway. Your brain already misses unconsciousness.

Motholg stands, their new smartphone in hand as they breathe heavily.

“Darling, what did you say your body temperature was?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, slowly giving up on those peaceful 9 hours.

“99.7 last time I checked.” You tap your forehead with the back of your hand. “Probably less now. The sleep has been helping a lot. Good night.”

In an instant, Motholg is over to the bed, placing their hand on your forehead. You let out a disappointed sigh and try to go back to sleep anyways. The click of their hooves on hardwood, Motholg’s jittering shakes of your shoulder, and the strong smell of iron quickly eliminates that as a possibility.

You turn towards your partner, now noticing the sheen of liquid covering their hands. Red streaks follow their fingertips on their smartphone.

“Babe, why are your hands soaked in blood?”

“Goat’s blood, technically.”

Before you can even respond to that baffling answer, Motholg grabs your shoulder. The blood sticks to the short sleeves of your pajamas.

Damn, now I’ll have to wash this tomorrow.

“Here, it says the ritual-”

“The what?”

“-needs to be completed at 3:30 AM on a new moon.” Motholg pauses, checks their phone, then continues, “Yes, a new moon.”

Motholg begins to walk away, your arm still in their grip, but your resistance stalls them.

“Okay, Motholg, you’re scaring me. What’s going on? How the hell did you get goat’s blood at this hour?”

Motholg sighs and rolls their eyes, “Unimportant-”

You give Motholg a dissatisfied look, finally making them relent in heir tirade. They turn towards you.

“I fear for your life. I’ve consulted your online physician and your symptoms fall in line with many fatal illnesses.”

Now accepting that this is officially a conversation, you throw back your blankets and sit up.

“Do you mean WebMD?”

Motholg nods furiously and shows you their phone screen, tapping the glass with a long claw.

“See here? Full body chills are associated with pneumonia, so is a high fever. There’s also the possibility something is wrong with one of your organs. Not surprising, considering how squishy they are.” Motholg flicks their screen upward, a myriad of diagrams flips across it.

“Now, I know a couple of ceremonies my father used to perform to curse others with these illnesses, so I thought if I reversed the procedure-�� Motholg pauses again, flipping to a new tab on their phone, “-So, I did some googling-”

Motholg pauses when your hand rests against their cheek. Their red eyes, which glow just slightly in the dark, look to you. You brush your thumb across their face, just barely grazing against the fur which starts at the base of their neck.

“Darling, I appreciate the concern really, I do. But these websites…” you pause, slowly pushing Motholg’s phone down and out of eyesight, “They really only show worst case scenarios. Honestly, they kind of just scare you into going to a doctor in person.”

Motholg’s eyes dart between your face and their phone, now pressed face down on their bed. They give off an aura of anxiety and stress, their hands fidgety and their hooves lightly tapping against the floor. “Here,” You pull up the covers, opening up the spot next to you. “Do you want to lie down with me for a while?”

“Oh, I don’t need to rest.”

“Just because your body doesn’t require it doesn't mean it won’t feel good. C’mon.” You pat the bed. “I think it will give you some peace of mind, keeping an eye on me.”

Motholg’s eyes shifted back to their phone, their brow furrowed. You pout your lips and slide your fingers up their chest. Their fur sticks and tussles under your touch.

“Babe, I would feel better if you relax, seriously.” You reach down to the bedside drawer, pulling out your sleep mask. “You can even bring your computer and get some work done.”

Hesitantly, they nod. You sigh in relief. Their hand unconsciously twirls your hair.

“I suppose….You would know about these things.”

“Yes, thank you.”

Motholg leaves to get their things, while you slip back under the covers. Before you put your sleep mask on, you shout to them.

“Make sure to wash that blood off!” You look down at your damp sleeve. “And could you get me a wet wipe as well?”

Motholg makes an affirmative noise, and you finally lay back and close your eyes.

Their body heat lingers above your as they sweetly wipe away the blood on your arm. You mutter a thank you. The bed dips as they down next to you, mattress bending as they adjust their laptop and fluff the pillows.

“Darling?”

“Hmmm?” You murmur, face still stuffed in your pillow.

“I just wanted to apologize for waking you. I feel very foolish for acting so paranoid.”

You flip your head to their side, keeping your mask on.

“No need to apologize, I get it.”

“Thank you for your understanding, but still, I feel so silly. To think a tiny sickness would force my emotions to overcome me.”

You slowly push up your mask, eyes peeking out from under the duvet. Motholg sheepishly picks at their keyboard, avoiding your eyes,

As disgruntled as it made you at first, Motholg’s droopy gaze stirred guilt in your gut. You wonder how many scenarios had run through their head while they googled, how helpless they must’ve felt. There might be a hole paced into the floor of the living room, given how flustered they were when they barged in.

You reach out to Motholg’s wrist, brushing your thumb over the back of their palm. Their red irises look over, and you think you see the tinies remnants of tear tracks at the corner of their eyes.

“Emotions aren’t a bad thing, they’re natural.” Grabbing the top of the blanket, you roll over to Motholg’s side. Their large body dwarfs yours and when you curl up against them, the tips of your feet barely meet the top of their calves. Their black fur is soft against your face, like a  mixture of a plush carpet and a goosefeather pillow.

Oh good, they used the Tea Tree soap.

“I’d probably do the same if you got sick.” You reach your hand up to their chest, cording through their thick fur. “We’re just gonna have to trust the other’s okay, huh?”

With your chin tucked into their ribs, Motholg smiles down at you. A claw runs up the back of your neck, stirring up goosebumps but relaxing your muscles.

“I believe so, darling.” Their fangs jut out from their lips as they continue to rub your neck. It’s quite goofy looking, for a demon, and gets a chuckle out of you.

You crane your neck and Motholg meets you halfway for a kiss, consequences be damned.

“Good night, I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetling.”

You fall asleep with Motholg’s fingers curled in your hair, the slight tap of their claws on the keys, a simmering contentment in your heart.

--------

A week later, when  you’re back to full health, you and Motholg are making dinner when-

“Ah-choo!”

You stop stirring the pasta and furrow your brows at Motholg. They’ve stilled, mid-movement while setting out the plates. Their face burns with embarrassment.

“A silly human sickness, huh?”

[kiirokero]

Outro: Love Is Not Over (1)

Pairing: Daycare Teacher! Hoseok x Single Mom! Reader.

Genre: Single Parent! AU, Teacher! AU, Hybrid! AU, Fluff, Angst, Adorable Kids, 

Warnings: Don’t know if this counts but mentions of accidental pregnancies and shitty men. 

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Years after a relationship goes south. You are the single mother of a beautiful 6-year-old golden retriever hybrid who you named Yunho. He is the light of your life. Yunho is everything to you, and you’d do anything for him. But you’re a human. Yunho doesn’t care, he will tell you he doesn’t. “You’re still my Eomma. No matter what.” He says. But you can’t help but feel like you will never be enough for him. You can’t be the mother he deserves. You can’t show him the ropes of being a hybrid, and you can’t teach him things the other moms can. But you try. You try your damn hardest. So, when a handsome German Shepard hybrid comes into your life, helping you and guiding Yunho in a way you can’t, you can’t help the cozy home he sets up in your heart.

Chapter Guide:

Previous / Next

“Congratulations! It’s a boy.” 

“I-Is he okay?”

“Yes, he’s very healthy. Do you have a name in mind?”

“Yunho.”

“A very nice name.”

“Oh, he’s beautiful.”

“That he is. I apologize for asking, but you haven’t listed the father on his birth certificate yet.”

“I’m aware.”

“Are you going to?”

“No.”

“You’re aware what that means, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Well then, Ms. L/n, I’ll leave you be now. Press the button if you need assistance. A midwife will be coming to see you shortly.”

      “Eomma, wake up!” A giggly voice called. The bed was bouncing up and down, pulling me out of my slumber. I couldn’t help but laugh along. “All right, Yunnie, I’m up.” Yunho chuckled and lent down to give me my morning hug. “Good morning, Eomma.” He sighed, his fluffy blonde tail wagging in content. “Good morning, lovely. Did you sleep well?” I wrapped my arms around him, bringing him in for a snuggle. “Yes! I had a dream about giant squirrels!” He exclaimed. I let out an exaggerated gasp, “You did?! That’s awesome.” 

      Yunho wiggled out of my grasp and bounded towards my bedroom door. “Come on, Eomma! I’m hungry.” I chuckled and got out of bed. “Alright, waffles or toast?” I asked while I grabbed my sweatshirt, pulling it on. “Waffles!” Yunho answered, racing downstairs to the living room. I smiled to myself, I couldn’t help the warmth in my heart every time I saw my son. 

     Yunho had short hair that matched mine in color. He also had my eyes. I could see little pieces of myself in his face and it always made me smile. I didn’t pay attention to the features he and his father shared, even if they weren’t many. The most prominent feature they shared being his ears and tail, but somehow, Yunho made them uniquely his. 

      He never like getting his fur cut, would always sulk about it afterwards, he likes to keep the fur on his tail long so either him or I could braid it. He thought braids were so pretty, so he would ask me to braid all of his hair, and eventually, he learned himself. His fur on his ears was less long because of my insistence that having heavy ears would impair his ability to lift them. He could lift his left ear, but not the right one. He’s been working on that. 

      So, even if he was his father's child, he was still just Yunho to me. That man didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that Yunho has his button nose or freckles. It didn’t matter because Yunho was Yunho, and Yunho was the light of my life. He would run around the house non stop, bring me little rocks he found in the yard, draw pictures that had a special place on the fridge. Yunho was sunshine incarnate, and I couldn’t ask for a better son. 

      Downstairs, Yunho was sitting in front of the T.V, watching his favorite cartoon. It was about this hybrid boy and his best friend, who was human. Yunho said it was like him and I, that we were like the characters on screen, going on adventures every day. The sight made me smile yet again, and I went to the kitchen to get started on breakfast.  

     I could see Yunho from the kitchen since it was an open plan. Which wasn’t surprising because we lived in a small house. 2 bedrooms, 1 and 1/2 baths. It had a very large backyard that merged into woods. The area is pleasant, a little secluded, but that just gave Yunho more room to explore. The house got a lot of natural light with the large windows, and the air was always refreshing. 

      When I first saw the house, it was like a blessing. It was a little run down, but nothing I couldn’t handle, and it was cheap. A house being cheap should be a red flag, and it was, but it was worth it. The worst problem the house had was the hot water that ran out pretty quickly. In no way was it a luxurious mansion, but it was home, and that was all that mattered. 

     “Yunho! Come get your breakfast!” I called, placing his bright blue plate on the small dining room table we had. I heard his feet patter on the hardwood as he ran to the dining room. “Woah! Slow down, bub.” I chuckled. Yunho gave me a shy smile and sat down, immediately digging into his breakfast. “Is it good?” I teased, wiping away some stray syrup that threatened to end up in his hair. Yunho nodded enthusiastically, giving me a thumbs up. 

      We ate together with comfortable banter. Yunho was telling me about the latest episode of his cartoon, and I was more than happy to listen. The way his eyes lit up whenever he talked about something he loved was enough to make the toughest of men smile. “Eomma, can Hajun come over today?” Yunho asked in a hopeful tone. I thought about it for a bit, “I’ll call Aunt Hyejin and see if he can, okay?” Yunho brightened up and gave a little “okay!” In response.

     After we were done eating, Yunho put his plate in the sink and went back to watching T.V. I washed up the dishes and dialed Hyejin’s number. “Hey babe!” She answered in her usual cheery voice. I chuckled, “Hey sis.” 

      In reality, Hyejin wasn’t my sis or babe, but we were close like that. Hyejin was a Siamese cat hybrid that I met back in college. We were roommates, and we just clicked immediately. We were there with each other through everything. Shitty professors, family issues, breakups, shit men that make your life a living hell. She had her son, Hajun, a bit before I had Yunho, and helped me whenever I needed. 

      She and her husband, Yoongi, a Persian cat hybrid, were there with me through it all. They were the family I never had. Yoongi was like an overprotective older brother, and Hyejin was no different. They even helped me find Yunho and I’s home. We normally went on family trips to amusement parks or aquariums which the boys never seemed to get bored with. We were all one big happy family. 

     Yoongi and Hyejin were like polar opposites. Yoongi was chill while Hyejin was a bundle of never ending energy. Yoongi was quiet Hyejin loved to talk. Yoongi was an introvert, and Hyejin constantly dragged him out to parties that Namjoon, one of our mutual friends, had mentioned to her. It was funny to witness. Especially when Yoongi begged me to go in his stead, which worked 50% of the time.

      “So, what d’ya need? I’m all ears.” She snickered, and I could practically see her gray ears twitch. “Haha, hilarious. Yunnie wants to know if you guys can come over.” I answered. “Yeah, sure! We’re not doing anything today and I’ve been dying to talk to you about something.” She gushed. “Ooo, exciting.” I chuckled. “I’ll see you soon, babes. Love you!” I said I loved her back and hung up the phone. 

     Soon, Hyejin and Hajun arrived and the boys immediately began playing together. “Hey! So nice to see you!” Hyejin smiled, giving me a hug. “You too!” I was equally just as happy to see Hyejin since she and Yoongi had been a bit busy lately. We walked over to the living room where the boys were playing on the floor with their toys. Hyejin and I sat on the sofa and she immediately began talking. 

      “Okay! So, I’ve been dying to talk to you about this,” She started, already bouncing in her seat. “I can see that.” I teased, poking at her shoulder. “You know the job I was looking into? The daycare one?” She asked, and I nodded. “Well~ I got the job!” She exclaimed. My jaw dropped, a smile made its way onto my face. “No way! Congratulations!” I got up and squeezed her in a bone breaking hug, which she reciprocated. 

     “I know! I’m so excited!” Her tail was flicking behind her. “So, when do you start?” I asked, moving back into my seat. “Next week! I’m going to be the second teacher, helping someone named Mr. Jung.” She explained, and she went on to tell me how she got the job and how Hajun had asked if he could go, only to pout when Hyejin told him that he was too old. “I’m happy for you, Hyejin.” I smiled, excited that she was pursuing her dream of working with kids. 

      Hyejin, like me, got pregnant young and unexpectedly. But she was super thrilled. She didn’t care if she was only 20, she always wanted a child. She wasn’t married at that time, but Yoongi stepped up pretty quickly to raise Hajun with Hyejin. Yoongi was a cool dad, pretty laid back. Usually snuck the kids out to go get ice cream or pizza. Not that Hyejin or I minded, he treated both boys with the utmost care. He treated Yunho like his own son. 

      “So, have you met this Mr. Jung?” I wondered. “Not yet, but I had a phone call with him. Guess what? He’s our age.” She whispered, like what she was saying was some big secret. “Hyejin, we’re both 26, it’s not like a young teacher is unheard of.” I pointed out. “I know! But... What if he’s cute~?” She raised her eyebrows in a teasing manner, leaning closer to me. “I could be cupid.” She winked and I rolled my eyes. 

      “No thanks, Hyejin. I appreciate it, but love for me ended a long time ago.” I sighed and Hyejin huffed, dramatically slouching in her seat. “Y/n, just because... he... broke your heart doesn’t mean you should give up entirely.” She pointed out, looking at me with eyes full of undecipherable emotions. “Any man I date would have to be okay with being a father-like figure to Yunho. I’m 26 Hyejin, no guy my age wants kids yet.” I monotoned. 

      I had come to terms with the fact that most men didn’t want to date someone who already had a child. Not saying that it didn’t dishearten me a bit, but it was a revelation I made early on. If someone wanted me, they were going to want Yunho too. It either both of us, or neither of us. 

Yunho was my light, and he deserved a father that could be the things I couldn’t.

[plant-flwrs]

i just read house unity and i am in tears!! it's so beautifully written, you must be an author bc that is pure TALENT 😭✨ if you don't mind can i request george x soft hufflepuff reader? she's kinda pure and george is like ily let's be together. thx!!

budding romance // george weasley

masterlist!

a/n: um UR TOO NICE!!! thank you so much!!! I do not mind in the slightest, so I hope you like it hehe! um i also love hufflepuffs so much they are like the best house (coming from a ravenclaw) my sister is a hufflepuff and like three of my good friends are hufflepuffs so y’all are the best and i have a major soft spot for u. 

i’ve always found something about botany and plants incredibly romantic, so if this just sounds like a fanfiction for plants, you know why lol. I also made George a bit soft in this so i hope you don’t mind that either <3 n e ways, i hope you enjoy this! thanks for requesting! also sorry this took so long :( i had a bit of a hard time finding a solid idea but i think it worked out :) like, reblog, or leave any feedback if you’d like!

summary: George needs a tutor for Herbology, but has no plans on learning.

(3k)

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The back of your neck was particularly warm, and you hadn’t decided if it was because of the blazing sun shining through the Herbology classroom glass ceiling, or the fact that George Weasley was staring at the back of your head.

Your delicate fingers traced the back of the Dittany plant, feeling the bumps and lines of the veins that trailed to the stem. You wrote down some observations in your worn notebook, before glancing back at the plant. You picked up a pair of garden scissors, prepared to cut the plant at the stem.

“George Weasley is looking over here,” your friend whispered to you, casting a glance over her shoulder.

“I know, he does it often,” you replied, using a pair of tweezers to pull apart the Dittany.

“Do you think he needs something?” she asked, returning back to her own plant.

“I just figured he was copying what I was doing,” you wiped a bit of moisture off of your hand and onto your apron, taking the opportunity to look over your shoulder.

George’s eyes met yours, and his face flushed with an embarrassed blush. You offered him a kind smile, your eyes falling down to his mangled Dittany plant. You looked back up to his eyes, this time sympathetically smiling at him.

You returned to your own plant, jotting down a few more notes in the stained journal next to you.

Herbology was a strong suit of yours, you had always found it relaxing and simple. The plants offered so much to people, and all you had to do was understand how to care for them properly.

After your eventual dismissal, you rubbed the back of your neck and felt a sunburn, cursing yourself for not bringing some sort of sunscreen in your bag.

You heard an awkward cough from behind you, followed by a weak “hello”. You turned to face the noise and was a little surprised to see the tall redhead it came from.

“Hello,” you said kindly, closing your bag.

“Hi,” he repeated, and you waited for him to continue.

An awkward amount of time passed before he realized he had already said hello.

“Oh, right, um” he coughed again, clearing his throat, “well, I just wanted to introduce myself.”

He paused, holding his hand out for you to shake.

“I know who you are, George,” you replied before he had the chance, smiling at his sentiment, “we’ve gone to school together for 6 years.”

“Yeah, I just usually say it formally,” he retracted his hand after he held onto yours for what he felt was too long, “you know, with an identical brother and all.”

You nodded your head, still smiling at the nervous boy.

“Well, I wanted to ask you something,” he said, his hands gripping the leather straps of his bag nervously.

“In addition to the introduction?” you said, trying to make him less nervous.

He laughed lightly, shifting from one leg to the other.

“Yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t mind,” you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear, finding it impossible to wipe the smile off your face.

“I was wondering, since you seem so good at it, if you would help me out in Herbology?” he spoke fast, and you nearly missed what he said.

“Oh,” you were surprised by his question. He and his brother had a bit of a reputation at this school, and tutoring didn’t seem to align with it.

“I get if you can’t or something, I know you must be busy with your own studies,” he began, but you waved your hands, cutting him off.

“No, no, I don’t mind,” your smile widened as he let out a relieved breath of air, his chest deflating.

“So you’ll tutor me?” he asked, a crooked smile dawning upon his lips.

“Yeah, I don’t see why not,” you replied easily, nodding your head.

There were many reasons not to tutor George, you found later. For one, you fell in love with him. Not that you could be blamed, he was incredibly charming and adorable. The other reason was that he actually had very little interest in the plants, and his efforts seemed more geared towards you.

You had asked Professor Sprout if you and George could meet in the Herbology room every Wednesday after her classes. She was skeptical, but she trusted you and allowed you access as long as you promised to keep George in line.

This particular Wednesday seemed no different than the others, besides the growing crush you had formed on George. You waited for him at a stool by the door, a textbook open in front of you, along with your Herbology journal, a few quills, your apron, your gardening equipment, and a dying Dittany plant you planned on showing George how to save. You had been waiting for a while, but George was usually late. You had pulled some Arithmancy homework from your bag and worked on it in the meantime.

“Sorry!” George burst through the door of the greenhouse, a book falling from his fumbling hands, “Sorry, I got caught up with Fred, I’m sorry I’m late.”

More and more apologies flooded from his mouth, like they did most days, as he made his way to the stool next to you.

“It’s alright,” you put away your homework and pulled your textbook to rest on the table between the two of you.

You stood from your stool and began putting on your apron, and moved over to the cabinet with the spare aprons. You got one for George and his hands fumbled behind his back, his focus on you. He watched the side of your face as you peered into the textbook, your fingers tracing the words as you read. You lightly tapped it, pointing it out to George.

“We’ll start here,” you said, sitting back down in your stool.

Your wand hovered over a watering jug on the table, and you cast the Aguamenti charm. Water poured from your wand, filling the jug.

George watched you, nervously turning his fingers over in his lap. He glanced down, noticing the habit, and smoothed his hands over his legs. He brought his hands to his hair and raked them through the red locks, rolling his shoulders back, trying to relax in your presence. He never was able to, and he knew this, but it didn’t stop him from trying.

George couldn’t care any less than he already did about Herbology. He thought it was boring and useless. Not many of his pranks required extensive knowledge about plants, and when they did, the plants were already in use. But, when he saw you from across the room, your glasses teetering on the edge of your nose, your fingers tracing over the lettering in the textbook, hair falling into your face, and that wonderfully sweet smile etched onto your beautiful face, he had to talk to you.

It took him a week or two of staring at the back of your head before you even noticed him. The first time that beautiful smile was for him, he could only think of you for the rest of the day. Fred was tired of it, honestly, George was desperately infatuated with you. George had worked up the tutoring plan with Fred, with the promise that he wouldn’t actually study anything. “We have a reputation to uphold, Georgie!”

“Okay,” your sweet voice pulled George from his thoughts, and his eyes flickered from your face to your hands on the book, “so this is a Dittany.”

Your hands moved from the book to the dying plant. Its previously green leaves were now brown and wilting. Your fingertips moved over the delicate leaves, to the stems, and you raked your fingers through the dry dirt.

George leaned forward on the table, putting his chin to rest in his palm. He listened to you talk about the plant, describing just about everything there was to know. He wondered how you knew all of this from memory, and admired you even more than he thought possible.

You reached over the table to grab the garden scissors, but they were just out of your grasp. George leaned forwards and picked them up, turning them to you. You hadn’t retracted your hand, so when he pulled them from the table, they slid open and you felt a sharp pain on your fingertip.

You pulled your hand away and nursed it in your lap. A red stain appeared on your apron, and soon it spread as your fingertip was flowing with blood. You heard the scissors clatter on the table and George turned to you, already spouting apologies.

“Shit!” he cursed, his body turning towards you and he slouched to become eye level with you in your seat, “I’m so sorry!”

You whimpered involuntarily, bringing your finger to your mouth to suck away some of the blood. You removed your finger and wiped it on your apron, only for the blood to continue flowing.

George was panicking, he felt absolutely awful.

“Can I see it?” you looked up to see his creased brow and guilt- flooded eyes.

You swallowed hard and nodded, offering him your hand timidly.

He gently placed his hands over yours, they were so large they nearly covered them completely. His hands were warm and calloused on the palms from years of gripping his Beater bat. He brought your hand to him, holding it close to his chest as he looked at the small cut.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated, and he rubbed his thumb soothingly on our palm.

He pulled out his wand and looked at you for wordless permission, which you granted him curiously. He hovered over your finger and mumbled a spell you hadn’t heard before. The broken skin on your finger began to mend together, and the stinging had been replaced with an odd numbness. There was still the remains of blood, but George brought his apron to your finger and wiped it away. He still held your hand, looking at your face.

“How did you know that spell?” you asked, surprised when your voice came out as a whisper.

“You learn a lot when you have siblings like mine,” George responded in a whisper, looking at you sheepishly.

His hand was tightening around yours, and his palm rested against the back of your hand. You wrapped your fingers around his thumb, squeezing it lightly.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

George’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and it was so fast you had thought you might have imagined it. Your eyes moved to his lips, noticing that his bottom lip was trapped between his teeth.

“Well, it’s the least I could do,” he responded coolly, dropping your hand back into your lap and straightening his tie as if it had become too tight.

You looked down at your aprons, each stained with small drops of your blood.

“Ew,” you said, trying to wipe off the dried red stain, “Sprout will kill me!”

Pulling his wand back out, he placed it on the table.

“Here,” he moved close to you and wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened, breathing in deeply as his mouth was inches away from your ear. You felt him fumbling with the bow that tied your apron, and his hands grazed your lower back.

Soon the bow was untied, and George hovered for a moment, and he couldn’t help but smile as he smelled your wonderful perfume.

Your apron became lose and he pulled back, his hands moving to your neck as he pulled it off. He did the same with his own and laid them both on the table.

“Tergeo,” he said, pointing his wand at the aprons.

Your apron was as good as new, and so was his, all the dirt and blood removed from the cloth.

You swallowed hard, trying to push the moment of intimacy from your brain. You forced a smile at him, thanking him as you took the apron from him.

“You’re a much better student than you let on, George,” you said, holding the apron loosely in your lap.

He made a scoffing noise, but a genuine and flushed smile fell on his face.

Neither of you felt inclined to nurse a dead plant back to life, in fact, you had no idea what to do. George just stared at you, as if he were waiting for something.

“Um-” George spoke at the same time as you, and you closed your lips.

“No, you go ahead,” he said, bowing his head to you slightly.

You laughed and insisted that you weren’t going to say anything important.

“I was just going to ask if you wanted to take a walk around the grounds,” he said, already standing from his stool, “it’s awfully warm in here.”

George was right, the greenhouses seemed to be particularly warm. You thought some fresh air would be nice.

“Not very interested in the Dittany?” you teased, standing from your stool and moving to clear the table.

“Oh no!” George said nervously, hoping he didn’t offend you, “No, its wonderful-”

“I’m only teasing George, I know Herbology can be boring,” you smiled at him and laughed to yourself when you saw him visibly relax.

He was always so nervous around you, no matter how hard you tried to make him comfortable.

The two of you put away all the supplies, cleaning the table off for Professor Sprout. You had used the water left in the watering jug on any dry looking plants. George watched you going around the greenhouse, the sunshine making you seem like you were glowing. You held your hair behind your shoulder, peering into each pot.

“Alright,” you dusted your hands and tucked away your apron, “let’s go.”

George held the door open for you, and you ducked beneath his outstretched arm as you crossed the threshold. You followed his lead as he led you down a hallway.

“So you like Herbology a lot, right?” George asked you, casting a glance down at your side profile.

“Yeah, I do,” you replied.

“There’s a boy in my house, Neville, he’s great at Herbology,” George spoke fondly, his eyes turning to look out the tall windows.

“Sprout has talked about him,” you said, looking at George’s side profile, “says he’s quite talented.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” George said awkwardly, feeling quite uncertain in your presence.

“What’s your favorite class?” you asked, still trying to make some conversation.

George raked his mind, trying to decide if he should make up an answer to sound smart or be honest. He decided to be honest.

“I quite like lunch,” he said, casting a smile down at you.

You giggled, rolling your eyes playfully. He bumped his shoulder against yours, and you giggled even more.

You were eventually able to fall into a comfortable conversation, walking around the castle with ease. His hands tucked themselves into his pockets, and you crossed your arms over your chest. You eventually stopped in the courtyard, and George led you over to a bench under a large tree.

You sat close to each other, and he was painfully aware of the way your leg rubbed against his. He looked down at the spot where your skirt ended and your tights began, a lump forming in his throat. He looked at the side of your face, you seemed wonderfully content. Your eyes scanned the array of plants in front of you, looking at each of the vibrant flowers that were beginning to bloom.

“I really am sorry about your hand,” he said, partly as an excuse to pick up your hand and pretend to look at the healed cut.

Your felt tingles shoot down your arm at the unexpected touch. You looked at the hair that fell over his forehead as he peered down at your hand, holding it delicately.

“Oh, it’s alright,” you said reassuringly, “accidents happen.”

He smiled at your kindness, your eyes meeting. This time, you were sure he was looking at your lips. Your eyes danced around his face, and you felt your lips curling into a smile as he watched them.

“Would you mind if-” he croaked out, but the words seemed to be caught in his throat.

You giggled, and he dropped your hand, his head rolling back as a bought of laughter came from him. He suddenly seemed the most relaxed he had ever been.

Suddenly, when his head came to face yours again, his hands snaked up to hold your cheeks. Your eyes widened, and your smile did too. He brought your face to his, and you had realized what he was going to ask you just a second ago.

His hands were warm, and the callouses felt nice against your soft cheeks. His kiss was soft and gentle, and he waited for you to reciprocate. Your hands traveled up to wrap around his neck, and the second your fingers tangled themselves in his hair, his kiss intensified.

One of his hands traveled down to your neck, and his thumb grazed your jaw. The other slithered to your hair, and he lightly pushed your face even closer to his. Your nose pressed into his cheek and you leaned closer, your shoulder bumping into his. His tongue trailed over your bottom lip, and you sighed, opening your mouth to his.

“Ew! Get a room!”

You heard two voices shouting towards you. You pulled away, much to George’s dismay, who stayed in the same place with his eyes closed.

You looked over George’s shoulder and saw his brother and his friend.

“George,” you nudged him, casting your blushing cheeks and sheepish smile down at your lap, “I think you’re needed.”

George groaned, opening his eyes slowly. His hand was still tangled in your hair, and he slowly removed it. You felt chills as his hand raked over your neck and down your yellow tie, attempting to keep your close.

“What?” he said so poisonously, that your eyes widened.

“Keep it in your pants!” the younger redhead called out, shoving his shoulder against his friends, laughing.

“I swear to-” you heard George mumbled, already moving from his seat next to you and off to his brother.

The smaller redhead shoved his books into Harry’s chest, setting off in a run. Harry laughed loudly as George chased after his younger brother. George pulled his wand from his waistband, pointing it at Ron and easily casting a spell that bound a rope at Ron’s feet. Ron fell to the ground with a thud and George stood over him, smiling evilly.

He looked back at you, watching as you covered an entertained laugh with your hand. His face melted into pure admiration, and he abandoned Ron, leaving him tied up in the grass. George broke out in a jog, determined to hear your sweet laugh.

[rreyie]

Fight for Us

Chapter i- the reunion

summary- it’s been a long time since you’ve last seen reiner, one of your best friends from your childhood. but he’s changed. a lot.

genre- some fluff, angst, comfort/hurt

warnings- mentions of trauma, alcohol, readers feeling getting hurt, death. major spoilers for those who have not watched aot. eventual smut, not in this chapter- this is mainly just background info.

a/n- i told y’all i would be giving you a reiner fanfic for 500 followers, so i delivered and now it’s probably a series lol

For the past hour, you had been waiting at the train station for the Warriors to arrive once again. You had heard about their recent victory at Fort Slava, which everyone seemed to be giddy about. Another step towards victory.

You hadn’t seen them since you were about fourteen or fifteen, when you used to hang out with them in their free time when they weren’t training. You would all chat about who would be getting each titan and why and what the future would hold for you all.

It was always peaceful except for when Porco and Reiner had their usual clash, a few of which quickly became violent. It would usually end with Reiner having a bloody nose which you would always have to tend to, telling him to tilt his head back as you dabbed a tissue under his nose and on his clothes to wipe off the remaining blood.

Your parents lectured you each and every day about how you shouldn’t be hanging out with Eldian scum like him, that he and the others were spawns of the devil and not to be trusted around their innocent daughter. They scolded you each time you checked on them or decided to bring them bread to eat, and sent you to your room for hanging around them. They claimed it was out of love, but you knew better at this age that it wasn’t out of love- it was out of fear.

But they gave in on the day they were leaving for Paradis, and let you say goodbye one last time. You and Reiner talked for a while about how he will make his parents proud of him and save the world.

———

“So you think you can do it? You can really turn things around?”

“Of course I can!” Reiner chirped. “I’ll be a hero.”

“But you only have thirteen years, Reiner”, you warn him. “Your life is cut short now. I, I just...”

“Just what?” Reiner asks you, hazel eyes looking your way.

“I just... don’t want to lose you that early.”

You felt your cheeks start to warm, and quickly hid your face in your shirt to save yourself from the embarrassment. Reiners gaze was soft now, mouth slightly agape. You could easily see a pale pink form on his light complexion.

“You’re that worried about me?” He questioned, slightly raising his brow.

“Yeah, sure. You’re one of my best friends and I don’t want you dying early like that. It’s not fair to you”, you said, almost muttering those words.

“Y/n...” Reiner said. “I’m not just doing this for my parents. It’s for you too.”

Your eyes stop staring down at the ground and now avert to Reiner, who’s blush was deep now.

You had no clue what to say. It seemed like this comfortable silence was the best option, just sitting there trying to process your emotions.

The sun was starting to set, and Reiner had to leave at sunrise with the others. He slowly got up from the pavement of the sidewalk and brushed off his uniform pants in case any dirt got on them. You got up with him, wanting to spend every moment you possibly could with him before he left.

“I think this is goodbye, y/n. I should get some sleep before I leave in the morning”, he murmured.

“Okay. Guess I should let you sleep then”, you say. “Just...promise me you’ll come back alive. Fight for us, Reiner.”

Reiners expression turned warm, a smile curling on his rosy lips. “I will. I’ll come back, I promise.”

You both knew what was coming next. Reiner put his hands out for you and pulled you in close, your lips landing on his. You put a hand on his cheek, rubbing at his skin as both of your lips clashed against each other. It wasn’t a rough kiss, but not timid either. It was somewhere perfectly in the middle. Something you both were going to need to remind you of each other.

———

Now the time had finally come to meet eyes with him again. This was the last thing you thought about before the train came rolling in, coughing big clouds of black steam as it entered the station. Cheers could be heard from the crowd on the platform as passengers from inside waved to their families, likely for the first time in years.

You jostled through the crowd once the train came to a stop and started to unload its contents. Soldiers ran to embrace their mothers, fathers, siblings and spouses, some reunions making tears fall from their cheeks. This was the most happiness you had seen in a while.

Nearby, a short brunette girl quite literally flung herself out of the train, shouting into the air about how happy she was to be home. A man with slicked back hair had a rosy-cheeked blonde, clearly intoxicated, slung around his shoulder. For a moment you thought it was Reiner, but you thought otherwise when you continued to observe his features.

“Reiner! I’m so glad you’re home!”

You heard what sounded to be an old woman talking in another direction, the mention of his name making your head instantly turn towards where it was coming from. A woman with short blonde-grey hair was hugging a much taller man, with pale skin, hollow cheeks and noticeable dark circles under his eyes.

No fucking way that’s him, you thought to yourself. The solemn expression on his face did not match what you last saw, the old Reiner you used to know. What the hell had happened while he was in Paradis? Did the island devils get to him?

You gulp and decide to go and see for sure if this was really Reiner. Pushing through the dense crowd again, you walk the direction of the familiar voices.

Once you finally get a clearer glimpse of the old woman and who you assumed to be Reiner, you came to the conclusion that this was in fact him- just a tired, potentially malnourished version of him.

“Reiner!” You call. His head spun around, eyes widening when he saw your figure running towards him. You swore you could see a tiny smile form on his face, a contrast to his exhausted features.

You run into his chest, and wrap your arms around his buff figure. But for some reason, you don’t feel his arms hug you back. It felt strange, but you were going to take what you could get.

“Y/n?” Reiner asked, making you tilt your face up to confirm that it was you. “Oh fuck, I missed you, how are you?”

“Language, Reiner”, the old woman scolded. You could recognize her now, it was his mother- Karina Braun.

“Excuse me mother”, he said. “But really, how have you been?”

“I’m okay, but shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” You question him. “You’ve been at war for years.”

“Yeah, sure”, he responds. “Just tired.”

You pull away, and see Karina starting to smile, making her dimples appear on her cheeks. “This must be y/n, the girl you wouldn’t stay quiet about when you were little!” She exclaimed.

Reiner scoffed. “Not the time, mother. And I didn’t talk about her that much.”

The dispute between them made you giggle. Karina sighed, slightly exaggerated.

“If you like, you can come over for dinner tonight”, she offers. “I’m making beef stew and my sister and her family will be over to talk about what happened. Her daughter is a warrior candidate too, so I bet Reiner and her would have some interesting stories to tell.”

“Sounds wonderful!”, you say. “I’ll be over whenever.”

“Is seven alright for you?”

“Yes, that’s alright”, you reply. “In that case, I’ll see you two tonight!”

Karina beamed and nodded. Reiner was clearly starting to get bored of the conversation, observing some of the architecture of the station. It looked like he was in his own world, telling from the foreign look in his eyes. They didn’t seem as bright as they used to.

“I should go. I need to run some errands for my family before tonight, but I’ll be over! See you two later!”

“Goodbye, y/n!” Karina yelled as you waved and began to walk away. For some reason, Reiner did not say anything to you before you left, which you found strange. You chose to not question it out of being polite, he may still be adjusting to being back in Marley.

A couple hours had passed since you left the train station. You went to the market to negotiate the high prices of nectarines and plums, to the bank to cash a few checks, and back to your parents house to drop off groceries and a little bit of spare cash to buy toiletries for the week.

But Reiner didn’t leave your mind while you were doing all of this. You were almost scared to ask what happened to the others who went on the mission, in fear of the truth. Perhaps minding your own business was the best thing to do right now.

You walked into the Braun household at exactly 6:55, a smile on your face. Karina hurriedly walked to the door to greet you, a bubbling sound in the distance along with the scent of meat, garlic and rosemary.

“Welcome, welcome!” Karina chimed. “I’ll take your coat, it’s rather warm in here.”

“Thank you”, you say. “It smells delightful in here!”

“That would be the signature Braun family stew”, she said. “My sister is tending to the stew. Reiner and Gabi are in here waiting for you.”

You walked though the hall that connected to the dining room and small kitchen, where the smell was coming from. Reiner and Gabi sat at the table along with a middle aged man, who was Gabis father.

“Is this her?” The man asked. “Nice to meet you, y/n. This is my daughter Gabi, and I bet you know Reiner. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Gabi gave you a toothy smile, while Reiner just looked down staring at his empty bowl.

“Sit down, Reiner and Gabi are about to tell out about their experiences”, he said and pulled out a chair.

The other woman in the kitchen brought in a steaming pot of a red stew, chunks of meat, carrots and celery floating around in the thick broth. She dished you some, then gave some to the others.

Gabi seemed to talk for hours about how she single-handedly took out the rest of the Allied Forces from a grenade she constructed, Reiner not saying anything and only staring at the stew, occasionally poking the contents.

“It was amazing!” Gabi said. “After this it’s just those island demons!”

“Speaking of”, her father said. “Reiner, how was your stay in Paradis?”

“Dad, you shouldn’t ask that stuff!” Gabi yelled. “Most of it is probably classified anyways!”

“You’re right, Gabi”, he sighed. “Reiner, forgive your uncle.”

“Actually”, he began. “Not all of it is a secret. There was this girl who had the courage to eat a potato at the opening ceremony... what was her name again? Sasha Braus? Yep, that sounds about right...”

“That’s wonderful, but I mean the battle. Did they find out? About you know... the titan thing?”

The slight smile on Reiners face soon disappeared and turned into one of terror, his pupils getting small and eyebrows furrowing slightly.

Gabi elbowed her father. Karina flashed a nervous look to her sister, and you looked back to her for guidance.

“Reiner, are you okay?” She asked.

“Y-yeah, just need to step outside. I think the air is getting to m-me”.” He quickly got up and left his seat and hurried out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

You all sat in silence, growing uncomfortable by the second.

You weren’t hungry now.

———

After failing to make conversation due to the recent events, you get up and excuse yourself, only after putting your bowl in your sink and thanking them for dinner. Gabi promised she would tell you more about her adventures before you headed out the door.

The Braun’s had a small porch on the house, and you assumed that Reiner would be sitting there when you came out. But you were shocked to find him nowhere to be found. You told Karina that you would look around for him, and left the house.

You were out for two hours looking for him. The night was starting to become darker, stars twinkling above you and shining down on this messed up world you were a part of.

But after hours of searching and worrying that you may not see him again, you found him on a bench outside of a pub in Liberio.

“Hey, Reiner!” You yell to him. His reaction wasn’t as sudden as the last time you called his name at the train station. Instead, his head was hanging low and slowly lifted up, his eyes reminding you of a stray dog.

You walked towards him, and stood in front of him once you felt that he noticed your presence.

“Your mom is scared, she doesn’t know where you ran off to”, you lecture him. “You should really come back home-“

“I’m not coming back home tonight, y/n.”

“Huh?” You ask him. “Reiner, it’s almost midnight. I’ll take you home if you need someone to walk you home.”

“Stop worrying about me. I’m staying here for the night, gonna have a few beers. Just... go away.”

These words take you by surprise. You can feel your throat tighten, and you try and swallow the feeling down so you wouldn’t have to deal with it right now. You couldn’t cry, not with him in front of you like this.

“I said fuck off. What do you not get about that?” His gruff voice growled. There was hostility in his expression, like you had never known him, or even worse- he was your enemy.

“O-ok, I’ll be going now”, your say as your voice cracked. You did your best to stifle your tears but you couldn’t stop them from collecting at your lash line. “Um, have a good night, Reiner.”

Swiftly, you get up from the bench and head in the direction of home, where you would probably spend the incoming day crying in embarrassment for making Reiner pissed. This was the exact last thing you wanted to do, make him feel uncomfortable to the point where he was pushing you away.

You stopped at a nearby lamppost to collect your thoughts, slumping against the cold pole and letting a few tears trickle down your cheeks. You grab a tissue from your pocket, and try to soak up your salty tears. You felt like absolute and utter shit.

A few footsteps are heard in the distance, and you are quick to reach in your other pocket and pull out a small pocketknife. After all, Liberio after dark wasn’t a safe place for a woman to be. Especially in this lighting.

“Who’s there?” You ask. “Show yourself or I’m drawing my knife.”

“Calm yourself, y/n.”

The familiar deep voice came closer to where you were standing, and a tall figure showed itself in the shadows. The red armband was crimson in the faded yellow light from the lamp, the man wearing a beige uniform.

“Reiner?” You ask, hoping for an answer. “Is that you?”

“I followed you back. I’m sorry for yelling at you”, he grumbled, and scratched the back of his head. “It’s about time I told you what happened.”

You nod, and sit on the curbside of the dimly lit street. He came and sat with you, just like you two did when you were young.

“So are they like people say?” You ask. “You know, the whole devil thing.”

Reiner shrugs. “They’re not evil. But they’re not good people either. It’s... hard to describe.”

“I understand.”

“You do?”

“Well, that’s a stretch”, you say. “I don’t, but I know how you feel. Um, I know you probably don’t want me asking but... what happened to the rest of the people who went with you? Marcel? Bertholdt? Annie?”

Reiner puts a hand to his face and shakes his head.

“Marcel died first. Bertholdt died a year ago I think. His titan was passed down to some blonde boy with a bowl cut in Paradis. And Annie, god who knows where she is? I’m not sure if she’s alive or dead.”

This information was something you were struggling to process. Marcel was a quick thinker, how could he not survive? And Bertholdt- he had what may have been the strongest titan, and who would want to kill his poor gentle soul? Annie though, you still had a bit of hope for.

“Before he died”, Reiner began. “Marcel told me I wasn’t meant to become the Armored. It was supposed to be Porco, but he interfered to protect him. I’m seeing what he means by I wasn’t meant to do this.”

“Don’t say that”, you order him, but not in a pushy tone. More like a gentle one. “If you’ve made it back alive, that’s enough for me.”

“What would you have done if I died?”

“I wouldn’t know”, you say. “I don’t think I want to even think about that.”

He nods. Death was too familiar to him now, it had almost become his friend now. It wasn’t an uncommon thing to see nowadays.

“And you kept that promise to me”, you utter. “You came back in one piece. I’m proud. This entire country is too.”

Reiner doesn’t look to you. Instead he gives a hum of approval, indicating that he heard you. You could see his chiseled features in the moonlight shining down on him to create a perfect shadow. God he was beautiful, he always was.

[beatricethecat2]

"Chill for a minute! You're making me nervous," Myka says.

"I'll not miss the performance because of a third-rate watchman," Helena huffs.

"Abigail said she'd sort this out."

"Abigail got us into this."

"She didn't slug him."

"He tackled me."

"You grabbed the book and ran."

"And I'd have succeeded were it not for that wandering child," Helena gruffs. "Who brings a child to theater?"

"You wouldn't have brought Christina?"

"Were she old enough and properly dressed, yes. That child was in dungarees."

"They probably came to see the exhibition not the matinee—"

"We're not dressed properly either," Helena grumbles, swiping dirt off a pant leg.

"Theater's not as formal as it used to be. And you did put your hair up," Myka says, flashing a feeble smile.

"And now it's mussed. It wasn't much to look at to begin with." Helena fusses with her bun.

"Hey, I think you look really nice," Myka says, reaching over, stilling Helena's hands.

"This is hardly theater attire."

"It's the Oregon Shakespeare Festival not the Met Opera."

"Attending the theater used to mean something." Helena's hands drop to her lap.

"It still does, but not corsets and gowns." Myka raises a brow. "Would you have worn a dress if this was a real date?"

"I very well may have. I'd certainly have made more of an effort."

"A nineteenth or twenty-first century effort?

"May I not embody both?"

"Yeah, but I'm just noticing you sort of default to the nineteenth when you're around me."

"And you disapprove."

"No. It think it's kind of sweet. I like that you don't have to hide who you are with me." Myka bumps her shoulder into Helena's.

"And to think, I once yearned to live in a future such as this. I'd no clue how exhausting it'd be being out of time."

"It'll get easier," Myka says, meeting Helena's unsure gaze. She leans towards Helena and Helena follows suit, their lips nearly touching when a door slamming in the distance halts the action.

"So, um...when's the last time you saw Shakespeare?" Myka asks, recomposing herself.

Helena thinks back. "Hamlet, in Stratford; Sarah Bernhardt as lead. We'd travelled specifically to see her, as it was unusual for a woman to play a male's part. She was her bombastic self, but watching Shakespeare translated into French was odd. I may have opinions about the American accent as well."

"Oh you will."

"Flipping through those gravures on display really took me back. Then the cabinet cards...are you familiar with those actors?"

"No."

"Such a shame," Helena says, pushing up from her slouch to sit upright.  "Ellen Terry, she who worked so very hard to elevate the acting profession for women and men; Lillie Langtree, the beauty who pulled her reputation up from the mud through her craft; Violet Vanbrugh, locked in competition with her sister for the spotlight...celebrities, one and all, yet seeing them now, they feel like lost friends." 

Helena sighs deeply and looks away. "When I snatched the book, my mind was no longer present. Hence the guard getting a jump on me."

"It's going to work out," Myka says, flashing a comforting smile.

"How exactly is Abigail remedying this? I heard little of your hushed conversation earlier," Helena says, narrowing her eyes at Myka.

"She's convincing them to put it back so we can swap it with a copy she's sending."

"Could she not have done so previously?"

"With Artie out of town, she's scrambling to keep up."

"How exactly is she convincing them?"

"She's, um..." Myka looks down at her lap and adjusts her wrist watch. "Do you actually need to know?"

"I do now," Helena says, swerving in her seat to face Myka.

"She's posing as your therapist."

"And I'm a babbling idiot."

"No...our pitch is you're obsessed with Victoriana."

"Convenient," Helena grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Do you want to see the play or not?"

"What do you think?"

"I think we wouldn't be here at all if Abigail hadn't asked us to snag volume nine of 'The Illustrated Library of Shakespeare.' And I think she'll fix this for now so we can see a play like two normal people who see plays. We'll worry about the book tomorrow."

Helena's scowl stays firmly in place.

"I'll make it up to you tonight at the hotel," Myka says, eyes pleading.

"Placating me for performing the Warehouse's bidding is not in the least desirable—"

"Ooh, look, he's coming out," Myka says, patting Helena's leg as she rises to talk to the head of security. "Stay here."

Helena stays put but her scowl grows all consuming.

-END SCENE-

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

Bering and Wells: Field Trip ("Warehouse 13" Season 5 replacement) Season 1: Episode 7 Title: Oregon: To one thing constant never

Summary: With Warehouse staff stretched thin, Myka and Helena are asked to dash from Myka's parents to The Oregon Shakespeare Festival. The pickup hits a snag when Helena, lost in memories, bungles the retrieval. Emotions run high when Helena reveals an unshakable impulse that threatens their newfound bliss.

Previously: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6

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

BONUS SCENE

The next day, in the parking in the lot of the festival, freshly off the phone from the Warehouse, Myka turns to Helena.

"Artie's booking us a flight. He wants us to bring the book in person—"

"We are not altering our plans again," Helena sneers. "He can pick it up from us."

"I think he needs it sooner," Myka mumbles. "It'll be quick, just a day or two. Maybe we can push our bookings up?"

"As if that's worked in the past."

"True," Myka says, shoulders slumping as she sighs defeatedly. "Then we'll skip Mendocino and head straight to San Francisco from there. I'll grab some of my stuff since we might stay in the city longer." She turns the key, revving the car to life.

"I'll drive to Mendocino and meet you in San Francisco. You go on to the Warehouse."

"But Artie said you can come," Myka explains, looking over her shoulder, backing out of their parking spot. She puts the car in drive and moves towards the exit.

"There's no reason for me to do so."

"But you haven't met Abigail. Or Steve, really. Plus Claudia's dying to see you—"

"Myka, I can't."

Myka steps on the brake and turns to face Helena. "Is this a Regent thing? Because Artie wouldn't have said you could come if you couldn't."

"It's not a Regent thing."

"Then what?" Myka huffs.

"We've not time to discuss this now."

"Then tell me the abbreviated version."

A honk from behind jolts them both.

"Alright, alright!" Myka grumbles, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"You go on. I'll follow our plan," Helena says. "I wish to feel the land shifting underfoot, as if Elizabeth, Christina, and I had made our way through California in my own day."

"Wouldn't that have been on a train? Or a carriage maybe?" Myka asks.

"Is a car not the modern equivalent?"

"I guess," Myka says, her face the picture of concern. "You know, most of San Francisco was destroyed in the 1906 earthquake. There's not much left from back then."

"No matter. It's the spirit in which it's encountered."

"Then I want to 'encounter' it with you."

"Then have them pick the book up from us. You're not obligated to obey their every beck and call."

"I guess not," Myka says, frowning as she stops at a red light.

"Their prerogative led us to rush here, waylaying our plans," Helena presses.

"And the plays."

"Which we may have seen, in our own time, had we not been browbeaten into a retrieval—"

"We weren't browbeaten, we were helping Abigail—"

"The light's green."

"I see that," Myka grumps, the car jerking forward as she presses on the gas too hard. "So that's why you won't come with me? You're mad we came here in the first place?"

"It more than that. My relationship with the Warehouse must remain distant. Better if I retain none at all."

"How exactly is that going to work? Because I live there."

"I'd rather not discuss this while you're driving."

"Then I'll stop." Myka flips her turn signal and veers left at an intersection. She swings into a parking lot turns off the engine. "You said I'm your One. That we're partners."

"You are both of those things to me."

"But you can't come to the Warehouse, maybe ever? Explain." Myka shifts in her seat to face Helena as fully as possible.

"I've come to understand distance may be the only remedy for certain...triggers."

"What triggers?"

"Where to start?"

"Anywhere, really," Myka gruffs, holding onto Helena's petulant gaze.

"A hundred years in bronze weighs heavy on one's soul."

"You were fine there before."

"Was I?"

"You said it was your tether!"

"I'd have said anything to—"

"Gain access, dupe everyone, and destroy the world. I know." Myka scowls. "But you wouldn't do that again."

"That's no longer my vice," Helena says.

"Then what is?"

Helena looks off into the distance. "A secondary plan, utilizing artifacts catalogued since my bronzing."

"W-What kind of plan?" Myka says, her back straightening.

"One in which Christina would be returned to me."

"Wait, you tried again when you were there?"

"How could I not?" Helena laments. "I've hatched countless schemes since."

"But you said you'd made peace with not having kids."

"Moving forward. But I may never find true peace with Christina's passing. Apparently, it's not uncommon."

"How do you know?"

"At the precinct, after particularly gruesome cases, they conducted psychological evaluations. I'd breezed through most, but one in particular, concerning the death of a little girl, was difficult to shake."

"Oh, Helena." Myka scoots forward and takes hold of Helena's hand. "What happened?"

"I recounted my story, albeit heavily modified, and learned about triggers. Avoiding them entirely was an acceptable solution, so the Warehouse...but you? You were a conundrum."

"I was a trigger, too." Myka slips her hand from Helena's but Helena grabs it back.

"You remained a symbol of hope, of all that was good in this world. I ached to be near you but feared disappointing you again. When you turned up in Montreal, I was drumming up the courage to approach you."

"But you weren't there yet."

"I wasn't," Helena says, squeezing Myka's hand. "Asking you to separate yourself from your home, from your calling, was difficult to justify. But after hearing of your illness, nothing else mattered but being by your side."

Helena cups Myka's jaw and strokes her cheek with a thumb. "But I must protect myself, and you, from those demons."

Helena shifts closer and guides their lips together. Their kiss lingers until Myka's phone rings.

"Artie," Myka says, answering in an instant. "We can't come. We'll keep the the book safe until someone can pick it up—"

Myka moves the phone away from her ear at Arties loud volume.

"Ok, ok! But H.G.'s not coming. Put me on a flight."

Myka places her hand over the microphone and glances at Helena. "He said Mrs. Frederic's there and 'needs it yesterday'—"

She's interrupted by Artie chiming in.

"I'm not taking a flight with two connections because it leaves tonight! Put me on a red eye."

Grumbling emanates from the other side of the phone.

"Five-thirty's fine. Send me the details."

More grumbling, then silence. Myka hangs up the phone.

"Artie seems his usual congenial self—"

"I'm really proud of you," Myka blurts, turning to face Helena again.

"Whatever for?" Helena asks, head tilting, brow furrowing.

"For fighting your demons on your own. Though I wish we'd been doing it together."

"From now on, we shall," Helena says, meeting Myka halfway as she leans in for another kiss.

Hands reach across the console, twining in hair, groping at necks, arms, shoulders, as if the space between them is too great.

Minutes later, a tap on the window jerks them apart.

"Ma'ams, bank won't open again until 9AM," a man says as Helena rolls down the window. "I'm going to have to ask to come back tomorrow."

"Bank?" Myka croaks, scanning the parking lot, eyes locking on a glowing sign at its entrance. "Oh, bank."

"Terribly sorry officer. We pulled over to take a call before becoming...distracted," Helena explains.

"Just a security guard, ma'am. But I'd appreciate it if you move on. I didn't want to disturb you but my manager's going to wonder why you were here so long."

"Nothing nefarious, I assure you. We'd have been stealthier were anything afoot," Helena says with a wink.

"Helena!"

"Just reassuring the boy."

"We didn't mean to....we were just..." Myka stumbles over a more direct explanation.

"We've been granted one more night together before our separation."

"But we do have a hotel room."

"And mere hours before I'm to deliver you to the airport."

"True." Myka's lips push together, her face contorting into one of a new understanding. "Not enough hours. We should go."

"Thank you again for accommodating us," Helena says to the security guard.

"Um, sure?" he says as Helena rolls up the window.

"We'll make this work," Myka says, slipping a hand over Helena's thigh as she drives away. "I know we can."

"I adore your enthusiasm," Helena says, covering Myka's hand with her own, threading their fingers together.

-END-

-TBC-

NOTES: A quick reminder - this Christina is the daughter of Helena's original "One" back in the 1800's - Elizabeth. I think that story is in the second installment of this series. Also note this text probably pretty rough as I'm out of town and have sporadic internet (remember DSL?) and so haven't been able to use my usual text checkers (let me know if anything's super bad!) I'm putting it up now so I won't fuss over it as I'd like to not fuss over *anything* this week. Also, the first manip is one of my favorites - there's only one I can think of that tops it, but it's not public yet (I think you'll know when you see it.) Anyway, here are some of the people HG mentioned. And here are some of the amazing panoramas of the SF earthquake. Also Sarah Bernhardt - look her up, she was *quite* the character.

[liesyousoldme]

Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier Fic Masterlist

Completed:

Richie Tozier: Come Out & Play (Oneshot, Rated M)

Richie Tozier: Come Out & Play, a new Netflix special! Comedian Richie Tozier is back after a very public mental breakdown. And he's ready to (over)share. (5.7k words)

baby i didn't know, but i'm glad that you found me (Series, Rated E)

1. i've been waiting

Eddie loses touch with the Losers after he's forced to move away from Derry. After 5 years, he finds a way to see his friends again - including Richie, who is just as beautiful as he remembers. (15k words)

2. i'm seeing the most in your eyes

Eddie comes out to his mom, visits with an old friend, applies for a job, and finds his home. (14k words)

we'll get where we're going even if we're late (Oneshot, Rated E)

Richie sees a lot happen in the deadlights. Eddie has to keep reminding him what's real. (7.8k words)

the time and space between us (Oneshot, Rated T)

For Eddie Kaspbrak, dying was just like falling asleep. And then he woke up. (10.7k words)

The Power of Sexting (Oneshot, Rated E)

Richie accidentally sends Eddie a shirtless picture. Things escalate from there. Or, Richie and Eddie play Gay Chicken: Sexting Edition. (4k words)

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? (Chaptered, Rated E)

They'd been so close to everything they ever wanted when they were young. And then they forgot. Now that they're back in Derry, they're remembering. Or, a retelling of Chapter 2, with a happier ending. (36k words)

(Continued Under The Cut)

That's where you'll find me (Series, Rated T)

1. In The Wrong Place Trying to Make it Right

"Richie wasn’t sure how the fuck he’d managed to forget Eddie Kaspbrak. Like, now that he’s got Eddie’s hand in his (his remaining hand, Richie’s traitorous mind reminds him cruelly, and he avoids looking at the hospital gown lying flat against the bed where an arm should be) he remembers everything. " Or, 27 years later, Eddie makes it out of the sewers alive. (5.5k words)

2. Got My Heart Set On Anywhere But Here

“Let’s make it a rule to never talk about It again,” Richie suggested, and Eddie readily agreed. “Let’s focus on the future instead of the past.” “Like visiting New York next week?” Or, 27 years later, Eddie gets divorced. (4.9k words)

3. I'll Be What You Need (Goodbye, Apathy)

"Helping you through nightmares of me dying is the least I can do after you literally nursed me back to health for six weeks," Eddie responded with a tired smile. Richie didn't say anything, just let his head fall back into his pillow, pulling Eddie with him. Eddie sighed as he nestled into Richie's bed. Richie felt his heart beat faster the way it always did when Eddie was in his bedroom, in his bed, in his arms. The small smile that had formed on his face fell, however, when Eddie spoke again. "I think you should see a therapist." Or, 27 years later, Richie goes to therapy. (4.6k words)

Block the Noise, (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie has a conversation with his newly ex-manager and Eddie doesn't like what he (over)hears. (1.5k words)

i've never seen nobody shine the way you do (Oneshot, Rated T)

It was like this: Richie had thought that moving to New York together, getting an apartment and going to school, would be good for both of them. And it was! But! While Richie had thought that he had reached his limit, his max capacity, the top level of Loving Eddie Kaspbrak, he was now being proven dead wrong. Perhaps there was no cap to how much a man could love Eddie Kaspbrak, and wouldn’t that have been nice to know before he’d gone and moved in with the little asshole. Because it was one thing to see each other every day at school, and to have sleepovers on Friday nights, and to spend their afternoons together doing fuck-all, but it was another to see Eddie fresh from the shower, his wavy hair dripping water droplets onto his bare shoulders, his skin flushed from the heat. It was another to wake up and eat breakfast together every morning and dinner together almost every night. Especially since Eddie had decided to start looking like he did now, all bright-eyed and ready to take on the world. So, it was like this: living with Eddie had him absolutely fucked. (2.6k words)

just hold me close (Oneshot, Rated T)

It's Richie Tozier's birthday, and Eddie Kaspbrak would do anything to make him happy. (1.7k words)

say anything (Oneshot, Rated T)

There were so many things he wanted to say to Richie, all the time, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t put himself out there, couldn’t risk ruining this friendship. But it was getting harder and harder with every day that passed to keep his mouth shut. (4.6k words)

you heard them say it (Oneshot, Rated T)

Even after she's 6 feet in the ground, Sonia Kaspbrak still lives in Eddie Kaspbrak's head. (2.5k words)

Misinterpretation (Oneshot, Rated T)

A prompt from Tumblr: "I'm only here to establish an alibi." (1.7k words)

let's find the place where happiness begins (Oneshot, Rated T)

After Eddie survives Neibolt, he and Richie have a few things to discuss. (3k words)

make it feel like the first time (Oneshot, Rated T)

“Eddie,” Beverly said, grinning. Eddie felt his heartrate speed up and focused on taking a deep breath. He was 17, he hadn’t carried around his aspirator in ages, and he wasn’t about to have a panic attack in front of his friends over a stupid party game. “Truth or dare?” Eddie gets asked about his first kiss. Too bad he lied about the fact that he's had one. (2.7k words)

keep you sheltered (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie has a fear of thunderstorms. (1.6k words)

so into you (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie is tired of Eddie watching from a distance. (1.7k words)

Like Kisses on the Necks of Best Friends (Oneshot, Rated T)

He’d wanted to kiss Richie for ages, and suddenly, on their walk home from school Richie just fuckin’… plants one on him, blushes beet red, uses a Voice to say “Good on ya, mate,” which didn’t even make fucking sense, and then takes off running in the opposite direction. Eddie had stood there, gaping, until Richie was an entire block away. Or, Eddie has to sit on Richie's lap for a car ride two days after Richie kissed him and ran away. It's totally not awkward at all. (2.2k words)

now my bedsheets smell like you (Oneshot, Rated T)

Richie and Eddie can't sleep without each other. (3k words)

You're only brave in the moonlight (Oneshot, Rated T)

A homophobic church sign makes Eddie cry, and Richie decides to do something about it. (2.3k words)

WIP:

once in twenty lifetimes (Twoshot, Rated T)

Eddie Kaspbrak had to say goodbye to his best friend at age 13. He wished desperately to live in some other universe where Richie never had to leave. He can imagine them. Happy together in other, better worlds. 27 years later, Eddie Kaspbrak gets to say hello to his best friend at age 40. Maybe he decides this universe was worth the wait.

isn't it just so pretty to think... (Series, Rated T)

...all along there was some invisible string tying you to me First kisses at every age in every universe.

a supercut of us (Drabble Collection, Rated T-E)

[pipes-loves-writing]

second fic I’ve posted! I’m so sorry for being so inactive… with no new content I’m feeling very unmotivated. Thanks for everyone who stuck around and support me! I’m here if you ever need to talk. I love you all! :)

There is absolutely no problem with Seb and Carlos working together.

Nope.

No problem at all.

Oh, except for the fact that Seb has been in love with Carlos since before he even met him.

But that’s not important.

Not at all.

He didn’t mean to fall in love with Carlos, truly he didn’t. But, honestly, how couldn’t you?

Mr. Cilli clapped his hands together rhythmically. “Alright everyone, today we’ll be ending our civil war unit. We’re going to be doing a project, it being the end of the year and all. You will work with a partner to create a fake episode of a tv show based around the idea of the civil war. Any questions?”

`Natalie Bagley shot her hand into the air. “Will we get to pick our partners?”

“Unfortunately not. You’ll work with whoever is sitting next to you.”

Seb turned his head to the side and realized that no one was sitting next to him. How had he not noticed that earlier?

Carlos Rodriguez came running through the history door and dropped a few pieces of paper and pencils.

Every other group had started working on the project already. No one even noticed that Carlos was here.

Well, almost no one.

“Mr. Rodriguez, that’s the third time this week. Next time I have to write you a detention slip.”

“I’m sorry! It won’t happen again!”

Seb’s legs started moving before his mind did, and before he noticed, he had gotten up to help Carlos.

“Here. You dropped a few things.” Seb handed Carlos a pencil from the ground.

“Thank you,” Carlos paused for a second before saying, “Pencils, you know? They’re slippery.”

Seb smiled at Carlos. “Yeah, I guess.”

Carlos quickly nodded and went to sit down in the chair next to Seb’s.

Mr. Cilli scribbled something down in his notebook and said, “Carlos, I assume that means you and Seb are working together.”

Seb’s eyes widened. Carlos? Working with him? He had to stop himself from smiling too wide.

“I mean,” Carlos started, “is that okay? With you I mean?”

Seb allowed himself to smile. “Yeah that’d be great.”

Carlos took a notebook out of his backpack and set it in front of him. “I’m Carlos. By the way.”

Seb smiled a little wider. “Oh I know. I’m Seb!”

“You.. know?” Seb couldn’t entirely read Carlos’s expression.

Seb widened his eyes. “I meant,” he searched his mind for an excuse, “I know your name. Like the name Carlos. It’s a- it’s a pretty name.” Well played. That didn’t sound too creepy. Probably.

Carlos looked almost flattered? Seb still couldn’t entirely understand. He could definitely understand the blush running to his face right now though.

“Thank you.” Carlos hesitated for a moment. “You have a pretty name too.”

Seb finally broke free from eye contact. Wow. Carlos had really pretty eyes. They were almost… distracting?

“But also,” Seb started, “I’ve seen you on the color guard. You’re really good!”

Carlos didn’t answer for a moment. “You really think so?”

Seb was surprised that Carlos would doubt his talent even for a second. “I know so. My older sister was the captain of the color guard before you, and she’s very impressed with their new leader.”

Carlos furrowed his eyebrows. Then he lightly gasped. “Your sister is Georgie Matthew-Smith?”

Seb thought Carlos looked like a lost puppy when he looked confused. It was so cute, that he almost forgot to answer the question. “The one and only! I’m not as talented in the dance department though.”

Carlos laughed, “Maybe you’ve just never had the right teacher.”

Seb just hummed in response. “So what are we thinking for this tv episode project?”

“Hmm.” Carlos thought for a moment. Then he gasped, “We should do something similar to a Glee episode! Like maybe they have to do a week where they have to sing songs that talk about the civil war? Or something similar to that?” He looked over at Seb, who was looking at him in a way he couldn’t exactly place. Carlos blushed and looked away. “Sorry. I was just being a gleek. Please ignore the last 30 seconds of your life.”

“I love glee. It’s my favorite show.”

Carlos smiled wider.

“That’s a great idea, Carlos. Let’s do it.”

..

The next day, Seb walked into the classroom with a smile on his face. He had spent his entire class time with Carlos yesterday, and he couldn’t be happier about it. Sure, they were both a little awkward, but Seb found it almost endearing.

Carlos ran into the classroom again and put his papers on the desk next to Seb. The bell rang and Carlos texted something to someone. Seb got a glimpse of his wallpaper before he closed his phone.

“Hey. I like your wallpaper on your phone!”

Carlos looked at him. “You like Broadway?”

Seb scoffed, “Are you kidding? Who doesn’t?”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “You’d be surprised to know how many people did ‘Brigadoon’ and didn’t actually care for theatre.”

Seb pretended to look surprised, “You were in ‘Brigadoon’?” Of course he knew that Carlos was in this year’s spring show. He had been dying for a chance to have just one scene with him so they could talk.

“Yeah! I was ensemble.”

Seb smiled and said, “I was ensemble too! And I totally agree. If you don’t like theatre, why do the shows?”

Carlos smiled. “I didn’t even want to be in the show either. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I love performing. But,” he trailed off for a second. “I actually wanted to be choreographer.” Carlos squeezed his eyes shut, fully prepared for Seb to start laughing.

“And they didn’t let you be one? That’s awful. You’re the best dancer in this school. In this city even! Anyone would be crazy not to make you a choreographer.”

Carlos looked at Seb for a second. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted.

“Okay everyone! You did some brainstorming yesterday. Today you’ll start the slideshow for the project. Then tomorrow we’ll present to the class.”

Carlos finally broke eye contact with Seb and looked down at his paper.

“So? What about you?” Carlos asked subtly.

Seb raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

“Do you have a dream role?”

Seb hesitated. “Don’t laugh.”

“Seb. I’m not going to laugh at you.”

Seb looked up at Carlos. “Sharpay,” he says quietly.

“Sharpay? Like from High School Musical?”

Seb couldn’t look at Carlos. He was too scared to see his reaction. Would he change his mind and laugh at Seb?

“Wow. You’d be great as Sharpay!”

Seb listened for sarcasm, but he didn’t seem to hear any. He looked at Carlos.

Seb didn’t really know what to say, so he just blushed and hoped Carlos didn’t notice.

Carlos was too busy blushing to notice the other boy’s red face.

…

Today was the big presentation day. Seb was a little nervous, but he was a performer! He could do anything.

Mostly anything that is.

“Okay,” Mr. Cilli announced, “Today is presentation day! I’ll give you guys 10 minutes to review, and then we’ll start with Natalie and Kaden, Ashlyn and Steph, Seb and Carlos,” the teacher went on and on about the order of groups presenting, but Seb had been distracted. Carlos still wasn’t in class. He wouldn’t ditch on the day of presenting.

Right?

Seb took out his phone and texted Carlos.

‘Hey is everything okay?’ He sent the message and waited for a response. He checked his phone after two minutes. No response.

Seb shot up his hand and asked to go to the bathroom.

He ran out the door and speed-walked down the hall.

When he threw open the bathroom door, he saw Carlos pacing back and forth across the small space. He looked so panicked, it made Seb kind of want to cry.

Carlos heard Seb open the door and looked over at him. Seb’s eyes were filled with so much worry and another emotion Carlos couldn’t quite put his finger on.

Carlos stopped against the wall and slid down to sit. He could feel his breathing getting faster, and he tried to slow it down.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Seb said in a hushed voice. He walked over next to him. “What’s wrong ‘Los? Why are you pacing?”

Carlos threw his head back. He was so scared that he didn’t comment on the cute nickname. “I’m scared, Seb. The last thing I read in front of people was a report in February. And it was a group project with four people. I barely had to talk.”

Carlos’s hands were fidgeting so much that Seb reached over and grabbed both of them with his own.

Carlos was so nervous that he barely noticed.

Okay, that was a complete lie.

Seb’s hands holding Carlos’s and his pretty blue eyes made Carlos forget all his worries. Seb’s hands were warm and soft. You would think they’d be rough from all the farm work, but they weren’t for some reason. Carlos would have to ask him about them one day.

“That’s not true Carlos. You memorized all the songs in Brigadoon in under a week. You were the first one in the cast who was off book.” Seb thought for a moment. “Just imagine it being a performance. You’re really good at those.”

Carlos looks at Seb. But this time, he really looks at him.

Seb has a bit of acne. His eyes are a little darker blue than he’d noticed before. His hands are a little sweaty. And his hair is messed up a little.

And honestly?

Carlos thinks he’s so beautiful.

Before either of them notice, about 15 seconds has passed.

Carlos is about to say something, but Seb speaks up instead.

“We should probably get back to class. Our project isn’t going to present itself.”

When they get back in the classroom, they’ve been gone about 6 minutes. Mr. Cilli has always been lenient towards his students, so they only get a warning.

When it’s their turn to present, Carlos can’t stop looking at Seb. All he can think about is what he said earlier. And also, just him in general.

Seb isn’t looking at Carlos. He’s too worried that he’ll get lost in Carlos’s eyes, so he just avoids eye contact. Which pains him a little bit, but it’s alright.

In the end, their presentation gets a B.

They get points off for being distracted during the presentation.

And they’re both more than okay with that.

-pipes 🤍