#first off it’s the second anniversary of my mom’s death AND her birthday

[boyhood]

Today is the third year anniversary of my dad's death. My distance with and to grief loops around, doubles back.

The first year after he died, my grandmother was critically ill in the hospital- I didn't have the space to feel anything but overwhelmed. The first year after he died, I was still dealing with the material problems and paperwork of a sudden death, even 12 months later. That year I had an incredibly intense full time job of mostly emotional labor that felt like it was sucking all the blood out of my body.

The second year after died, I was driving my sister's car back five hours home from San Francisco without her- she moved out on the exact date. I kept trying to get myself to feel anything but tired but I couldn't. That year I had no job, and seemed unemployable and hopeless.

Today I wake up from a nightmare at 7AM and can't fall back asleep. I cry on my way to drop my cat off at the vet and I can't stop thinking about how blurry my memories of the week of his dying feel. I think I was crying when I told the hospital to stop life support, but maybe I wasn't. I remember being under the covers when I talked to them. I was as sick as he was at the time with the same thing he was sick with. I didn't really have a voice from coughing but still had to make a lot of phone calls. I remember not crying when the hospital called me to tell him he died. I was in the car with my mom and my sister but I don't remember where we were going to or from.

This year I have a good job, part time, that I like and am good at. Every single facet of my life is completely different than it was three years ago. I've been tired and directionless since he died, but softer too. It's my birthday in two days. I miss my dad. I love my dad. I miss my dad.

[briar--rising]

Extensive non-graphic discussion of suicide (I'm fine, I'm not suicidal, don't worry). Also lots of maternal enmeshment talk

Therapy today was rough. I'm doing so much better in so many ways, but that doesn't mean the trauma is gone lol. I do so well in early spring, and then May and June comes and I can taste death in the air. I won't let it pull me under this year, I refuse to spiral into long-lasting psychosis and lose my progress until next February again. But it's still difficult.

My mother is. Fucked up. Obviously. But something that I realized in today's session was that her dream scenario is still the two of us committing suicide together in the end. And that's. Well. It feels bad.

A few weeks ago she brought up again how she wants to commit suicide when she gets very old/sick, or if the world goes to a very bad place. And the reason she insists on bringing this up with me is that she's very clear that it will be my responsibility to make sure she gets the assisted suicide she wants someday. Basically, asking me to kill her one day. And today was the anniversary of my uncle's suicide, and in about a month it will be the anniversary of my mom's suicide attempt when I was 11, and so it's all just...been on my mind. And we talked today in therapy about how the fact that my mom attempted suicide shortly before my birthday was especially damaging for me, and how basically being the one to find her that day but then not being allowed to see her for a while in the hospital once she woke up was deeply traumatic. And it's all just. Tangled together in my head.

I've known for years that I'll be in charge of making sure my mom gets the assisted suicide she wants, she's made that very clear to me. And I do not want that responsibility, but I just always knew/assumed it would be my job. And I was talking about that with my therapist today and she was like "I think it would be very dangerous for you to do that. You will always have a tendency towards psychosis, and there is already so much tangled up in you and your mother and annihilation and death and loss of self, and I do not think it will ever be safe for you to help her with that." And I realized she was right, but it literally hadn't occurred to me that I was allowed to not be the one to help with that? But like. I don't have to. A friend of hers can do it. My brother can do it. Someone, anyone who isn't me can help her find a doctor and get what she needs someday. I do not have to kill my mother. I do not have to kill myself.

Because I know in her dream scenario we'd do it together, and/or my doing it for her would push me to do it to myself. First of all, she's literally suggested it before. Second of all, she cannot cope with or even begin to comprehend the fact that I am separate from her and that I would dare to live without her. We were talking today about how my mom's relationship feels almost parasitic, like she's drawing on me to sustain herself, and how I was worried that by cutting her off and having increasing boundaries I was hurting her by taking away her access to her life force. And my therapist was like, "No, because those boundaries are real for you, but not for her. Consciously she sort of accepts them, but in her mind you are still completely enmeshed. What do you think would happen if you asked to move back in with her?" And I was like, "She'd be thrilled, she'd start working towards it immediately." And she was like, "Exactly. If she was developing the type of boundaries you are, she would have reservations about her adult child moving back in. But she doesn't have any of those boundaries, and still believes and feels you to be as close as you were, so you're not hurting her by having those boundaries internally, because she will never be able to share them or even truly understand that you have them." So that was helpful, if disturbing in its own way. Bc it also made me realize how deeply enmeshed we still are on her end, and how clear it is from that and from several things she's said over the years including quite recently that she wants us to kill ourselves together someday.

But I won't. I refuse. When she wants to die she can find someone else to help her manage it, and I will not be joining her. I will not let her annihilate me in life or death.

[anon-e-miss]

Here's a little something you're all here for.

Trauma dumping. Yeah. I know.

I didn't mark my dad's 80th birthday because that was the same day my family was embarking on the trip I got kicked off of because I demanded an apology and space from my abusive sister.

I didn't mark it because I didn't want to explain to extended family why I didn't go on this family trip. I didn't know what sort of things my bitch sister would be posting.

I didn't mark the second anniversary of his death in September because I didn't have words.

So I didn't wish him an 80th birthday. I know he's dead and doesn't know to care.

I want to stop caring about blow back. No one cares about my sister hurting me. My mother claims to agree she's been awful and she claims she's told her as much but I don't believe she has said much of anything because I grew up with her. I know how my mother parented my sister.

Why do I care what my mother feels? I have been clinging to Kinktober to have some tiny distraction from the lead up to the trip and then them being away on it. My mother is mad at me for not telling her not to go. After she first told me she would not go but then said she would go because she didn't want to lose the last of dad's death benefits she'd put down.

She's mad at me for not telling her not to go. She tells me now that really she had been guilted to go for my nieces. So she's mad at me for not guilting her to and I told her never in a million years would she have picked me over the girls, just to start. Next, she told me she didn't want to lose the money. I feel enough guilt my boyfriend did.

I shouldn't have needed to tell her. I shouldn't have needed to tell her it would be hurtful for her to GO ALONG WITH THE PERSON THAT HURT ME instead of standing up for me.

Fuck that. Fuck that.

Fully acknowledging here that I am having a bit of a rage spiral right now. I have been holding this in for a month because I didn't want to blow up on her before she left on the trip because I didn't want to ruin it for her.

Turn around and she didn't apologize for going. She blamed me for being hurt. She takes no responsibility for the consequences of her decisions.

I am so fucking tired of caring about other people's feelings when they don't give a fuck about mine. I'm so tired of not mattering to my own fucking family.

I'm really fucking tired. Mom laid a guilt trip on me before she left that she wasn't going to have Christmas if my sister and I didn't work this out. I addressed that, since I was on a role, and told her I didn't want to guilt of her not celebrating her favourite holiday. We went back and forth a bit and she's going to invite us both to her place for Christmas day and that's that. Normally my sister hosts. I see this turning into my sister hosting within hours of the invite going out.

I said fine. If mom hosts I go. I give the girls presents. I give mom one, boyfriend one. The bitch gets nothing. Not even a stocking stuffer. Not even coal. She isn't worth a dog turd. But I don't believe it'll role out that way because given Mom went on the trip, I know how firm her spine is when it comes to my sister.

I don't know. My head hurts. I need to talk to the boyfriend because I need him to understand how bad this is. I need him to not try to fix this because it isn't for me to fix. I am not the one that needs to be fixed.

[missflufffanfics]

Chenford + meeting Lucy's parents

Sunshine

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44650699/chapters/112331302

“ In the criminal justice system, sexually-based offenses are considered especially heinous… ”

“You really want to watch this after the tense work week we had?” Tim wrapped his arm around her waist just a bit tighter. Lucy sighed as she cuddled under the stack of pillows and rested her head on Tim’s chest. 

“Of course I do, don’t you want to nitpick everything that’s inaccurate in the episode?” Lucy smiled up at him, anticipating that to be his weakness; she was correct.

“I suppose that is a perk…” Tim resigned as he turned the volume up and settled in against the arm of the couch. 

They had been dating for almost two months now, but it felt like much longer. She knew this was her last first, and she didn’t want to miss a second of it. She wanted to be able to banter about Law and Order: SVU with Tim for the rest of her life, and she had no doubt he felt the same.

She was jolted out of her daydream, not by the broody voice of Elliot Stabler, but by a knock at the door. She begrudgingly got up, sliding her socked feet over to the door, and checked the peephole; oh god. She slumped her shoulders, she was wearing an old band t-shirt and shorts with her long socks- so not exactly the prim appearance this unexpected guest would have preferred, but she had lost the will to care at that moment. She didn’t want to see this new guest.

“Luce, who is it? What’s wrong” Tim saw by the slump of her shoulders, the deep brown sorrow of disappointment, and regret, it could only be one person. 

“My mom.” 

Tim paused the TV immediately, the SVU logo hovering on the screen. He’d always secretly wondered about her parents, considering she met his, but he obviously was never going to mention it. She didn’t want to deal with the confrontation, and while he didn’t know much about her parents, he could tell they had an effect on her. The way she stood now, the way her expression shifted, it was like an anvil was on each shoulder, and she couldn’t escape it. His gut churned as he got up and came to Lucy’s side. 

Lucy’s parents already knew about Tim, but they hadn’t talked about it in person. She had called them about it, in an ecstatic rush thinking they might actually approve of her being in a stable relationship. With another cop. Who was also her superior officer. And former TO. So, obviously, that didn’t work out too well. But then she could just hang up when things were going into insulting territory (which happened rather quickly, by the way), but now she couldn’t. 

She hesitantly opened the door. 

“Took you long enough. Hello Lucy. Oh, you were busy watching horrid police shows, isn’t your ‘job’ enough?” Her mother made no point to ask before coming in. Tim put an arm around Lucy’s waist, preparing himself for what was to come.

“Oh, and it’s that superior you decided to get… involved with, what was your name? Tom?” Sigh. They both hoped this visit would be short.

“I-it’s, whatever-”

“Still talking like the reckless teenager you are…” Tim was about to object before Lucy squeezed her hand; a warning. Don’t engage.  

“Why are you here, Mom?”

“Well, I doubt you remembered, but it is your biological father’s anniversary… of his death. See on your 30th birthday he wanted me to give this to you,” She pulled out a small package from her bag. 

“Of course, your 30th has come and gone, but I didn’t think you could handle this, but I recently…changed my mind. No, I don’t know what is in it, never cared to look. Now I have errands to run, so I’ll be off. Goodbye dear,” and with that, she was gone. 

Lucy rushed to the couch to open the box. Her mother had no right to keep this from her, and she wanted to see what her biological dad would say to her like years ago. Finally she might get some closure, but first, TIm seemed like he had something on his mind, and Lucy was still a little weighed down from her conflict with her mother. 

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurts, his brows creased. 

“Why?” Lucy touched his arm reassuringly. This was not his fault. 

“I’m sorry that you had to deal with that your whole life.”

“Yeah, well, ya know, family…” Tim and Lucy both understood the weight parents could leave on an innocent child.

“Are you ready to open the box?”

“Very,” She opened the top of what appeared to be a small cardboard box, the slim rectangular kind that normally held earrings or a small necklace. She opened it to see an envelope and a necklace, a locket. 

First, she gently unfurled the letter, pieces of parchment falling out of the yellow envelope. She turned it to Tim, inviting him to read with her, and then they began.

Dear Lucy,  

I hope I get to see you one day, but if it doesn’t come to that, I’ve left this with your mother to give you when the time is right. I let her decide when that would be, which I’ll probably regret.  

If you do happen to read this, I want to tell you a few things you probably would like to hear after dealing with your mother and father for however many years it has been for you. While I never got to properly meet who you would become, I knew, the second you were born that you would be the most determined, fearless ray of sunshine to ever exist on this planet (the opposite of your mother, by the way).  

I knew- and still know- and urge you to continue- fighting tooth and nail for everything you want, because as long as you do that, you can get anything and everything you deserve. People will push you down (most likely the people raising you, from what I saw of them anyway), and many will try, I should say. Because you won’t, can’t let it get to you. You have too much potential for that.  

Be the ray of sunshine I know you are, and the burning, fiery star you need to be in this world. And I hope you find peace.  

Sincerely,  

Your father by blood and spirit  

PS- The item I’ve attached with this is a locket, with a photo of the first time I ever met you, and the last time. When you were born in the hospital. Hope you still shine as you did then :) - Dad 

Lucy frantically grabbed for the locket, ignoring the fiery tears going down her cheeks. She opened the locket, which was gold in the shape of a sun, and it was exactly what he said it would be- a photo of their first and last meeting. 

Tim gently clasped it around her neck, then dropped her hair over the clasp of the golden chain. She felt at peace, but a part of her still needed to know one thing. 

“Why did my mother wait to show me this until now? There must be more reason then the anniversary of the death, something we’re missing, Tim.”

“Maybe we need to stop watching so much Law And Order after shift-”

“Tim, I’m serious, unfortunately, I know my mother, and this isn’t like her.” Tim took in a breath, realizing this was important to her. He got up and headed for the door. 

“Come on then, let’s go ask her.”

----

“Mom! I need to ask you something,” Lucy stood determined in front of her mother in the freezing parking lot of Lucy’s apartment complex, but she didn’t twitch. Now that was the fiery star Lucy's biological dad was talking about in that letter , Tim thought, proud. 

“Why did you wait to give me this until now?” Realizing Lucy wasn’t leaving anytime soon, her mother sagged her shoulders and started to explain.

“Your father and I are having…issues right now. Your biological dad once said, in the throws of one of our worse fights, that your father and I would be rude, horrible parents. I’m starting to think he might’ve been right. However, that doesn’t mean you were a peach either, throwing away your life for some pathetic thing you call a career…” Ah, family.  

“I-thanks mom, I’m going to head back inside. Goodnight,” And with that, she took Tim’s hand and trudged back to her apartment. 

“Sorry about all that,”

“Don’t do that, now are you okay?” Lucy paused.

“Yes, actually. It’s nice to know my biological dad was always there for me, in spirit at least.”

Tim held Lucy’s hand just a little tighter as they walked up the stairs to her apartment. He didn’t feel the need to meet any more of Lucy’s mother’s side of the family, he’d just read a letter about the only family member of her’s that mattered. 

[sparatus]

📖

send me 📓 for a fic plot i haven't written yet

thanks j!! let's seeeee well ive been working on the ataats rewrite so with the madelivio-sparatus clan on the brain,

ive been nursing a concept for a while of like, whole big massive clan get-together, probably for a milestone birthday or anniversary of calvetana and virian's since they're the common ancestor between ax's family and sparky's (first cousins once removed, calvetana is ierian's grandmother and axilus's great-grandmother). anniversary would probably have the smaller cast, cause calvetana's birthday is also her twin sister verritana's birthday, and verri has equally as expansive a mess of descendants, lol. farmers and fishers in a food-scarce environment, lots of kids. anyway!

the main focus would be axilus and his second cousin verres, ierian's second child, who were born in the same year and not terribly far apart at that. they're not really the only kids at the event, of course, but finding that one kid who's the same age as you at a big party with a wide range of guest ages is always important. was the kid looking for kids my age to hang with at parties for adults, can confirm. i'm thinking they're both about 5, maybe 6? started school already, but haven't hit puberty yet. they're fast friends and scuttle around looking for some way to entertain themselves. first step: escaping the watchful eyes of their moms, sephira and aediteia, who both married into this clan and do love their in-laws but acknowledge they're mostly here to mind their chicks and keep their husbands apart (because, as well as ax and verres get along, aephis and ierian do not). easiest way to do that? get the dads bickering, of course!

once seph and teia are distracted scolding their grown-ass husbands from squabbling like children, ax and verres are free to slip off and explore and get into shit as young kids who sneak away from parental supervision are so wont to do. they seek out members of the family they know, meet some they don't, talk about stuff in their lives (verres at this point spends half his year on the citadel, half in tiirtias, while ax lives mostly in cipritine with summers in zouklos) and compare-contrast, sneak food from the dessert table, and are generally curious young drakes. there's a slight language barrier, verres's first language is tiirtiak while ax's is zouklian, but they've both been in school long enough to have learned a passable amount of imperial standard, and ax knows a handful of tiirtiak from his dad, so they make it work. they even find parsaemat calvetana, who gives them each a filled hoof to chew on and a wink and promises she didn't see them if their moms ask.

they're having a grand old time being excitable 5yo kids running around dodging their moms, who have also recruited their older brothers tollak and areus (respectively) to help look despite them being Bored Teenagers Too Cool For This™️ who want to go home, until [dramatic scare chord] they finally cross paths with The Sisters™️, aka calvetana's three daughters meana, lisia, and corinn, all hanging out together and gossiping. meana is ierian's mom and verres's grandma, while corinn is aephis's mom/axilus's grandma, and neither of them is terribly impressed with their grandsons getting up to mischief and worrying their mothers. the boys are tempted over to their table with bones and marrow cakes, then as soon as they're cheerfully eating sephira and teia are summoned (with both boys' wrists clamped in a grandmotherly vice grip) to regain control over their brood.

party's over, mom's mad, both kids are restricted to within a few paces of their moms until the end of the party. worst part of course is no dessert, they're still young enough that staying with mom isn't a death sentence, and their moms actually get along quite well and want to continue hanging out, so they still can play calm games and chat with each other. they also get to play with their dads, who are also in wife-supervised timeout for fighting, but can grudgingly tolerate each other long enough to play with their sons.

they do get treats before bed several hours later, though. it wasn't that bad, seph and teia suppose, and it's nice that they made friends while their dads were being bitey with each other, and you're only young once, and they're such sweet kids, really. the boys don't tell anybody that great-aunt lisia and calvetana both snuck them extra filled bones as a treat for being cute and entertaining.

.... oops that got long i have a lot of feelings about baby axilus and his family okay--

[hybridanafrost]

So I took some minor OCs from the back of my mind and made Jack the Ripper a wifey and some kids.

Name: Lorena Harlow

Age: 28

Birthday: September 26

Sign: Libra

Magic: Hook Magic

Grimoire: 3 leaf

Occupation: Butcher

Lorena is a young, widowed mother who lost her husband five years ago. After he had passed, she went back to her maiden name. She has two young daughters, Agnes (age 9) and Abigail (age 5). In order to support her family as a single mother, she works at a butcher shop and is very talented at what she does. She has a younger brother named Bennett Harlow (age 25) who works as a blacksmith to help keep the family afloat and look after her kids while she's away. One day, after losing most of his wages to gambling, Captain Jack stopped by her shop to sell her his latest kill. He was impressed by her expert knowledge on meat and hunting and asked what time she got off her shift so he could take her out. She initially rebuffed his offer until he found her at the local bar later that evening. Lorena had been drinking alone, as was her personal ritual of celebrating the day of her wedding anniversary after her husband's death. Jack sat next to her, bought her some drinks, and tried again to pick her up. She told him she had children, a detail that usually scared most men away. That didn't intimidate Jack in the slightest, claiming he found young mothers hot. Letting the booze and her natural urges get the better of her, she agreed to sleep with Jack the Ripper that night. She would quip that he was lucky he was built like her late husband because she liked tall men. The two had their night of passion and realized they were incredibly compatible. They began a friends with benefits type of relationship for half a year before Lorena gave him a genuine shot at a relationship. Jack got along well with her daughters, and the two eventually got married. Yami finds Lorena spooky with the way she can talk so casually about taking carcasses apart with her hooks and calls her "Mama Mantis." The nickname stuck with her among the Green Mantises. They admire her and her cooking very much.

Name: Agnes Harlow

Birthday: April 3rd

Sign: Aries

Magic: Knife Magic

Agnes is Lorena's firstborn daughter with her late husband. Agnes is the only one of Lorena's two children to remember their birth father. Being young and finding it difficult to cope with the loss, she develops anger issues. Agnes can be very sweet but has destructive habits. When her magic started manifesting, she began cutting her own hair. Lorena decided to give Agnes the freedom of deciding what to do with her hair, so it looks like a choppy bob most of the time. Once Agnes wasn't paying attention and cut the bridge of her nose by accident, leaving a scar. She usually covered it up with a bandage because she was insecure about it. After getting introduced to Captain Jack as her mother's "friend," she takes to him very well and begins to idolize him. She stopped wearing the bandage because he made having a scarred face cool. After Lorena and Jack explained they wanted to get married, Agnes wasn't as excited as Abigail was since she didn't want to feel like she was replacing her father for Jack. She did admit that she loved Jack and wanted her mom and sister to be happy. It took her a while after the marriage before she was comfortable enough to start calling Jack "dad." He never expected her to, so hearing it warmed Jack's deranged heart. She hopes to become a powerful magic knight someday.

Name: Abigail Harlow

Birthday: May 25th

Sign: Gemini

Magic: Chisel Magic

Abigail is Lorena's second child with her late husband. Her father died when she was still a baby, so she had no memory of him. The closest she ever had to a father was her uncle Ben. So when Lorena brought home Jack, she was very intrigued and bonded with him immediately. She was the first to call Jack "dad" after he married her mother. Abigail is very creative and enjoys carving or whittling with her magic.

Bennett Harlow profile is coming soon!

[shootertron-stuff]

Anniversary

A Black Legionnaire wanted to give his Imperial Fist wife a special present for their 300th birthday.

But before he could give the present, the wife ran away with his other Space Marine wives and kids, owing to poor treatment and lack of freedom under his care. And then his sons tried to kill him, because patricide is the way of the Black Legion.

Years later he finally gets the chance to give the present.

(one big sex toy joke, trans fem dysphoria, Imperial Fists being not normal about human remains, abusive husband, an "Am I the Asshole?" type scenario where the husband is wrong)

The wife opens the small box and finds a warped glass object inside. It's the sacred Imperial Fists buttplug that their husband stole from them centuries ago, when they were first abducted to be his bride, and sold to pay warband expenses.

The buttplug has changed owners and has been broken and fused back together, and it's unlikely it's safe to use any more, but the wife starts crying because they got something back they thought was lost forever.

Because the Imperial Fists can't be normal about human remains the buttplug contains the ashes of a fallen battle brother from centuries ago.

The Black Legionnaire has had time to do self-reflection. Being (temporarily) left by the person who loves most in the galaxy, and almost being killed by their sons and wives has made him treasure what he has.

It's a miracle his wife still wants to stay married, after everything he's put them through.

"I'm...sorry I sold your buttplug. I still miss my mom, and if I still had something of hers and someone sold it, I would be upset too."

Initially he thought the buttplug was just a buttplug. He certainly didn't sell his wife's bone relics, because they would be selling their dead family members (he merely took them away for safekeeping). He was aware of the practice of putting cremains in glass mementos, but didn't think the Imperial Fists were weird enough to put cremains in a buttplug.

Once he realized his mistake, he tried to make his wife feel better by offering to buy them a new buttplug, because he couldn't afford to buy it back (a genuine Imperial Fists buttplug is extremely valuable). The wife was even more upset because that buttplug was irreplaceable, how could he suggest buying a replacement from a catalogue?

After his wife got so sick they nearly died, the Black Legionnaire did everything he could to make them happy. After asking around, he found out that the cremains buttplug was used in an unsuccessful attempt to summon Rogal Dorn which resulted in the death of its owner in a massive Warp disturbance visible from space. After spending centuries in the butts of different battle brothers, the amount of psychic energy stored inside the buttplug was astounding, and as it turns out, too much for the average sorcerer to handle. The buttplug was presumed destroyed, or depleted of its stored psychic energy, greatly decreasing its value. Because of that, nobody had bothered to look for it, but the Black Legionnaire went down to the last known location of the buttplug, sifted through the wreckage, miraculously found all the pieces, and welded them back together. This time, all it cost was the price of fuel and his time.

Unfortunately he was unable to get the wife's gold-plated cock cage back too. The wife used to wear a cock cage that were too small in the hopes of making their dick fall off. The Black Legionnaire sold it because the owner got a penectomy/vaginoplasty and presumably wouldn't need it any more, and the cock cage didn't look like it was the remains of a loved one, either. The last owner got caught in an orbital bombing and the cock cage was melted.

(The wife told their sons they would have inherited the cock cage had it not been sold. Their second oldest son, who is very sensitive about these things, screamed "no that's incest!!!")

("How is that incest?!" Mom didn't understand what's so wrong about passing down a cock cage to your son, especially one that is easily sanitized. Imperial Fists have passed down buttplugs and cock cages from generation to generation for millennia, as if they were sacred antique guns.)

The wife is touched by their husband's gesture, even if he shouldn't have taken the buttplug and cock cage in the first place. It's the small steps towards self-improvement that count.

Of course, it would be loser-ish if the only anniversary present was the buttplug, since the Black Legionnaire is merely returning what he stole. He also brought back a package of seeds that grow into eggplants that are also guinea pigs, for planting in the yard.

They are soft and shiny and bruise easily and make the wife cry because they're so cute, scampering around on their tiny legs, making soft noises. Living beings are so fragile...

[i-shoot-back-at-friendly-fire]

Randomly thought of songs that were ruined for me and I now can't listen to them, even to this day despite the reason for ruination no longer mattering:

"I'm the Man" by Aloe Blacc - this was playing in my car when I got pulled over for the first time in 2014 in Fremont, CA, I didn't think about it until after the cop gave me a ticket and left, when I restarted my car the song came back on and I definitely didn't feel like "the man" so almost 9 years later I still skip it every time

"Space Bound" by Eminem: back in 2014 my then-girlfriend was riding in the car with me when this song came on, that album is my favorite by Eminem so I was a few seconds into it and she said she hated this song because it made her think of her abusive ex so every time I hear it I think of her toxic ass ex

Anything by Marilyn Manson: I really liked Marilyn Manson's music but after abuse allegations popped up in 2021 I stopped listening to his stuff

"Riptide" by Vance Joy: My toxic ass ex heard this on the radio and mentioned she loved it so I got it on my iPod and would play it for her in the car sometimes, she turned out to be a pretty bad apple so now every time I hear it I have to skip it

"Wake Me Up When September Ends" by Green Day: This song had just come out the weekend my dad visited me after he came home from his first leave being back in the military. It played shortly before he dropped me off at my mom's and left so every time I hear it I get pretty sad and usually skip it, but not always. Add the entire album "Carnavas" by Silversun Pickups because we listened to it before he deployed to Afghanistan when I was 16

"All Who Remain" by Beware of Darkness: this song came out when I was in Afghanistan, it started to play when u was on my way to my best friends memorial service. He and I served together, he was killed by a drunk driver a month after we got back. The lyrics of this song were so fitting and every time I hear it I cry. I only listen to it on his birthday, Memorial Day, or the anniversary of his death.

"I Love It" by Icona Pop: Fuck I hated this song from day one, but more so because our platoon sergeant was driving and this came on over the radio and everybody started singing along knowing the driver hated it so he slammed on the brakes. Most of us suffered bruises.

"Royals" by Lorde: After Afghanistan this song played every time I was with my girlfriend, but it was a depressing time and she was pretty emotionally detached when I needed an emotional connection so I skip every time

Any country: Just don't. Unless I'm wasted on the 4th of July.

"Santa Baby" by anyone: Can't listen to it. Christmas 2008, junior year, my new girlfriend recorded her cover of it and gave it to me, I listened to it right before she put on a Santa hat and lingerie and had that desperately horny teenage sex that I couldn't get enough of, so hearing this brings back vivid sexual memories. Add "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih for the same reasons, same girl. Add "T-Shirt" by Shontelle because that was her ring tone.

Taps: this mournful shit brings me to tears. I shouldn't have to explain why.

"Paper Planes" by MIA: Can't stand her voice, but also my sophomore year this song was played way too much and it brings back memories of Bieber hair and Hollister clothes and other high school bullshit. Skip. 100%

Anything by Journey, Foreigner, or Boston: My mom listened to this during a time in my life as a kid where we did not get along. Still can't listen to this shit.

The 20th Anniversary Super Deluxe release of Soundgarden's "Badmotorfinger" album: I was in Honduras and bought this online, it took forever to download, which probably contributes to my relatively derisive attitude toward all the outtakes and B-sides, I usually skip. Buyers remorse, no skip regrets.

"Shadow of the Day" by Linkin Park: This was my freshman year soundtrack while I was in the process of moving out of my mom's house and consequently out of state and away from my first serious girlfriend. Rather not relive that.

What songs were ruined for you?

[honeyed-cherries]

all i ask is to a have a single good day >:(

[uwuwriting]

Tamaki, Todoroki and Shinsou  in a secret relationship....and how they got caught.

Request: Hello I love your blog and since your requests are open I would like to request Tamaki Todoroki and Shinsou being in a secret relationship for a long time and how they got outed. If you could write something similar for Semi, Akaashi, Kenma and Sakusa from Haikyuu you would be a blessing. I love you!!!! - anonymous

Awww of course I’ll write for the Haikyuu boys as well. I’ll write later this week or the next and since its almost midnight here HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHINSOU!!!! I have a special soulmate au as I usually do for my husband!!!! I’m sorry I’m not getting to those soulmate aus quicker 😣😣😣😣. Love yaa.💖💖💖💖

rules 

warnings: fluff

Amajiki Tamaki 

-He’s so shy omggg.

-How did you manage to get him into a relationship???

-He loves you to the moon and back. 

-Would do anything for you. 

-You two were in the same class all through out high school and during your second year he asked you out. 

-Okay not exactly. 

-You were studying in the library together during a really bad storm when the lights went out. 

-Loud lightning followed and you jumped out of your skin. 

-You were terrified of lightning and being paired with complete darkness you were petrified. 

-Now Tamaki had had a crush on you since early last year and seeing you so terrified and vulnerable he pushed through his anxiety for a split moment and wrapped you in a hug, stroking your hair soothingly as he tried to calm you down. 

- “I-I’ll p-protect you. I-I w-won’t let a-anything h-hurt you..... ever.”

-That’s how your relationship began basically. 

-He comforted you and kept you safe, shielding you from your fears. 

-Everything else is history. 

-Now you are both third years in your respective hero studies with a bright future in front of you. 

-Your relationship has been kept a secret mainly because both of you don’t like making your private lives public. 

-Only Nejire and Mirio know. 

-Surprisingly they have kept it a secret. 

-Fatgum has a suspicion that Tamaki has someone in his life, someone really important. 

-So important he had called in one time claiming that he had an emergency and wouldn’t make it to the agency. 

-When Fatgum asked, Tamaki began stuttering and mumbling about someone really close to him being sick and needing help. 

-In reality you were on your period and had awful cramps.

-You were feeling like death, curled up in a ball on Tamaki’s bed and refusing to move. 

-You had begged him to go to his hero study but he claimed that you were more important, not going to the agency for an evening wouldn’t mark the end of the world. 

-Then Chisaki happened and Tamaki was badly injured. 

-Your agency was stationed outside so you couldn’t help him or know what had happened. 

-You had a broken arm after the fight and was being escorted to the ambulances when you saw Tamaki being carried on a stretcher blood running down his cheek as his arms and whole body was covered in bruises, cuts and so much blood. 

-Your feet moved on their own accord, sprinted through the crowd ignoring the calls of the medic until you reached your boyfriend. 

- “Tama? T-Tamaki baby wake up.”

-Fatgum saw you touch Tamaki’s cheek with your good hand and how, when the boy weakly opened his eyes, he placed his own hand over yours. 

-Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at him, following the medics as they placed the stretcher in the ambulance. 

-They told you that he would be fine and that you should find another medical team that could take care of your arm. 

-Everything fell apart though when you saw Mirio and Sir Nighteye. 

-Everything was a mess but Fatgum noticed how you would always look back to Tamaki’s ambulance as it drove off. 

-In the hospital you didn’t leave Tamaki’s room, insisting on getting your bandages changed in his room refusing to get your own and leave his side. 

-Fatgum was happy for him. 

-Especially when he went to visit and found Tamaki holding you close to him. 

-Your head was over his heart as he gently massaged your back, tears falling down your cheeks once again. 

-Then he kissed your forehead and Fatgum knew that this wasn’t a moment he wanted to interrupt. 

-When he did visit along side Kirishima he didn’t lose a bit before he asked about you. 

-You were surprisingly not beside him deciding to visit Mirio again to see how he was coping. 

- “So... what’s her name hm?”

- “W-Who?”

- “Your girlfriend!!”

-Tamaki burst into a deep blush as he tried hiding his face in his hands. 

- “Come one I’ve seen how she looks at you and how you kissed her OH so lovingly on the forehead the other day was the cut-”

- “Y/N! H-her n-name is Y-Y/N.”

-Kirishima is standing there, jaw almost touching the floor when you open the door and peek inside. 

- “Oh! I’m sorry.... I-I’ll come back later....”

-Okay now Kirishima is already kind losing it because he didn’t expect his shy senpai to have a girlfriend. 

-So when Tamaki lets out a very low, slightly above a whisper, “But bunny....” he freaking snaps. 

- “WHAT!!!!”

- “Kirishima we’re in a hospital!”

-Get ready to be bombarded with questions....poor you.

-At least you get to sit next to Tamaki while you are being interrogated. 

-They insisted on that saying that they wouldn’t keep Tamaki away from his girl...Tamaki is burying his face in your hair....shy baby.

Todoroki Shouto

-Okay so your relationship is a secret because of his dad. 

-He wanted to shield you from his toxicity. 

-Plus Shouto knew that his dad would force you two apart and he couldn’t let that happen. 

-So you are his little secret. 

-Only his mom knows about you.

-Shouto took you to meet her after your one year anniversary.

-He loves you so damn much he could die. 

-So seeing the two most important women in his life interact and get along he melts. 

-As you say your goodbye to Rei she hugs you, thanking you for taking care of her baby and that your secret will be safe with her. 

-Then she moves on to Shouto as you wait in the hallway. 

- “I like her Shouto. She really loves you. Please take good care of her.”

-Boy falls in love with you all over again I swear to god. 

-Now you spend a lot of time in his dorm. 

-When I say a lot I mean it. 

-You remember how Shouto managed to remodel his room in an afternoon during their first day in the dorms. 

-Yeah that’s what he does for your dates. 

-Since you can’t risk going to outdoor dates very often since it’s very easy for a paparazzi to spot the son of Endeavor.

-Especially if he is holding hands with someone else. 

-Natsuo actually warned you about that and he was the one to suggest dorm dates. 

-He had taken his girlfriend out on a diner date and the next day they were all over multiple tabloids accompanied by multiple calls from Endeavor. 

-All Todoroki children hide their s/o’s......even Fuyumi. 

-Anyways back to Shouto. 

-You spend so much time in his room that you tend to leave some of your clothes there. 

-You change into his hoodies in his room so forgetting your shirt there is a usual phenomenon.

-Plus you do the dirty so.... scattered clothes.

-Now Todoroki is friends with Momo.

-And Momo is friends with you. 

-And she has seen your closet on multiple occasions. 

-She knows your clothes.....you see where I’m going with this?

-Todoroki was struggling with some chemistry problems and you were out doing your hero studies. 

-You had apologized to him multiple times and had suggested Momo as the perfect tutor. 

-That’s why Momo is now alone in his room as he is making tea in the kitchen, looking at what seems to be like one of your favorite sweaters. 

-You had gotten it during Christmas and wouldn’t take it off for a week straight. 

-You had basically brainwashed them by how often you wear it. 

-Why was it in Todoroki’s room though?

- “Todoroki-kun why do you have L/N-san’s sweater?”

-He froze.

-You had stayed the night last Monday and you had been wearing that sweater. 

-He remembers it vividly since he was the one who took it off.....along with your bra.......that he threw somewhere in the room.....AND MOMO COULD FIND AT ANY MOMENT.

-Momo was starting to get worried because well....he had been standing at the same spot for a solid minute staring at absolutely nothing. 

-Standing up she went to shake his shoulder when her eyes caught a bright red fabric peeking out from under the desk.

-Brushing past him she crouched down and grabbed the fabric revealing the red bra. 

-Todoroki snapped out of his shock state the moment Momo reached for the bra strap. 

-He couldn’t stop her though....

- “T-Todoroki-kun.....” 

-And as if things couldn’t get any worse, his phone started to ring as your photo appeared on the screen your name replaced by a heart surrounded ‘babygirl’.

-Todoroki groaned at well everything. 

-Momo was blushing like crazy STILL holding your bra. 

-You two had a lot of things to explain. 

Shinsou Hitoshi

-I’ve said this before. 

-You never meant your relationship to be a secret. 

-At least not in the beginning. 

-You two just never acted like a couple and people assumed that you were just good friends.

-Then you heard Aizawa scaring a boy who had made Mina cry so.........dating his special trainee while you were one of his FEMALE students?

-Nope.

-A secret it is.

-Aizawa is a protective dad and you can’t change my mind. 

-You have a collection of hoodies you have ‘borrowed’ that you wear only inside your or his dorm. 

-And while you sleep. 

-Falling asleep surrounded by his scent is heaven. 

-Aizawa has caught you twice wearing his hoodies.

-Once when Shinsou got turned into a baby and once when you went to get water and he scared you shitless. 

-Aizawa knows about yalls relationship. 

-You can run but you cannot hide child. 

-Anyways. 

-You had a box full of Polaroids from your dates. 

-He knew how happy you were when you two took photos that’s why he bought you a Polaroid. 

-Now you can print your photos and decorate your room. 

-Shinsou is an insomniac.

-We’ve been knew. 

-So on the rare days when he feels kinda sleepy but he misses you so badly he can’t really fall asleep he’ll sneak in your dorm and have an impromptu sleepover. 

-You don’t complain of course. 

-You love to snuggle up to him.

-Also this boy loves wrapping you up in his arms.

-Snuggles snuggles snuggles. 

-Irrelevant information: he has you saved on his phone as kitten and your contact photo is you hanging upside down from the ceiling wrapped up in his capture tool. 

-He had tried teaching you to use it and you somehow managed to climb on the bookcase trying to remake that scene from Tarzan but the cloth got caught on the ceiling fan resulting in this hilarious photo. 

-Back to your sleepover.

-He falls asleep like in the blink of an eye.

-Your sleep that night is the best both of you have had in a fat while. 

-Plus the fact that its the weekend lets you enjoy each others warmth for as long as you like. 

-YES YOU SLEPT IN!!!!

-Being friends with Mina and Kaminari is a ride. 

-Sero and Bakubro and maybe Kiri in some occasions are damage control but they get tired and let you take care of the children. 

-You had promised to go out shopping that morning, a plan you totally forgot when Shinsou tapped your window last night. 

-Giving Mina a spare key to your room was the worst decision you could have made considering you were in a secret relationship. 

-When you didn’t show up on time the two idiots waited for an hour before they made their way to your room.

-Using the spare key she pushed the door open letting out a long “Y/N-CHAAAAN!!!” which scared the soul out of your bodies. 

-You let out a startled scream that woke Hitoshi up who without missing a bit pulled you under him shielding you from whatever made you scream. 

-It was purely on instinct to save and protect you hfqpirhfhsod so cute!!!!

-Mina was left staring at the scene in front of her while Kaminari was calling Sero begging him to come to your room. 

-I don’t know how they didn’t attract dadzawa.

-You would get your ass whooped. 

-Shopping was long forgotten as the whole Bakusquad came one by one in your room waiting for the tea to be spilled. 

-Mina and Sero were angry since they have tried time and time again to hook you up with multiple of their friends, Bakugou didn’t care but he approved, Kaminari and Kirishima were threatening Shisnou if he ever were to break your heart. 

- “I love her you dumbasses I’m not going to hurt her!!!”

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​  @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

[parkerslatte]

Years Passed [Chapter Four]

Spencer reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Part Summary: Y/N spends time with Harper on her birthday and the day after her and Spencer enjoy a cosy evening in.

previous chapter / next chapter

Years Passed Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

***

CHAPTER FOUR: GENTLE CONVERSATIONS

The following weeks were less lonely for Y/N. Whenever Harper was at school, Y/N was either painting or meeting Spencer in the same coffee shop where they had their first meeting. Whenever the two conversed, it felt as if they were in their early twenties again, everything was just natural. Even when it was the anniversary of Owen’s death, Spencer helped her through it. He knew that Y/N would be alone so he invited her to go out for coffee. Although Y/N decided to spend the day with her parents when Harper was at school, she appreciated Spencer’s gesture immensely. 

By the time Harper’s birthday rolled around, Y/N was feeling a lot better. With the help of Spencer and her family, she managed to get through the anniversary of Owens’ death without a single tear shed. Y/N was extremely grateful for this, never did she want to be down on Harper’s birthday and luckily this year she never had to force a smile once. 

When Harper ran into Y/N’s room the morning of her birthday, she was greeted to the sight of an empty bed causing a frown to appear on the young girl’s face. 

“Mum?” She yelled out.

“Come to the living room sweetheart.” Y/N called out. 

Harper immediately left Y/N’s room and ran to the living room. A smile stretched across the young girl’s face at the sight. 

“Happy Birthday!” Everyone chorused.

Y/N was standing at the front of the group with a wide smile on her face. Harper ran over to her mother and wrapped her arms around her torso. Leaning her head down, Y/N pressed a kiss to the top of Harper’s head.

“Happy birthday sweet girl,” Y/N mumbled just so Harper could hear it, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Harper muttered back, breaking away from the hug so she could give hugs to everyone else in the room.

As the day progressed and Harper began opening all of her birthday presents, they mainly consisted of different art supplies from her family members, knowing that the little girl had already began to follow in her mothers footsteps. As Y/N watched her daughter opening all of her presents she only wished that one person could be there.

Despite Y/N moving on from Owen a few years ago, she still longed for him to be there for Harper’s birthday. Y/N remembered when Owen didn’t come back from the hospital the night he died. Y/N remembered the constant screaming when Harper must’ve realised that her father wasn’t coming back. She was still incredibly young and didn’t understand much but she was still smart enough to know that her dad was no longer around. 

“Y/N!” Her mother said, snapping her out of her daydream. 

“What?” Y/N asked, momentarily confused.

“I said that me and your father should be on our way,” Her mother said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine.” Y/N replied.

The look her mother sent back was one of disbelief, “Come with me, I’m sure your father can keep Harper entertained for a bit.”

Y/N followed her mother through to the kitchen where they sat down around the dining table.

“So tell me what’s wrong?” her mother said.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Y/N said.

“I haven’t been your mother for thirty-four years for nothing,” Her mother said, “I know when you lie to me.”

Y/N let out a small sigh, “I was just thinking about Owen, I just wish he was here to see Harper grow up.” 

Her mother reached across the table and gently took Y/N’s hand in her own, “If you ever need to talk to me, I’m always a phone call away.”

Y/N shook her head, “I’ll be okay, it’s just really this time of year. Although this year has been better, with you helping me through it, and Melanie, and Spencer-”

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” Her mother cut her off.

Y/N nodded in confirmation, “Yeah, he came to question me about my neighbour because she was kidnapped,” Y/N began to explain, “He called me to tell me that she was okay and I guess that we’ve just been hanging out.”

“I didn’t know he still worked for the FBI.” her mother said.

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, thirteen years.”

There was a small pause before her mother’s next comment, “Is he still attractive?”

“Mom!” Y/N exclaimed.

“What? I’m only asking.” Her mother put her hands up in defense.

“I mean I suppose…” Y/N trailed off.

“So that means yes.” 

“No it does not!”

“Again, I’ve been your mother for thirty-four years, I know when you lie,” Her mother said, “I always liked Spencer.”

“Well you didn’t like him after we broke up and I told you the reason.” Y/N said.

“Yeah but that only lasted a few weeks,” Her mother said, “I missed our weekly reading sessions after that.”

Y/N shook her head in amusement, “Can we stop talking about my ex-boyfriend please?”

“You’re the one who mentioned him.” Her mother said as they stood up and began a slow walk back into the living room.

“I mentioned him briefly, you’re the one who cut me off and started the conversation about him.” Y/N defended herself with a small chuckle.

Her mother laughed with her before reaching out and gently holding her elbow, keeping Y/N in place, “But in all seriousness Y/N, please talk to me, Melanie or even Spencer if you begin to feel down.”

“I will, I promise you that.”

***

After Y/N and Harper bid goodbye to Y/N’s mother and father, the two flopped down on the couch. Harper rested her head against Y/N’s shoulder while Y/N rested her’s on top of Harper’s. 

“Mum?” Harper spoke up.

“Yeah?” 

“You didn’t get me a present.” Harper said.

“How do you know that I didn’t?” Y/N questioned.

“Because I didn’t open a present from you.” Harper replied.

“That’s because it’s not out here, it’s in my closet,” Y/N said, “It’s quite big so I didn’t want to bring it out. Hiding it in my room was more than enough trouble.”

“Can I open it now?” Harper questioned.

“I suppose.” Y/N said with a smile as Harper jumped up from the couch, practically dragging Y/N up with her.

As they entered Y/N told Harper to sit on the bed and close her eyes, “Now it isn’t exactly wrapped because I had no clue how to wrap it and I thought it would come in a box and it didn’t.”

Y/N opened her closet revealing her present to Harper, “You can open your eyes now.”

Harper opened her eyes and gasped once she saw what the present was, “Are you serious?”

“I mean it’s here isn’t it?” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“Thank you!” Harper said, throwing her arms around Y/N. 

The present Y/N bought for Harper was an easel just like hers. Harper had always wanted one like Y/N but she always refused, deeming the easel too expensive for Harper to have her own. However a couple of weeks ago Y/N found the same one she uses at a discounted price so she had to buy it.

“I have no idea where we can put it though,” Y/N said, sitting down on her bed while Harper looked at the easel, “But I was thinking that as we only use the spare room for storage, we can clean it out and make it into our own little art studio.”

Harper gasped, “Can we?”

“If you want,” Y/N said, “We can start cleaning it out tomorrow if you want. We can get a good chunk of it done before you go to Melanie and Toby’s for a sleepover.”

Harper jumped on the bed and tackled Y/N in a hug. A wide smile spread across Y/N’s features as the two lay there. Y/N was so happy to have Harper in her life.

***

The following day, her and Harper were in comfy clothes as they began to sort through everything in the spare room, filtering through what was junk and what wasn’t. There was a lot of junk. 

“Can we keep this?” Harper questions.

“What are you going to do with a light up lightsaber that doesn’t even light up?” Y/N questions.

“I don’t know.” Harper says.

“Exactly, put it in the trash pile.” Y/N says before her phone starts to ring.

“I’m just going to take this call, don’t sneak anything out of the trash pile when I’m gone.” Y/N warned.

As she walked out of the room and into her living room, she checked the caller ID. It was Spencer. She answered the call with no hesitation.

“Hey Spence.” Y/N said happily.

“Hey.” Spencer greeted and Y/N could practically hear the smile on his face.

“So what’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you wanted to go and get coffee? We haven’t seen each other for a few days so I thought we could meet up.” Spencer asked, although Y/N could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Oh, I’m sorry Spence but I’m with Harper right now.” Y/N said.

“Oh of course, don’t worry about it then, maybe we can meet up another time.” Spencer said.

Y/N thought for a second. She did want to see Spencer. The last time she had seen him was about a week ago because he was working on a case out of state. They two exchanged a few phone calls and texts but that was the only communication they had. 

“Maybe we don’t have to go for coffee,” Y/N said, “Harper is being picked up to go to a sleepover at six so maybe we can go and get dinner or something like that?”

“That sounds great,” Spencer said, the happiness evident in his tone once again, “What time?”

“Well it depends on what you want for dinner,” Y/N said, “We could go to a restaurant, or you could maybe come here and we can order in and watch a movie?”

“I like the latter option.” Spencer said.

Y/N smiled, “So do I. That means we can have a relaxing evening in.”

“It’s a date,” Spencer said, “Um, I didn’t mean like a date, I meant it like two friends hanging out.” The panic in his voice only increased.

“I’ll see you later Spencer.” Y/N said with a chuckle.

“I’ll see you too Y/N.” Spencer said before Y/N hung up the phone, a small smile creeping onto her face.

***

After Y/N bid goodbye to Harper for the night she couldn’t help herself but look down at her appearance. She was wearing paint stained clothes and her hair was a mess. Looking at the clock on her wall, Spencer would be arriving in less than an hour. Y/N didn’t know why but she wanted to make herself look at least a little presentable. Flipping through her wardrobe she came across a dress that she had only worn a couple of times but it was the most comfortable dress she had probably ever worn in her life.

After getting changed to make herself look presentable, she scans the house. It wasn’t necessarily messy, more of organised clutter. The minimal bit of tidying she did before Spencer arrived was pushing her easel back towards the wall so it was out of the way and re arranged the pillows on the couch so it looked comfortable and inviting. 

As soon as Y/N placed the final pillow there was a knock on her door. Straightening out her dress, she headed over to the door. She smiled as she opened it and she was greeted by the smiling face of Spencer Reid. He looked a lot more casual than she had seen him whenever they met up. He was simply wearing a black sweater and jeans and a jacket on top - something she didn’t think she had ever seen on him.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted as he stepped aside to allow him into her house, “Make yourself at home. I’m sorry about the clutter, I tidied up the best I could.”

“It’s fine, my apartment is probably worse.” Spencer said, taking a seat on the couch.

“I wasn’t sure what you wanted for dinner so I held off on ordering until you got here,” Y/N said taking a seat next to him on the couch, “I was thinking chinese if that’s something you wanted?”

“It’s perfectly fine with me.” Spencer replied.

After ordering, the two put  a movie on while they waited for the food to turn up. As they were sat on the couch Y/N couldn't help but find everything about the situation familiar.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Y/N spoke up, turning her attention away from the movie.

“What?” Spencer questioned.

“Every date night we ever had when we first started dating because neither of us had any money.” Y/N said.

Spencer chuckled, “Yeah it does. And I swear that we watched the same three movies over and over again.”

“That’s only because you were picky.” Y/N said, smiling.

Spencer placed his hand over his chest, looking offended, “I was not!”

“You so were!” Y/N said, “You would pick out every inconsistency and explain why certain things wouldn’t work or how they didn’t make sense.”

“That’s because they didn’t make sense,” Spencer said, “I was only pointing out something that should’ve been pointed out while making the movie.”

Y/N sighed and shook her head playfully, “You sure were a romantic weren’t you Spencer Reid.”

Spencer blushed slightly as there was a knock at the door. Y/N got up to get the food and handed the delivery person the money, plus some extra as a tip. 

“I’ll pay you back for my food.” Spencer said.

Y/N waved him off, “No you don’t have to,” Y/N said, “This just means that next time dinner’s on you.” 

Placing the food down on the coffee table in front of the couch, Y/N stood back up, “let me just go and get something, I’ll be back in a moment.”

Heading into her kitchen, she grabbed two wine glasses out of the cupboard and a bottle of wine. As she made her way back into the living room, Spencer had sorted their food out so it was all set out in front of them on the coffee table.

“So we didn’t order drinks but I have a bottle of wine and two glasses,” Y/N says, “If you don’t want wine I can get you something else.”

“Wine is perfectly fine.” Spencer said as Y/N handed him a glass. 

As she poured the two glasses, she couldn’t help but begin to feel like this was becoming more and more of a date. From the way they were positioned on the couch, every time either of them moved their legs would brush against one another.

“Did you know that Back to the Future was almost not called Back to the future?” Spencer spoke up.

“What was it nearly called?” Y/N asked out of genuine interest.

“Spaceman from Pluto.” Spencer answered.

Y/N let out a loud laugh, “That cannot be true!”

“Look it up.” Spencer said

“I don’t think I need to, you always know the weirdest facts,” Y/N said, “And I love it when you share them.”

Spencer smiled slightly while taking a sip of his wine, “I’m glad you like to listen, usually people tell me to stop.”

“I don’t see why,” Y/N said, “I love hearing you ramble on, I learn things while you talk about something you are excited about. It’s a win win situation really.”

Spencer smiled before he turned back to the television screen and continued watching the movie. 

*** 

Once all of their food was finished, the two remained on the couch as the credits to the movie played but neither of them made the move to stop it. Both of them were on their third glass of wine and they were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had consumed. Finishing off the remainder of her wine, Y/N slumped back against the couch.

During the night, Y/N and Spencer found themselves inching closer and closer to one another. So much so that the sides of their bodies were pressed up against one another. Tucking her legs underneath her, Y/N pressed her body further against Spencer’s as they sat in a comfortable silence on the couch. 

Y/N wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol acting or not but Spencer wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his side so her head now rested upon his chest. 

“Your sweater is really soft.” Y/N commented, giggling slightly.

“That’s why I wore it.” Spencer replied. 

“Where did you get it? I wanna get one.” Y/N said.

“I don’t know, I got it years ago.” Spencer said, his hand brushing lightly up and down her arm.

“I might just have to steal yours then.” Y/N said. 

“No,” Spencer protested, “It’s my favourite sweater.”

Y/N positioned her head so she could look at Spencer, “Then you should wear it more often, it looks really good on you.”

Spencer blushed at her compliment, “Really?”

“Really,” Y/N said, “You just look so cuddly in it.” She moved her arms so they were now wrapped around Spencer’s torso as she attempted to pull him even closer to her.

Spencer looked down at her with a soft smile on his face, “I missed you.”

“What?” Y/N asked.

“The first time we went out for coffee I realised how much I missed talking to you,” Spencer says, “It’s been thirteen years but it felt like we were both in our early twenties again.”

“I missed you too Spence,” Y/N said, “The first few months after I left I missed you so much and there were multiple times where I wanted to call you but I stopped myself. After I moved to England and met Owen I guess any type of feeling I had for you disappeared. But now, I’m glad that we’re friends again.”

“Me too,” Spencer said, lips brushing her forehead, “I’m glad you’re in my life again, this time I don’t plan on letting you leave too easily.”

“I wasn’t planning on leaving you again Spencer Reid,” Y/N said, “Once you become my friend, it’s hard to push me away.”

“Good, because I don’t want to push you away,” Spencer said, letting out a yawn, “But I should get home now.”

“No,” Y/N protested, “Stay here. It’s late anyway and I’m pretty sure we are both quite tipsy now so you shouldn’t go.”

“Okay,” Spencer said, giving in too easily, “Where can I sleep?”

“Well currently the guest room isn’t a guest room anymore and this couch is too small for you so you can take my bed.” Y/N said.

“No,” Spencer said, “I’ll take the couch.”

“No,” Y/N said, “You’re a guest, take my bed.”

“I forgot how stubborn you can be.” Spencer mumbled.

“Why don’t we both take my bed?” Y/N offered.

“Only if you don’t mind.” Spencer says.

“Of course I don’t,” Y/N said, “It can be like a sleepover. Harper’s at a sleepover now you’re sleeping over.”

Spencer let out a quiet laugh before the two stood up from the couch. He followed Y/N through to her bedroom as she immediately began to strip off her dress which made Spencer evert his eyes immediately.

Y/N didn’t know where her sudden confidence came from but she turned around to Spencer, “This is nothing you’ve never seen before.” She joked. 

Getting changed into a large t-shirt, Y/N crawled into her bed. Spencer still sat on the edge looking around hesitantly.

“Well are you going to lie down or not?” Y/N questioned, “And are you seriously going to sleep in jeans.”

“I don’t have anything else.” Spencer said.

“Are you wearing boxers?” Y/N asked.

“Yes.”

“Good enough.”

“Are you sure that you’ll be comfortable with that?” Spencer asked.

“Yeah it's fine Spencer,” Y/N said, “No take your damn jeans off and join me in bed because I want to feel your sweater again.”

Spencer smiled before taking off his jeans and getting into bed next to Y/N, something that seemed so familiar yet so distant. As soon as he lied down, Y/N immediately cuddled up to him. 

“This is okay right?” Y/N asked.

“It's perfectly fine.” Spencer mumbled, getting comfortable with Y/N in his arms.

“Goodnight Spence.” 

“Goodnight Y/N.”

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[codename-adler]

foxes + onesies (9/9)

based off of that one post i saw and don’t remember, where people once caught Allison wandering around Fox Tower in a giraffe onesie, and i absolutely melted for her. here is the Foxes’ journey to getting a onesie each!

Kevin

every Fox has bad days

some bad days begin with a specific feeling

when Andrew feels ghost hands as he wakes up, when he feels his body too tight for his bones, or hid bones too big for his body

when Neil feels every sound like a knife to his skin, when the scars on his face feel like phantom pains, when he feels a grown man moves too fast, too close to him

when Allison feels jeans cling too much to her thighs, when her shirt brushes too much on her abdomen, when she feels the food she ate resting in her stomach

some bad days begin with a specific date

when it’s the anniversary of Tilda’s death, and Aaron cannot be in the same room as Andrew, no matter how far they’ve come

when it’s the anniversary the Boyds’ divorce, and Matt can’t leave Dan’s side for one second, no matter how strong their relationship is

when it’s the anniversary of Mary’s death, of Evermore, of Nathaniel’s last birthday, of Baltimore, and Neil can’t take a single look at himself in the mirror, no matter how many times Andrew worships his face with his mouth and his fingers

or, when it’s the anniversary of Kayleigh Day’s death, and nobody remembers, not even Wymack, and Kevin is all alone with this grief that is other, unlike any other he carries everyday, unlike anything he can compare to, and he doesn’t know how to feel anymore

Kevin vividly remembers that day, and he sees it luring around the corner as August approaches

but this time, there is no more Riko to worry about, no more mafia to be scared of, no more Ravens to antagonize him, no more Master to punish him for even attempting to grieve every year

and no more alcohol to make him forget

Kevin quit drinking the day they won championship, they day Riko was killed died

it’s been a year and a half, now, and Kevin still wants to drink the minute things get hard mentally

(it’s also been a year and a half since the Foxes started getting onesies, but it doesn’t feel like it’s been that long, and only Allison remembers that summer where it all started)

so when Kevin enters his bad days, his bad weeks, the Foxes are used to his mood swinging back and forth between Queen of Assholery and Feral Fox

but Kevin isn’t

he isn’t used to feeling all of this, to always think, and think, and think, until everything inside his head is as loud as the outside, until it’s all too much

yet he’s still expected to go on

still supposed to function, to perform, to be a decent human being when he’s not even sure he even feels human anymore

and so when Kevin snaps, the Foxes are supposed to be used to it

they’re not

nobody is

it’s summer practice

the 9 Foxes came in early, before the two new recruits arrive

Kevin is in the middle of yelling at Neil, who is very much yelling back at him

there’s that moment very full of testosterone where each of them throw away their gloves and helmets and sticks

they’re an inch from each other’s face and then Kevin suddenly… stops

he completely stops

his face goes blank, his feet move him back, his arms go slack

he looks at Neil, and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could find an answer to a question he doesn’t know he’s asking

Neil, who has never learned to watch his mouth after all the trouble it got him into, keeps tearing into Kevin

Kevin keeps backing up and Neil keeps pushing further

but apart from his backwards movement, Kevin doesn’t react

pure apathy doesn’t suit him nearly as well as it did Andrew

the other Foxes are so silent, that between two of Neil’s breaths, they can all hear him whisper

“Stop.”

but Neil doesn’t hear him, or doesn’t want to

it gets so out of control, even Wymack has to step in, on the court, when he sees Kevin so unresponsive

it gets so bad, eventually Neil, too, stops his yelling and just looks at Kevin

and he looks, and looks, and looks…

as if he could understand the question Kevin is asking an answer for with his pleading, green eyes

“Stop… Just- stop. I can’t- anymore… “

Kevin shakes his head and looks at the floor as hatred and hurt grip his guts

he takes another step back

suddenly he jerks his head back up and looks at Neil

“I hate you. God, I hate all of you.”

he looks at all his Foxes

then leaves

Kevin Day leaves the court

behind his back, he doesn’t see Matt holding back a furious yet teary-eyed Dan

he doesn’t see Renee leaving her goal to join Andrew’s side, her big racquet blocking his way

he doesn’t see Nicky putting his hand on Neil’s shoulder, squeezing in empathy

he doesn’t see Allison throwing away her racquet against the plexiglass wall with all that she’s got, fuming and hiding her tears

he doesn’t see Wymack matching over to Neil, a whole speech ready to give Neil his piece of mind

and he certainly doesn’t see Aaron collapsing to the ground, his hands holding his head and gripping his hair, his breaths shallow, his jaw clenched shut, his eyes dry yet red-rimmed

but from behind Kevin’s back, none of them see him either

they can’t see him losing his breath as he starts running away

they can’t see him clenching and unclenching his left hand

and they certainly can’t see him crying

the week that follows is undeniably tense between all the Foxes

that week also coincides with a lot of events

there’s the new Foxes’ arrival

there’s the start of classes

there’s the mandatory psych session with Betsy before Exy season starts

and there’s August 27th

Mom’s accident

Kevin remembers the day vividly, he truly does

he remembers because the week of the accident, he was supposed to start school for the first time, on September 1st

he had picked his outfit for the first day, he had new red Exy-themed shoes, he had even planned the lunch he wanted to have that day in his lunchbox (spaghetti squash casserole. yeah, weird kid.)

on August 27th, Mom didn’t come home

on August 27th, he went to the Moriyama property

on August 27th, he settled into a weirdly well-accommodated room that fit both him and Riko

on September 1st, he woke up with Riko and they prepared for their first day

on September 1st, Kevin wore his planned outfit, put on his red shoes

on September 1st, Kevin did not have spaghetti squash casserole

she left him nothing but an aversion for squash, red shoes, and Exy

which brings us as to why, on August 27th, as all the team is mandated to talk an hour with Betsy Dobson, Kevin Day volunteers to go first (with Aaron volunteering to go second and be the designated driver for the pair)

none of the Foxes have really talked to Kevin since the previous week’s outburst

Kevin has no other outlet for this painful day

it’s either talk to Betsy, or ruin 496 days of sobriety with one vodka bottle

the only words exchanged between Kevin and Aaron, on the drive to Reddin Medical Center, are, surprisingly, from Kevin

“Somebody should get you a new goddamn car.”

he doesn’t elaborate further than that, but Aaron looks at him strangely

his car really is garbage, though

once arrived at their destination, Kevin doesn’t wait for Aaron and bursts in Betsy’s office without warning

it takes at least half an hour of Betsy talking before Kevin gives up his silence

everything was already there, he just had to open his mouth and let his words fall

Kevin: I’ve been sober for 496 days. I’ve been thinking about my Mom’s anniversary for the past few weeks. That’s today, now. And last Friday, I told Neil, then the whole team, that I hated them. Care to unpack that for me?

Betsy: I can help you sort some things out, of course, Kevin. But this is your baggage. I’m afraid I can’t do this without your help. Why don’t you tell me more about this hatred you feel towards your teammates?

Kevin: I dont. Hate them. I don’t… I hate what they do to me. How they treat me. Their double standards. How they forget, how they dismiss. Mind you, I’m well aware of my asshole status. I know I am. But them… they’re… they’re mean. Vicious. They cut and stab and don’t care about what’s underneath. They don’t care that I helped them get the title of Champions. They don’t care that I was there every step of the way, that I was right there beside them when we played the Ravens, when we won. They don’t care that Riko died, that he once broke my hand, that I was legally kidnapped, that I went through hell and still lived to walk on my own two feet. They don’t care that I, too, once had a mom. They don’t care that my Mom died. They don’t care. To them, I’m still just a cunt. It’s unbearable. They don’t give a shit and I’m so, so tired, Betsy. I’m not asking for much. I just want… I want- I want them to let me breathe. I want them to realize that, I’m just like them. I’m a Fox. I’m a Fox as much as they are. I wake up everyday, and feel all this weight on my shoulders, in my stomach, on my heart, but I carry on anyways, and I don’t know why, but I do, just like them. Is that so hard to grasp? Is that so hard to accept? What am I doing wrong, Betsy?

Betsy: Oh, Kevin…

the rest of the session passes in a blur

Kevin talks about how every time he takes a photograph, he thinks of Kayleigh, of how brightly she smiles in all the photos Wymack has of her, of how he wishes he could take pictures of her with his own camera

Kevin talks about how every strong woman in the Irish folklore he reads about wears Kayleigh’s face

Kevin talks about how he thought Thea had been a bit like her, and how, in the end, she hadn’t been at all, she was her own woman, a woman he didn’t know and didn’t love, and how he thought he had lost a bit of Kayleigh again when they separated

Kevin talks

he talks

and Betsy listens

when his time is up, Kevin’s voice is hoarse with exhaustion and sadness

he lets Aaron in as he decides to take a run back to Fox Tower

his mind tries to guilt him into going back to the court, but between facing the Foxes after that and isolating himself in his dorm, Kevin knows what’s best for him

he is only disturbed in the late evening, when Wymack enters the dorm

even Neil, Andrew and Nicky hadn’t come back yet

Kevin knows something is wrong

Wymack isn’t supposed to be here

Wymack: Day… Listen, son.

Kevin sits up on his bed

Wymack: Argh, I’ll cut the bullshit. It’s Abby. There’s been an accident. Her car’s fucking scrap metal now. She was brought to the hospital 45 minutes ago, I just got the call. She’s going into surgery. We’ll all visit her in the morning.

Not again

Not Abby

What the fuck is this life?

Wymack: Number Seven wants to see you now. Don’t ask me why, I don’t wanna know. I’ll let her in, don’t make me regret this. Sleep good, son. I’ll see you tomorrow.

he opens the door, takes one last look at Kevin’s tense form, and leaves as Allison comes in

she’s wearing her giraffe onesie tied at the waist, with an oversized WALKER 09 t-shirt

she stands in front of Kevin until he looks up at her

Allison: Scoot over. We’re watching The Crown.

and Kevin, dumbfounded, lets her and moves

he finds himself quite intrigued by the storyline, enough to only worry about Abby with his fingers, fiddling with one of the giraffe’s horns

after the third or fourth episode, Allison starts to talk, eyeing Kevin’s fingers playing with her onesie

Allison: Wanna know the latest gossip? Even Andrew has a onesie, now. God, I can’t believe this is a sentence that exists. Andrew Minyard owns a fucking onesie. Do you know what that makes you?

Kevin stays silent, eyes fixed somewhere not quite on Ally’s laptop screen

Allison: That makes you the only Fox without one.

Kevin: Oh, so now I’m a Fox? Didn’t seem that way earlier. Or, like, ever.

the dealer chooses her next words very carefully

Allison: Just because we hadn’t seen it yet, just because we were too busy stuffing our heads up our asses, doesn’t mean you weren’t a Fox… I know, I know. Hard to feel like one when the others give you shit non-stop. Been there, done that. And now I’ve done it to you, too, and I’m… Sorry. We’re dysfunctional, there’s no changing that. But- We can do better. We’ll try, promise. I think you’ve made quite an impression on Betsy today, ‘cause we all received a good talk from her during our sessions. I mean, don’t expect Andrew running in to apologize, but, you know… Something about Betsy turning severe makes you re-evaluate your life choices. We’ll do better, Day.

Kevin looks at her, then

really looks at her

and nods

yet just as he turns his attention back to the screen, Allison leaves the Netflix page and googles “onesie adult”

Kevin: Oh, no. Absolutely not. Nope.

Allison: Oh, yes, yes, yessss!

but then, of course, there’s a knock at the door, and Allison gets up, opens the door, lets the person in, whispers something, and leaves

just like that

and oh

It’s Aaron

Aaron: So… Allison tells me you’re finally getting yourself one of those stupid pajamas too?

Kevin: I am not. What are you doing here anyway? The others will be back soon, I assume.

Aaron: Well, it’s my shift…

Kevin: Your what now?

Aaron: No, it’s not like that! We just… We thought you’d want some space because of… today… But then Abby… We didn’t want you to be alone.

Kevin: Really. Who’s “we”?

Aaron: The proud Palmetto State Foxes’ Exy team. All of them. You know, Dan, Matt, Renee, Allison, Andrew and Neil, Nicky… Me.

once again, Kevin can’t help but stare, deeply surprised

Aaron: Andrew and the others will be back for the whole night, but for now, it’s my turn. I wanted to take the first “watch”, but Allison said she had business to do with you. And I’m not getting in the way of that woman.

Kevin honest-to-God snorts

Kevin: If by “business” she meant bullying me into buying this onesie shit, then you should have gotten in her way. I’m not doing that. It’s fucking dumb.

Aaron: Hey!

Kevin: Aaron Minyard, don’t tell me you’ve participated in this madness…

Aaron: So what if I have? It wasn’t exactly on purpose, but I got one. And you don’t. So really, who’s dumb here?

Kevin: What is it??

Aaron: Not telling you.

Kevin: C’mon…

Aaron: Nope. You can’t bribe me. I’m not telling you shit. However, what I can telling you, is that it feels kinda wrong that we all have a pajama and you don’t…

Kevin: Oh my God, fine! What did the others get?

Aaron: Well, besides Ally’s giraffe, we got a tiger, a dinosaur, a teddy bear, you’ve seen Nicky’s unicorn nonsense, and I’m not quite sure about Andrew’s… Oh, and Neil’s is a fox, obviously. That predictable dumbass.

Kevin: Okay, well, I want a fox too.

Aaron: No, Kevin, you can’t.

Kevin: What? Why not!?

Aaron: Because. Neil’s already got a fox. Do you want to be a copycat AND a predictable dumbass?

and so until 1 AM, Kevin and Aaron bicker about each of Kevin’s suggestions (a Palmetto Foxes onesie, a USC Trojans onesie, an Irish-themed onesie, a white fox onesie, a gray fox onesie, and so on…)

when Andrew, Neil and Nicky come back into the dorm, Kevin’s almost laid all the way down on his bed, his head resting on Aaron’s elbow, as Aaron is sitting right next to him, laptop propped on a pillow and his fingers scrolling away

Aaron looks at Andrew, sighs, and looks at Kevin

they nod to each other, before Aaron gets up to go back to his dorm

Kevin sits up correctly when Aaaron is gone and Andrew approaches

Kevin pretends not to notice and googles one more idea, “brown fox onesie”

as he scrolls down and down and down, Andrew looks over his shoulder

and points at one picture

Andrew: That one. Now go to bed. We’re getting up at ass-o’clock tomorrow.

for the third time this evening, Kevin is shocked

he does look at Andrew’s pick attentively, though, and decides to go with it

that night, even if images of Abby covered in blood plague him for at least an hour, Kevin falls asleep to the memory of Aaron’s skin against his cheek, which somehow translates into dreams of Kayleigh resting both her hands on his cheeks as they sit in a field of wildflowers

a couple of weeks later, Kevin doesn’t tell the team his onesie has arrived

but he is forced to admit it when, for Halloween, they organize a huge party for themselves only, where they decided to wear their pajamas as costumes for the night

Kevin feels so stupid in his outfit

he even had to buy a LARGE because he’s so fucking tall

but it still feels… comfy… warm… not so bad…

maybe this can work for him…

it’s only when he steps into the girls’ living room that a problem arises

Aaron: What the fuck is this.

Kevin: Hum… A brown fox? Technically, Neil’s is orange, so you can’t shit on me!

Aaron: That- That’s not a fox, Kevin! What the fuck.

Kevin: Okay, well what are you then?? A mutant mouse?

Aaron: What are you- Oh my God, you don’t know what Pokemons are.

with that, Aaron turns around and yells for his twin

Aaron: ANDREW JOSEPH FUCKING MINYARD. YOU DID THIS ON PURPOSE, DIDN’T YOU? YOU BASTARD.

he storms off yelling

Kevin only reunites with Aaron at the end of the night, on the girls’ balcony, both sober

Kevin: You know, for someone who pushed me so much to do this stupid thing, you’re not being very nice about it. I know you wanted me to be “original” or whatever, but it’s not like I look like Neil! Why are you so upset?

Aaron: Kevin. It’s not a fox.

Kevin: Oh for God sake’s Aaron, you-

Aaron: It’s a Pokemon, Kevin. They’re like little monsters, kind of, and it’s a videogame, but there’s anime, manga, and collectible cards and… I used to- I used to collect those. Before. I lost them, now, but see this? This is one of them. It’s the main Pokemon, actually. His name’s Pikachu.

Kevin: Okay… Who am I, then?

Aaron: You… You’re Eevee.

Kevin: And what’s “Eevee”…?

Aaron: Pikachu’s girlfriend.

and oh.

Oh.

Kevin: Andrew didn’t tell me… The little fucker. I thought- Sorry. I didn’t mean to be another pawn in one of Andrew’s little games. Why did he do that to you?

Aaron: I think you know why.

Kevin looked at Aaron

Aaron looked at Kevin

Kevin: Fuck.

Aaron: Yeah, that.

Kevin: What?

Aaron: Nothing!

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin slowly invaded Aaron’s space until his back touched the railing, and placed one hand on each side of the backliner

Aaron looked up at Kevin

Kevin looked down at Aaron

Kevin: Okay?

Aaron: Okay.

and Kevin grabbed Aaaron by the hoodie of his pajama, and pulled him close, closer, closer, closer, until their lips met, at last

it was a long-awaited kiss, a careful kiss, a kiss of home and yes and oh and warmth and safe

Kevin reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on top of Aaron’s, knowing they have very little time before the other Foxes found them snogging on the balcony like a goddamn cliché

Kevin: Aaron.

Aaron: Kevin.

Kevin: I’m gonna ask you something stupid, and you can’t punch me for it, okay?

Aaron: Fine, okay.

Kevin: Do you want to be the Pikachu… to my Eevee?

Aaron: YOU FUCKING MORON!

and with that, Kevin burst out laughing, as if the Foxes’ attention wasn’t already on them the second Aaron started yelling

Allison and Matt knowingly started whooping with their beers raised for a toast

Dan was facepalming hard, shaking her head, but smiling nonetheless

Renee smiled her genuine, angelic smile while clapping Nicky on the back as he choked on his drink

Neil, arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with contentment

and Andrew. Andrew had no reaction at all. at all.

he was looking at his nails, no knife in sight, no fucks given

which, in Andrew’s language, meant everything

and so that October 31st was one for the books, the books about the good days, the good feelings, the good memories

because the Foxes had those, too

Kevin Day had good days

Aaron Minyard had good days

Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker had good days

Dan Wilds and Matt Boyd had good days

Nicky Hemmick had good days

Neil Josten had good days

even Andrew Minyard had good days

God knows they deserve them

these onesies, as silly, as stupid, as corny, as childish as they may be, were a proof of that

a proof that the Palmetto State Foxes could be better, could do better, and could get better

[herstarburststories]

Merry... Birthday?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: You love christmas, but Dean doesn’t. Yet, he might make an exception for your birthday this year.

A/N: This one goes for @negans-lucille-tblr​ ‘s secret fic exchange. My secret Santa was @katymacsupernatural​. Hey, honey! I hope you enjoy this and happy birthday! You deserve double presents, so here’s mine. All mistakes are mine!

Divider by @talesmaniac89 !

You loved Christmas.

It was probably a nostalgic longing for your long gone urban life. Just in the same way you’d still catch yourself looking through the news for election results or feel your stomach twist if you didn’t eat homemade food at least twice a week. You were dead to the government and certainly spent more on the road than in a home. Besides, you had met up with God enough times to know him. All the encounters and screaming and unapologetic abandonment should make you want to throw any baby Jesus against a wall or even climb on a Christmas tree just to shout about all the hoaxes so perfectly molded in patterns through our brains like braids.

Yet, something about you loved christmas. 

The pretty lights always shining, it didn’t matter where you go. For once, all the city-- everything would be entirely made of light. Their incandescent glow always companishing each person, either it was in an once treacherous alley or only to make the kids' grin bigger as they watched them among the busy streets with wide eyed gazes. The confusion in the kitchen that often ended up with huffs bursting into chuckles between the smell of meals that were too much and would make a room for leftovers for the rest of the week. How everything seemed to be made only of happiness, and nothing could ever cut through those water; all the knives were suddenly swords for kids to play and no white gun. In Christmas, a house became a kingdom for every heart. Everything was good and felt through the skin to the bone, like a single glimpse, a hidden day of what would be paradise.

That was how you were raised, at least. The Winchesters didn’t share the same mindset, no. While you grew up with decorating the tree, they were hiding bodies in the dim light. Leftovers were all through their whole year, and Christmas was described as good or not with one single criteria: snow streets. They had to take one? Annoying date. They didn’t and there was eggnog? Bearable Jesus’s birthday.

Yet, you attempted to make the bunker the more festive possible: buying a bunch of christmas lights, cookies’ ingredients and even a small nativity scene. Your attempts to enjoy the date’s niciities ended up with Sam breaking his arm after crashing on the ground because you insisted on him putting the lights in a place higher than his age, not to mention the burned cookies that looked more like tiny monsters than gingerbread men.

Your parents used to make this look so much easier.

Although the youngest Winchester understood a little more about the concept of holidays, a believer in the good until the very end, his brother didn’t share the idea. You couldn’t say you were surprised. Dean just had two barely normal christmas in his life: one when he was dying and one with Lisa and Ben. Both situations made it to his heart only to shatter from the inside.

‘’Baby Jesus?’’ Dean snorted, shaking his head at the sight of you adjusting the weird little dolls in the nativity. He placed another ruined cook in his mouth, speaking with his mouth full next: ‘’We have the son of Lucifer, guess that counts.’’

‘’Don’t say that once Jack gets home.’’ You rolled your eyes, turning to face the oldest Winchester with your hands on your hips. How could he eat that? You couldn’t even make it a bite and Sam only had half of those. ‘’And stop eating those. They are burned.’’

‘’I’ve had worse.’’ He remarked, adding another cookie to his mouth. You grimaced, wondering for a brief moment how your boyfriend could be simultaneously the guy who saved the world and a man with the taste of a five years old.

‘’Yeah. But I’m the one who has to hear you whining about your bellyache later.’’

‘’I don’t whine--’’ You arched your eyebrows at his statement, making Dean huff in agreement. ‘’That was once and because of Sam’s weird ass vegan bacon.’’

‘’You acted like you were dying.’’

‘’My tongue was!’’

‘’So get this.’’ Sam’s voice interrupted your childish argument, catching the attention of both hunters like a shiny object did to a cat. ‘’Apparently we got an earlier christmas gift.’’

‘’What is it?’’ You asked, approaching the table.

‘’Three teenagers disappeared in the forest, all personal objects left behind.’’ Sam explained as Dean scratched out his neck to glance at his brother’s computer screen. Nothing like a case in Colorado. ‘’The authorities think it’s a serial killer. But one of the girls, Kayla Wodson, said she saw a weird, skinny giant take her friends.’’

‘’Ho ho ho and three bodies.’’ Dean clapped his hands together with a wry curve of lips. ‘’Alright. Let’s hit the road-- Wait, wait, wait. Where do you think you are going?’’

You were standing beside Dean while Sam raised to his feet, ready to pack his bags. Dean, nonetheless, was quicker than his brother, soon putting himself in front of Sammy; hands protectively standing in front of the youngest’s chest to keep him from moving any further.

He shook his head with a scoff. ‘’Dude, come on.’’

‘’Not happening, Sammy. You got a broken arm.’’ You mumbled a sorry along Dean’s big brother speech, to which Sam replied with a comprehensive smile. ‘’Y/N and I take care of it.’’

‘’He’s right. Must be the first time in his life, but he is.’’ Dean turned his head, furrowing his eyebrows at you ‘’Don’t worry. It’s just a wendigo anyway. ‘’

‘’Okay. Just…’’

‘’Don’t forget the fireblazer. As if your brother would miss an opportunity to use it.’’ You scrunched up your noise, causing a chortle out of Sam while Dean commented something about grabbing the specific instrument and walked away. ‘’Maybe you could call Eileen. Ask her to help you to back some christmas cookies.’’

Sammy shook his head at your wiggling brows. ‘’That doesn’t sound as sexy for me as it does for you.’’

Dean Winchester was good with numbers.

Not the urban numerical sense of the deal, of course. He almost didn’t make it in sixth grade with useless geometry and all that, and he still used his fingers to count when he had to deal with an equation. No, his good and quick way with numbers was easier, intrinsic to his head.

How many years since mom died? Seventeen. How many people did he have to save? All of them. How many years had he left? Less than he once owned.

Hunter math was simpler, and was all he really needed since he was four years old, running from the fire with his baby brother in his arms-- which brought him to the second section of his particular geometry: birthdays and death anniversaries. Dean never, ever forgot any special date. Those were his own holidays, the only worth celebrating and remembering. His wishes, grief, and cherishment were reserved for the people he loved, not some celestial assholes who saw his life like a book.

Therefore, his mind went on a golden rush for your day as soon as the Wendigo hunt took more than you both expected. You wouldn't be able to make it home before your birthday, which would be ending shortly, a matter of two or three hours. His inner engineers were useful tonight, in his vision, useful enough to make those sappy movies jealous. While you were washing some guts and leaves away, Dean went to the nearest convenience store. His long arms nesting a bunch of stuff he never dared to touch in years. The cashier with drowsy eyes and escarlet Santa hat seemed bored with his shopping, probably because she saw an uncountable amount of people buying the same things over and over. He couldn’t blame her for the suburban exhaustion. If anything, it was a small comfort for his war orbs to see and be a part of a scene so mundane.

He hustled back to the dive motel room, singing in relief to himself once he stepped in and heard you singing Christmas Tree Farm while the water rushed in. He grimaced at himself for recognizing that Taylor Swift song. How couldn’t he? That woman was 80% of all you heard everyday. Man, he was whipped.

Tilting his head back in reality, he started organizing in clumsy manners of putting everything in place for you. His bruised hands touching so carefully the fragile ornaments to make the motel room with grubby walls and weird black stan on the floor that only seemed to grow a little more like you.

You, the woman who put up with him, who laughed at his stupid jokes, and who watched Scooby Doo, all snuggled up to him every friday. You, the woman who switched from AC/DC to Taylor Swift and then Eric Clapton. You, the one who understood his job and helped him to wash off some of the blood on his hand and never got scared of how red the water could get. You, the girl who rolled her eyes at his first attempt of flirting and now stole his french fries and kissed his lips as if he was worth being delicate with. You, his breathing, his true holiday, his only act of faith besides Sammy.

Dean pressed his teeth against his bottom lip, looking up and down his little manual work. Part of him said it was ridiculous, he surely would make a lot of fun of Sam if he did that to a chick. Yet, mostly he was proud. He wanted you to like it. It wasn’t even near to what you deserved, but it was a piece of it. It was what the Winchester could give you, and that would be hopefully, enough.

While Dean was caught in the crossroad of judging and admiring his surprise, you left the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and lips mumbling Cocaine. Your feet glued to the ground once you witnessed what was in front of you: the room was decorated with christmas lights, a tiny plastic tree on the table, right beside a pie with candle on the top and two cup of what smelled like hot cocoa.

‘’Dean…’’ Your tender tone brought him back from his traineck thoughts as he turned around to glance at you. You chortled in astonishment as he raised his eyes and said surprise! ‘’What’s this?’’

‘’Well, it’s your birthday.’’ He shrugged, scooting closer to you with a smirk. Dean smoothly wrapped his arms around your waist, yours instantly resting around his neck. ‘’In my defense, they just had christmas stuff. Blame your parents for having you close to Jesus’ special day.’’

‘’Christmas stuff include pie and not cake?’’ Your brows knitted together, a heartwarming smile on your lips as you watched his expression marked by multicolored little lights. He smelled like something was a blaze, and you knew that was for standing too close to the candle and not for burning a body this time. Small changes.

He scoffed humorously. ‘’You like pie better anyway.’’ He nodded at the carnival-like situation around you two. Dean Winchester wasn’t the kind of man who got insecure, but you could catch a perk of brand nervous hesitation as his green eyes shot you an anxious glance. ‘’Did you like it?’’

‘’I loved it.’’ You pulled cheeks dimpled with joy that was kissed by Dean’s own smiling lips. The kiss was so gentle, it was his own palpable light hearted emotion. You being happy in his arms. It had been so long since he felt he could be enough, he could make someone happy. But you were right there. As you pulled away, another short kiss was given between playful words: ‘’That’s what I call a christmas miracle.’’

‘’Shush.’’ He leaned in and pecked your lips. As Dean pulled back, he couldn’t help but watch around with the pride of Hubris. His glance went back to you, a lopsided grin on his face. God, you loved that smile. You loved that man. ‘’So I added some whiskey to the hot cocoa. We could drink some, eat the pie, and see if those lights make a good improvise rope. What do you tell me?’’

All you could do was kiss him again.

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[peaches-writes]

how to appease your asian aunties ch. 1 - christmas

description: in the immortal words of wine aunts and aunts you’re not even related to but forced to call your aunt at gatherings, ‘do you have a boyfriend?’ member: jisung / han genre: fluff, fake dating au, implied rich kids au, eventual childhood / best friends to lovers au, college au, implied fem reader (but i still used they/them pronouns) word count: 7.5k chapter warning: food, drinking, explicit language, one comment about weight note: insp by a twt meme + this is my first attempt at making a story with parents having a bigger role in them omg

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

Though you’re a semester away from graduating college, with your own circles of friends, clubmates, and close classmates, you still can’t understand why your mom and her sorority batchmates feel the need to have reunion parties every single year. Maybe it’s the product of growing connectivity in this modern age or just simply your wide age gap preventing you from having the same nostalgic feelings attending these dinners; nevertheless, ever since your mom started bringing you to these parties to socialize with her friends’ children when you were four, you've always personally found it a bit troublesome. 

They see each other at mall sales, weekend brunches, weddings, birthdays, and anniversaries all the time—a lot of them even work closely with each other. For as long as you can remember, you can’t help but endlessly wonder in this time of year: will they ever get tired of each other?

As you adjust your coat over your semi-formal attire for this year’s dinner party, you sigh in front of the full-length mirror by your house’s front doors and mentally conclude that they probably never will. This is your 19th reunion dinner now and even from meters away in the kitchen, you can hear your mom fuss to your dad and the helpers either worriedly about the desserts that everyone in the house (and your nearest restaurant branch) was forced to bake two nights ago; or excitedly about seeing her college best friend, Mrs. Hwang, even if they literally just dragged their respective families to the monthly brunch last weekend—like she always does minutes before you leave. She always sounds like a crazed woman but you know deep inside that she’s excited to see her friends again and reminisce about the same old college memories you’ve even memorized by heart now.

It’s cute and all, maybe you’ll even end up the same in a decade or so but you swear at present on the dinner menu tonight that the more you spend your first day of Christmas break attending these dinners, the more you’ll slowly lose your mind over this unofficial holiday tradition: from your mom’s dramatic ramblings at the start of the night to the prospect of spending the rest of the evening laughing off your unofficial aunts and godmothers’ unnecessary backhanded comments and trying not to get caught in the trouble the younger children make.

It really just isn’t exactly your type of scene. It’s like family Christmas parties but with more passive-aggressive internalized drama since you’re not related to any of the guests by blood.

“Y/N, dear, come along now, we’re running late!” Your mom scolds you as she approaches your direction to the double doors, carrying cupcake caddies and cake boxes with your dad and your six house helpers. She’s wearing the dress you helped pick out last month, you observe, which is another tradition of hers. Rich people and not wanting to be seen wearing the same clothes twice, you guess. “Oh dear, I need to fix my hair in the car!”

You take one last look at yourself in the mirror before sprinting to the doors and helping your dad open them. You also take a couple of boxes from one of the helpers as you all pile outside, letting everyone pass through before closing the doors behind you. 

The nine of you then head to your dad’s Ford you parked outside the house gates earlier this afternoon, loading the everything in the back of the car without much difficulty before parting ways with the helpers for tonight with the same house instructions from your mom to not wait up for the three of you.

“Bye!” Your mom waves at your helpers through the rolled down windows on the front passenger seat as your dad begins to drive away from the house. 

Once your house begins growing smaller in the distance behind you, only then does your mom attend to her hair while your dad closes all the windows and locks the doors.

You, on the other hand, lean back in your own seat, taking out your phone to pass the ten minutes travel time to one of your godmothers, Mrs. Kim’s house in the adjacent subdivision.

“Y/M/N! Y/F/N! Welcome!” Mrs. Kim greets you at her house gates with her own mini army of house helpers, kindly helping you and your parents unload your party contributions and transfer them inside her recently renovated kitchen. “Oh, Y/N! Look at you, you look so beautiful tonight!”

You smile politely through the wave of compliments and ‘oh you gained a bit of weight’ comments that follow as you try your best to not to trip over the slippery marble steps leading to the house. Contrary to what your mom has been worrying about earlier at home, you eventually discover that you’re fairly early to the party for the 19th year in a row with only half of the families already in attendance to greet you when you entered the house.

“Y/N, all the teenagers are upstairs on the second floor, by the way.” Mrs. Kim informs you once your cupcakes have been neatly organized in the caddies at the very end of the buffet table, making you cringe internally at her preferred term for you and the other older kids in the house. “Dinner is at 7:30.”

“Thank you, auntie.” You smile one last time at her before excusing yourself to go upstairs, sighing internally in relief that her son, Seungmin, has smartly gathered everyone upstairs for the third year in a row to avoid the aunts and uncles for as much as possible.

You’re not completely fond of the parties, sure, but you can’t deny that there are little parts that have unconsciously grown on you—like your unlikely band of childhood friends and your shared hatred for this particular party.

Climbing up the slippery staircase as fast as you can with a death grip on the railings, you reach the second floor in no time to be greeted by six out of the eight people you’ve sort of grown up with in these parties occupying the common area: Felix and Hyunjin having a Wii dance battle in front of the television, Seungmin and Minho having a violent game of UNO on the coffee table, and Ryujin and Yeji scrolling through their phones on the sofa before abandoning them to approach you at noticing your presence by the staircase.

“Y/N!” Ryujin calls you in as she reaches you first for a brief hug and a short exchange of compliments on each other’s outfits, as if you didn’t just meet at one of your shared class’ Christmas parties yesterday. Though all of you attend the same university, you see Ryujin the most since you’re in the same college, just in different departments. “So nice to see you again!”

“Yeah, yeah, hello to you too again.” You chuckle, more genuinely now in the company of party guests you’re actually comfortable with, before waving hello at Yeji who trails behind. 

Yeji then naturally hugs you next, pulling you a few steps away from the staircase so the two of you don’t topple over when she leans her weight on you. “Y/N, took you long enough!” She says next to your ear. “Hyunjin and I were starting to make bets if the aunties suddenly trapped you downstairs like Chan and Miyoung.”

You hug her back with equal force, a little more than you did with Ryujin, pulling away after to playfully slap her arm for the teasing comment. “I’d sell my arm first before I let that happen.” You retort as the two of you laugh. “I just helped set up desserts—mom made us do an extra two boxes of brownies and cookies this year so you better get a lot later!” 

“Of course, but only if you eat a lot of the spaghetti my mom made!” She reminds, kindly fixing your hair for you. “I missed you! You look so pretty tonight!”

Behind the two girls, the boys also greet you in scattered casual ‘hi’s and ‘hello’s before going back to their own activities. You greet them back as they acknowledge you (and even reciprocate Felix’s long-distance high five mid-dance), crossing off everyone’s names in your mental attendance list as your gaze wanders around the room.

Since Chan is busy being a grown-up and showing off his fiance downstairs, you conclude that only one person is missing among your eight friends.

“Ya, Han Jisung!” As if on cue, the missing eighth person in your list emerges from the staircase behind you as Minho calls his name. “Welcome back!” 

Jisung greets everyone back in their second wave of scattered greetings as he walks to Minho and Seungmin’s direction, purposely acknowledging you last by suddenly turning around and walking backwards to send a wave and wink your way. He almost trips over the long ruffles of the big accent carpet as he does this, making you, Yeji, and Ryujin laugh as the only witnesses.

“Oh my God.” You place a hand to your forehead in secondhand embarrassment, stifling your laughs as your best friend regains his balance and looks behind him in case anyone else saw (which, unfortunately for you, they didn’t). You can’t believe that despite missing last year’s party because of his study abroad program’s strict schedule, he still manages to do his ritual clumsy carpet accident somehow. “This dumbass, I swear.”

In front of you, Jisung only laughs it off as well. “You didn’t see that!” He adjusts his coat with one hand and scratches the nape of his neck with the other in between laughs, walking forward to you properly after with his arms extended for a hug. “Stop laughing and come here, ugly. I missed you.” 

You feign a scowl but hug him back anyway, Yeji and Ryujin slyly stepping away with knowing smiles that only you can see with Jisung’s eyes turned away. You stick your tongue out at the two girls as they abandon you and walk back to the sofa before slapping Jisung’s back harshly for the familiar insult. “Speak for yourself, you ugly. I missed you too.” You reply to his latter comment with an amused chuckle of your own. “How are you?”

“Better now that I’m seeing you in person again.” He pulls away after with his signature flirty smirk, visibly eyeing you up and down now while his hands are still on your upper arms. Though he knows such gesture irks you, especially when it comes to the aunts and uncles downstairs, Jisung is the only one among your friends confident enough to tease you this way. Knowing each other a bit longer than everyone else has its perks, he’s come to realize over the years. “Look at you, all dressed up tonight. For me?” 

“Of course I’m all dressed up tonight, it’s Chan’s engagement announcement later.” You retort, swatting his hand away to adjust your now wrinkled clothes. “You’ve known me for twenty years, already; I think it’s time to stop assuming I’ll ever dress up for you now.” 

He only shakes his head, his teasing and lighthearted mood unwavering in front of you. “Nah, I really think you dressed up for me tonight.” He insists jokingly, a hand lingering over the fabric of your coat. “If I get welcome back parties like this from you in the end, should I just do more one-year study abroad programs?” 

“And leave me to fend off the aunties every other year? I don’t think so.” You’re quick to turn down, walking pass him to rejoin your group now. Jisung naturally follows along like a lost puppy, suddenly changing his mind on joining Minho and Seungmin to follow you around now that you’ve started conversation. “You owe me for leaving me to take all the ‘I can set you up on a blind date with my godchild’ and ‘are you dating anyone’ comments last year.”

The two of you sit next to Ryujin and Yeji who, without even looking up from their phones, quickly scoot away to the other end of the big sofa which makes you send pleading looks their way while Jisung laughs and gains enough confidence to sling an arm on the sofa behind your shoulders.

Another annoying thing from this yearly reunion party is how it’s an unspoken rule in your group to leave you and Jisung alone whenever you’re engaging in your usual banter. You and Jisung are the enemies type of best friend, for God’s sake. You don’t understand how everyone (yes, even Seungmin) thinks the two of you are being cute. 

“I keep telling you, you wouldn’t get all those comments if you just tell them you’re dating someone, dummy.” Jisung returns to your conversation once you’re settled, purposely placing a suggestive emphasis on the pet name. “That’s just the most natural thing to do in front of the aunties.” 

“And who would I show them if they ask who?”

“Try me.” Jisung answers smugly, earning him an eye roll from you.

“As if.” You deadpan, leaning to his arm anyway as you take out your phone and connect to the wifi. “Given your new fuckboy look to the aunties, I’m pretty sure they’ll see past that kind of bullshit, especially Yeji and Hyunjin’s mom and Minho’s mom. They’d be more convinced if I tell them I’m dating Seungmin instead and he’s already in a relationship.”

You don’t even have to look to your side to see Jisung pouting as he whines in complaint, his free hand going up to your side to shake your arm. “That hurts.” He dramatically points to his chest when you show the slightest hint of turning his way. “And having Bumble on your phone isn’t being a fuckboy, I don’t even use it to get dates.” 

“That’s not what the aunties think.” You point out, knowing just how much your aunts and uncles easily misunderstand concepts from your generation like social and dating apps. “I’m telling you, I prefer you swaying the conversation for me over you pretending to be my boyfriend.”

Jisung is quiet for a moment and you’re convinced that he’s decided on ending the conversation at this point until he suddenly twists his body towards you and challenges, "Do you wanna bet? Test out that theory?” He smirks again. “It’d really spice up this party, besides Chan’s announcement, of course.”

Only then do you look up at him since you sat down, deadpanning, “No.” 

“Come on, it’d be really interesting!” He taps you on your shoulders with a laugh, a combination of habits he always does whenever he’s trying to involve you in his usual trouble-making antics. “My mom will finally get off my back for always nagging me as a ‘fuckboy’ and our mom’s sorority friends will finally get off yours for not dating.” 

“You’re crazy.” You comment, crossing your arms in front of him. “I think I’ll just re-download Bumble too and bring someone to the party next year.” 

“You’re really taking too much jabs at my heart right now,” He sighs with a contrasting smirk. “and we’re not even past dinner yet.” 

“Because you deserve it,” You chuckle back at him, pretending to punch him on his stomach which he reacts to dramatically. “I’ve always known you’re a dumbass but that’s the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard from you.” 

Stubborn, he shakes his head in disagreement as you speak. “Nah, nah, we’ll see about that.”

And as if on cue, Mrs. Kim emerges from the staircase and announces that dinner is ready, luring everyone out of the second floor before you can even ask Jisung what he means with his words. 

“Ya, Han Jisung!” You call for him when he sprints to Seungmin’s side when the latter begins leading everyone downstairs. 

You try catching up to him but the staircase becomes too narrow for you to squeeze past everyone, forcing you to walk with Minho and Ryujin at the back of the group. With this, Jisung then takes this as an opportunity to look up at you from the turn on the staircase and send you another wink, a more confident one this time since he doesn’t trip after. 

Your ‘age group,’ as the aunts differentiate you from the younger children, hogs the extensive buffet and steals the best table in the backyard, near the karaoke machine so you can stop the uncles from singing too much of ‘My Way’ once they get drunk later on and as far away from the children’s table as possible so you don’t have to be obligated to take care of them later on. Chan, the eldest among you now, joins your table with his fiance, Miyoung, after they’ve officially declared their engagement before the buffet opened, happily handing out their save the date cards for their May wedding.

“Just remember, Miyoung, that you can literally get all your wedding needs from us, okay?” Yeji comments amidst all the talk about the wedding, gesturing to everyone as you eat and drink champagne. “Like Y/N and Seungmin for catering, Ryujin for the attires, Felix for your honeymoon trip, me and Hyunjin for the flowers and documentation, and Jisung can dress up as a clown for your reception.” 

“Ya!” Jisung protests to your left, cheeks full of steak and spaghetti that makes the whole table erupt in laughter. “Chan’s and Minho’s studios can arrange the music and the decor; my mom will probably argue with Miyoung’s mom for the locations and hotels.” 

“I can just tell my dad to hire you as a clown, though.” Minho shrugs nonchalantly, further fueling your laughter. To your right, you can even see Miyoung giggling through her glass of champagne, having given up on stifling her laughs. “It’d make good entertainment.” 

Jisung then leans over to you to turn to Miyoung on your other side with a pout and a pleading look to her and Chan. “You two are just letting them drag me like this?” He whines dramatically before turning to you. “Y/N, back me up here.”

“No!” You press a finger up to his forehead and playfully push him back on his seat. “It’s a great idea, what are you talking about?” You tease as you do so, much to more whines from him. “There’s like five months before the wedding, think about it.”

Next to you, Miyoung forces herself to stop laughing, teasingly asking Chan, “Babe, what do you think? Should we just demote Jisung from groomsman to clown?” 

“I’d very much prefer being a groomsman, please.” Jisung asks over Chan, leaning over the table. “I can’t compete with Changbin for best man but as long as I’m not dressing up as a clown I’m good!” 

“Hey, how come Jisung’s a groomsman?” Seungmin complains from across you, frowning cutely at the couple. “Miyoung, I’m your cousin! I introduced you and Chan in university!” 

“You’re a groomsman too, Minnie, don’t worry.” Miyoung reassures with a warm smile before elbowing her fiance. “As long as you can get your parents to cater with Y/N’s family.” 

The offer makes Seungmin’s ear perk up in interest. “Okay, call!” 

“Can we all be in the wedding party at this point? I’m seriously pushing it now, I want to dress up really cute!” Yeji, who sits on Chan’s other side, pleads. 

“Me too! I second that!” Felix backs her up immediately, the two now leaning over the table expectantly in Chan’s direction. “Though I’m not so keen on designing things.”

“Ah, but we have to make more room for actual relatives.” The groom-to-be in question laughs sheepishly. “Though, knowing our parents, I’ll try to squeeze everyone in somewhere in the program. Just let us iron out everyone’s contributions first.” 

“Yeji, I’ll take note of your suggestion, though.” Miyoung points at the younger girl with an appreciative grin. “I’ll message the groupchat once Chan and I meet up again with the planner.” 

Meanwhile, Chan’s last comment gives you and Minho an idea and the two of you suggest in chorus, “Get Seungmin to sing!” 

“Jinx!” You and Minho exchange winks and long distance-high fives from Jisung’s two sides after while Chan and Miyoung ask Seungmin about said idea, making Jisung pout at you. 

The general table conversation then naturally flows to other matters, mostly about the famous names you might be expecting at the wedding, but Jisung doesn’t participate much anymore, turning to you instead and asking, “Ya, are you cheating on me with Minho now? You sacrifice me as entertainment then back Minho up but not me!” He rambles in between mouthfuls of food, making you and even Minho chuckle in amusement despite the latter being in another conversation with Ryujin and Seungmin. “I just left for one year and you’re already doing this to me!” 

“What are you on about again, dumbass?” You roll your eyes with a scoff, stealing a piece of steak from his plate for the third time this dinner. “Finish your food, everyone’s done and you’re so slow!” 

Jisung then belatedly swats your chopsticks away, “I’m almost done, dumbass, stop mooching off my plate!” 

"Then hurry up, you still have to accompany me to the dessert table.” You point out, referring to your least favorite part of this reunion parties: getting attacked by invasive questions on your return trip to the buffet table. “Remember, you owe me. I’m not going in there alone again.” 

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He replies on his last two bites of food, eating one then handing the other one to you. “Have the other one, then.” 

He pokes your lips with the last piece of steak and you instinctively lean your head away, catching the food with your own chopsticks instead. “Thanks.” You bring the food to your mouth before carefully patting the oil he ended up smearing on your lips with your table napkin. 

Across the table and out of your earshot, Yeji elbows Hyunjin and points to the two of you. “They’re at it again.” 

Without you or Jisung looking, Hyunjin looks at the two of you in feign disgust. “I know, every damn year.” 

On Hyunjin’s other side, Seungmin nods frustratingly in agreement which makes Yeji laugh. “We shouldn’t have taken last year for granted, 'no?” He sighs. “Last year was so peaceful without them together.”

“Agreed.” The Hwang cousins agree in chorus before listening to the table’s general conversation again.

Meanwhile, Jisung finally finishes his food and excuses the two of you from the table to get dessert. Miyoung waves at you politely and Felix playfully orders that you two get him cupcakes but the rest only acknowledge you with simple nods as they’re completely engrossed in betting on whose dad will be singing My Way on the karaoke machine first (everyone’s in the middle of betting on Mr. Bang). With that, you and your best friend then take your leave, going back inside the house and making a beeline to the kitchen.

Unfortunately for you, you catch your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang gossiping by the punch bowls once you reach the kitchen’s open doorway—literally the worst combination of sorority aunts to be bombarded with invasive questions.

“Shit.” You mutter under your breath loud enough for only Jisung to hear, the two of you still out of the three women’s sights. Looking up at Jisung with pleading eyes, you ask, “Should we just go back later?” 

Quickly seeing this as an opportunity to get back at you, Jisung only smiles evilly and links his hands with yours, dragging a hesitant you inside the kitchen and towards the direction of the dessert table. “No, let’s get dessert now, baby.” He dismisses your silent pleas teasingly, making sure his voice is loud enough to get your worst nightmare of trio’s attentions. “Felix also asked us to get cupcakes too, remember?”

And like vultures, the three women immediately turn to you and Jisung as you head in their line of vision, three different shades of questioning looks on their faces. You especially catch your mom’s face, a mixture of surprise, amusement, and genuine curiosity for some reason, which sets all the gears in your head into panic mode while Jisung only gains more confidence from this. 

You swear at that moment on Jisung’s sort of untied shoelaces that you just want Mrs. Kim’s new kitchen floor tiles to swallow you up right there and then.

“Hey, mom!” Jisung greets his own mom with a wave, coming off as sweet to her but mocking to you. He then bows politely to your mom and Mrs. Hwang and you’re forced to follow along for the sake of courtesy. “Mrs. Y/L/N, Mrs. Hwang.” 

The three women look at each other curiously, as if in a silent debate on what they’ve just heard, while Jisung pretends to be unfazed, passing you a dessert plate and examining tonight’s dessert options. 

“Jisung, I swear to God,” You hiss at him as you take a slice of chocolate cake for him. “I’m going to kill you after this party.” 

He leans close to your ear while gathering cupcakes on a separate dessert plate, whispering, “I think it’s too late for that, though.” before your mom, Mrs. Han, and Mrs. Hwang suddenly appear in front of the two of you on the other side of the buffet table with sickeningly sweet smiles, and a million questions. 

You especially fear Jisung’s mom. Mrs. Han and your mom often go to the mall together, especially when there’s an ongoing sale, and you’ve been forced to carry all their shopping bags over the years because Jisung and his older brother usually bail on you. Though she’s very sweet, you’ve always known her to be very picky on some things and it just makes you think that she’s picky on who Jisung dates too. 

“Mom,” You call for your mom with wide eyes. “Do you need anything?” 

But she waves her hand dismissively with a reassuring smile at your question. “Oh, nothing, Y/N dear,” She answers, eyes darting almost threateningly between you and Jisung. It makes your hand shaky as you now complete your tower of dessert plates. “your aunties and I were just talking and we didn’t mean to but we saw you and Jisung so we just got curious and thought we’d ask how the two of you are.” 

“Oh, just ask them already!” Mrs. Hwang exclaims excitedly, slapping your mom’s arm like a school girl. “If you won’t, I will.”

But Mrs. Han is already leaning over the table with a knowing smile, straightforwardly asking, “Are you two kids dating?” which immediately makes your mom and Mrs. Hwang erupt into fits of giggles. “Come on, the aunties want to know!” 

“Oh, um—” You stammer out before Jisung beats you to it. 

For the second time tonight, you feel Jisung’s arm on your shoulder as he speaks over you confidently, “Y-Yeah, we’ve been for a while now!” He then places his dessert plate back on the table and boyishly rubs the nape of his neck which only elicits swooning reactions from the three women, a complete contrast from your expectations a while back. “Just some time before my program ended so it’s been a bit long-distance for the most part.” 

“Oh? But how?” Mrs. Hwang asks curiously. “I didn’t hear of you going to Malaysia this year, Y/N, and Jisung, your mom told me you didn’t have time to go home!”

“You could’ve just told me, Sungie! Then, I would’ve had you sent home earlier if you wanted to see Y/N!” Mrs. Han adds as well, clasping her hands in satisfaction. “I knew this was coming! You two have always been so cute together!” 

Your mom agrees, “Luckily, I refused Mrs. Park’s offer to set Y/N up with another one of her nephews a while back. Had I known you two were dating, I wouldn’t have talked to her tonight at all!”

You open your mouth to try and speak but Jisung beats you to it again. “We’ve been in touch: message, calls, and video calls, you know.” He half-shrugs casually, as if he’s been rehearsing the line for a while now. “It’s our first time meeting since we started seeing each other so telling you guys just kind of flew past us.” 

You groan internally but you also can’t help but sigh in relief at the prospect that you avoided getting set up by Mrs. Park again because of Jisung. Though this doesn’t completely erase your annoyance over him for putting you in this situation, you still owe him a ‘thank you’ after somehow.

So, you conclude that you should just follow along. It’s fake dating your best friend over another pointless blind date at this point now, after all. “You’re okay with this, right?” You decide to ask in a follow-up, pretending to not know that they’ll agree anyway. Next to you, Jisung’s eyes visibly widen and, seeing it from the corner of your eyes, you quickly elbow him in response before giving your most innocent look to your mom. “I mean, Jisung won’t be studying abroad now and we’re graduating, anyway, so it’s cool, right?”

Judging by their softened reactions, you feel like you could challenge Hyunjin to acting now. 

“Of course we’re okay with it!” Your mom answers first, Mrs. Han nodding along happily. “I’m glad that it’s someone I know at least and I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind.” 

You hear Jisung gulp nervously at the last comment. If you’re afraid of his mom, he’s afraid of your dad because of the one time he helped you practice for your driver’s license and the two of you almost ended up crashing the Ford on your subdivision’s club house. You allow yourself to relax and laugh at this, making him tighten his grip on your shoulder. 

“Me too, sis.” Mrs. Han agrees, gesturing over to her son. “My Jisung here’s been going on dates with strangers online before this so I’m glad he’s finally stopped and settled for your kid! Modern love, huh?” 

“Oh my God, mom!” Jisung whines, his free hand coming up to his face in embarrassment. “I’ve told you before, I use them to meet friends! Not in front of Mrs. Y/L/N and Y/N please!” 

“Ay, it’s the same thing!” His mom insists to him before turning to Mrs. Hwang and your mom. “Social apps, dating apps, they’re all the same. Why do you even use them if you’re just going to fall in love with the person right in front of you? I taught you better than that, Sungie.” 

“Mom!” Jisung hisses, cheeks tinted pink. “This is so embarrassing!” 

You snicker next to him, catching his attention. “Your mom’s right, you know. Tsk, dating people from miles away and you just end up confessing to me on FaceTime.” 

He scowls at you in a way that scolds you for suddenly turning this situation in your favor. You only smile triumphantly at him which the three aunties take as a really sweet moment. 

“Aw, look at them! So cute!” Mrs. Hwang gushes before turning to her two best friends. “Should we just leave them alone now? We’re intruding!” 

“Right! It’s especially embarrassing since we’re both here, Mrs. Han.” Your mom agrees, leading the three out now. She then turns to you and Jisung, “I guess we’ll be off now, then? Don’t want to intrude to you two lovebirds anymore!” 

You smile up to your mom, making sure Jisung does too. “It’s fine, mom, we’re going back to our table now too, anyway.”

But Mrs. Han waves her hand dismissively at you. “No, no, we’ll run along now first! See you later, okay?” 

You and Jisung bid your moms and Mrs. Hwang goodbye, overhearing your mom bragging that she’ll share this new information to Mrs. Park while Mrs. Han and Mrs. Hwang agree before the three completely exited the kitchen. 

Once they’re out of earshot, you sigh in relief and elbow Jisung harshly who responds by dramatically taking a step back and massaging his side. “Ow!” He winces, careful not to hit the dessert table. “What was that for?” 

“I told you to drop the fake dating thing a while back.” You protest, threatening to hit him with your plate of chocolate slices. “Now I have to have you at home more often. I’ve already had enough of you at campus, here, and when your mom visits at home.”

“Ya, but you played along!” 

“That’s because I was put on the spot! And they did mention another blind date from Mrs. Park’s army of nephews.” You explain. “It was between you and another blind date.”

“At least I got you out of another potential blind date, right?” He points out defensively, proceeding to put your hand with the chocolate slices down on the table with caution. “And more effectively now than before, too! So why’d you hit me?”

“Yeah, I know but still, that doesn’t cancel out how you got me out of that.” You frown in disappointment, taking both of your dessert plates now. When he holds his hand up defensively, as if expecting you to throw them to his face, you only roll your eyes and walk past him to the direction of the second kitchen exit. “Now, I have to fake date you for real either until Mrs. Park lays off the blind dates or until I actually date someone.” 

Jisung immediately follows you suit, genuinely rubbing the nape of his neck in a bashful way now. “We don’t have to, maybe they’ll forget about it.” But when you give him a pointed look, as if suggesting that what he just said seems unlikely, he ends up suggesting, “Okay, fine, should we break up after Chan’s wedding, then?”

He then glances over at you to see you contemplating and calming yourself down so he instinctively insists on carrying the dessert plates for you, walking a little bit ahead as well and opening the screen door leading back to the backyard. 

When you’ve made yourself calm down and think more rationally, you firstly point out, “That’s too far away and wouldn’t that be too scandalous? It’s a big event so it could become gossip.” 

Passing the entire length of the backyard now, you receive a few congratulations and questions confirming your relationship from some of your mom’s sorority friends and their husbands, forcing Jisung to hold his thought until you’re not being swarmed again. 

“But if we do it before, it’d be too suspicious since we’d only be dating for less than 6 months.” He counters once the adults have left you alone, glancing ahead and seeing your entire table looking at you with quirked up eyebrows and comically intimidating looks. “Remember when my older brother did that as a joke to the aunties and got caught because they only did it for 3 weeks? They smell fear and deceit, Y/N.”

You sigh in defeat, “Let’s just figure it out later.” With that, you reach your table, setting your plates down and asking, “What did we miss?”

Judging by the way they eye you, your mom has probably told Mrs. Kim who’s gone table to table. 

“It’s fake, isn’t it?” Ryujin speaks up once you’ve settled back in your seat, making the table break character and laugh. “It can’t be a coincidence since you two were just talking about that a while ago inside!” 

“Please be fake.” Seungmin adds, gesturing to you and Jisung. “It’d be more annoying for all of us next year if it’s true.” 

You and Jisung, having the same thought and trust for your friends, nod simultaneously at Ryujin’s question, eventually joining in on the laughter. 

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’d actually try that!” Ryujin cackles, a clear giveaway that she and Yeji were eavesdropping on you and Jisung a while back to a degree.

“To be clear, though, it’s his fault!” You add in between laughs for clarification, pointing to Jisung with your dessert spoon. “He started it!” 

“And they were about to get set up on a blind date by Mrs. Park again.” Jisung gestures to you back, completing the thought. “I was being a good Samaritan.”

“Ooh, and what did they say?” Felix asks curiously, one elbow propped up on the table as he listens intently. 

Jisung groans in exasperation as he eats his chocolate cake. “We bumped into my mom, Y/N’s mom, and Mrs. Hwang so you can imagine how they reacted.” 

“I can imagine, especially our mom.” Hyunjin sighs with his hands carding through his hair in secondhand embarrassment. 

“At least now we know where you inherited certain qualities from.” Chan teases, making the younger boy exclaim ‘ya!’ at him. 

“This is good, though isn’t it?” Yeji asks curiously over her iced tea. “I mean, Mrs. Park’s wouldn’t set you up on blind dates now.”

“Yeah, but that leaves me as Ms. Park’s only target!” Ryujin moans in frustration. “You know Mrs. Park doesn’t get convinced with dating people online!” 

You shake your head at Ryujin’s complaint. “Yeji can fake date you, though.” You point out, much to the girl’s annoyance. “Or ask out that girl from our lab.”

“So, does this mean we’re getting a dramatic break-up at Chan and Miyoung’s wedding?” Hyunjin interjects, having moved from playing with his now long hair to his glass of champagne. “Because if so, then you better tell us now so we won’t get too drunk at the reception until it happens!”

“I honestly want to see that happen too.” Seungmin agrees, the two high-fiving at the thought.

“That’d be interesting, breaking up at weddings.” Minho chuckles along now too. “People usually propose or hook-up so this is new.” 

“Hey, no stealing my spotlight on my wedding!” Miyoung complains playfully to you and Jisung this time. “We’re all supposed to have a good time there!”

Chan nods in agreement. “If you break up at our wedding, you’re getting kicked out.” 

So you shake your head reassuringly in between eating cupcakes. “We aren’t planning to.” 

“You’re going to date for real?” Felix asks teasingly, earning him a glare form you.

“Gross, no.” You and Jisung turn down the thought in chorus.

“Jinx.” Jisung adds, stealing a spoonful of cake from your plate.

“So when are you breaking up?” Chan asks, leading the whole round table to look back to you. 

“Whenever, I guess.” You shrug casually, belatedly swatting Jisung’s hand from your plate this time. “Until Mrs. Park gets off my back and Jisung actually stops fucking around on Bumble.” 

“I don’t fuck around on Bumble!” Jisung complains over a mouthful of chocolate cake.

“Well, that’s going to take a long time.” Chan dismisses. “At least let us all know so we can schedule faking a whole drama in this group.” 

“Anyway, it’ll die down soon, surely.” Jisung assures with a half-shrug. “Also, our parents only meet up constantly during this reunion party. If anything, we just have to fake date in front of our moms since they meet up more often.” 

“And Mrs. Hwang.” You point to Hyunjin and Yeji. “Since we all go to brunch once a month.” 

At the mention of the monthly brunch, Yeji’s eyes widen. “Does that mean Jisung has to be at our monthly brunch?!” 

“Oh, ew!” Hyunjin adds in disgust. “I’ve had enough seeing you at campus already!” 

“Why does everyone keep saying that?!” Jisung exclaims back in complain. “I doubt I’d get invited to that, we’re supposed to be dating not getting married!” 

Jisung turns to you expectantly, sighing in relief when you say, “That seems unlikely, it’s my mom and Mrs. Hwang’s thing, anyway. It’s not the Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner brunch.” 

“It better be!” Hyunjin says with crossed arms. “Hopefully our moms don’t get that kind of idea.”

You quietly agree. Having Jisung on your monthly brunch with the Hwangs would just cause so much trouble and cement him in your mom’s good graces—but as your boyfriend, this time.

That’s probably not good. 

The party officially ends some time around 3 AM, when most of the parents with elementary school children have gone home hours earlier and, besides the Kims, it’s just your family, the Hwangs, the Hans, Chan, and Miyoung left at the front gates, bidding each other goodnight.  

“Thank you for having us again, Mrs. Kim.” You bid Seungmin’s family last since they’re the hosts, bowing politely to Seungmin’s parents before giving Seungmin a high-five. 

“See you after break.” Seungmin greets you after your high-five. “Have fun in Japan.” 

“And you enjoy your trip to New York.” You reply with an enthusiastic smile. “I do hope your mom reconsiders staying longer so you can spend the New Year there.” 

He nods with a sigh, “Yeah, I know. Still, I’ll try my best to convince her.” 

Your mom then approaches the two of you, bidding Seungmin and his parents goodnight before taking you away by the arm then turning you towards the direction of Jisung and his family. “Goodnight, Seungmin, Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” She smiles warmly to them before turning to you. “Y/N, aren’t you going to say goodnight to Jisung?” 

“I already did.” 

“Ah, but go to him anyway! Your dad still has to start the car.” 

You groan internally. After a whole night of drinking, singing, and gossiping with her friends, you’d think that she would’ve forgotten about earlier. 

Yet you oblige anyway, excusing yourself from your parents and approaching Jisung whose parents are busy having last-minute small talk with Chan and Miyoung, probably endorsing their chain of hotels as early as now for the wedding. 

“Hey, ugly.” You greet him casually as you approach, both your parents out of earshot so the old nickname naturally comes out. At this, Jisung immediately turns from scrolling through his phone to looking up at you with wide eyes. “My mom didn’t see us say goodnight a while ago so I’m here.” 

“Oh,” He muses, eyes flitting to your mom behind you once. When he sees her glancing expectantly, he turns to you and suggests, “Should we hug?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” You sigh, going straight into his extended arms. “‘Night.” 

“’Night, baby.” Jisung hums gently, too sleepy now to throw more witty comebacks besides the cheesy pet name that originally got you in trouble tonight. “See you after the break.” 

“No, see you on our moms’ next shopping spree.” You correct firmly, pulling away from his warmth before you could accidentally fall asleep on him. “Since we’re ‘dating’ now, you’re morally obligated to attend shopping bag duty now, too.” 

This makes Jisung sigh in defeat, “Fine, fair enough. See you on our moms’ next shopping spree, then.” He pauses for a moment then asks, “The day after New Year, right?”  

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod when you catch him pouting, “You started this so don’t pout now.” 

“I know, I’m regretting it now.” He rolls his eyes with a scoff, only making you chuckle. “I suppose it’s different when we hang out as friends and when our moms think we’re dating.”

You continue laughing anyway until a thought crosses your mind and softens your gaze up at Jisung. “Anyway, thanks for saving me from another date—I almost forgot. The means is still annoying but I have to appreciate it somehow, right?” 

This time, it’s him chuckling, “Now you appreciate my efforts. See, I told you, something good comes up with this.” 

“Whatever.” You dismiss before you hear your mom calling for you as your dad pulls up in front of the Kim’s gates. “Okay, that’s me. Bye, ugly!” 

“Hm, bye!” With a final wave, Jisung then sees you off before joining his parents who he didn’t even realize have already gone to their car. 

Seating himself at the backseat of his mom’s car a moment later, Jisung accidentally glances over to his mom from the rear view mirror only to see her wiggling her eyebrows at him. 

“So,” Mrs. Han says. “you and Y/N.”

“Yeah?” Jisung response with a questioning tone. “Me and Y/N, what about it?” 

Mrs. Han only shrugs from the driver’s seat as she now drives away from the Kim’s house. “Nothing, you’re just both really cute.” She comments casually with a proud smile. “I like it. Though it is too bad we can’t invite them to dinner since they’re going to Japan for Christmas this year.” 

“How about next year?” Jisung’s dad suggests. “We can go on one of our hotels abroad.” 

“Ah, but—” Jisung stammers, only to be interrupted by his dad again.     

“Or, honey, when you and Mrs. Y/L/N go to the mall again.” Mr. Han quickly quips in to Mrs. Han before turning to their son in the back seat. “I expect you’d stop bailing on your mom when she goes to the mall now since Y/N’s always at these shopping trips.” 

At this, Jisung shakes his head, “I won’t. I’m ‘morally obligated’ now, apparently.”

“That’s good.” Mr. Han says, turning back to the road ahead and relaxing into the front passenger seat. “You better.”

Jisung sleepily props his elbow up by the window and sighs, letting his parents enjoy this new prospect of him seriously dating someone now. “Yup.” He ends the conversation, closing his eyes and getting a few minutes of sleep before arriving back home. 

Suddenly, this is probably not a good idea—lying to his already hyped parents. 

ch. 2 // ch. 3 // series masterlist

tag: @t-toodumbtocare​ @sandaigdigan-reads​ @pwarkhans​ @ruellelix @malai-barfi @mahalau​ @milkywayfelix @qweens-stuff​

[beholdme]

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 9

Chapters: 9/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan “Jon” Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can’t help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

On a Tuesday in the middle of November, not long after Gerry's 28th birthday, the three of them eat dinner at Gerry's flat, as they often do these days. Jon cooks for them and after, Martin and Gerry wash the dishes and debate the book they both just finished reading.

Jon has been twitchy all evening, so they leave him to read his own book in peace.

He wanders in at one point, leaning against the counter. "Gerry, do you know what day it is?"

Gerry looks over at him in such a way as to indicate that he really doesn't.

"Our six-month anniversary?" He tries.

"No," Martin pipes up, "That's not for weeks yet."

Jon and Gerry both look at him askance. "What? Your boyfriend starts dating another man, you remember the date. I can't believe you two don't know." Martin says as if that about covers it.

"Nevermind that." Jon snaps, and even with his previous moodiness, the others are taken aback at his blunt words and even harsher tone.

"Something wrong, Jon?" Gerry asks quietly, leaning against the opposite counter to Jon and crossing his arms. His tone suggests what he actually wanted to say was 'Do we have a problem here, bitch?' but he manages to reign the actual words in.

"I want to know why you left without saying goodbye." Jon's words are filled with a multitude of frustrations, none of which are actually conveyed in his limited words.

"Yesterday?" Gerry asks, incredulous. "You were asleep!"

"No! Not yesterday." Jon snaps back. "When we were younger. It's been ten years today since you disappeared off the face of the planet."

"Oh," Gerry responds quietly, his defensive posture dropping. He leans his hands back on the table behind him, bringing his shoulders up around his ears. It’s a rare display of confident, edgy Gerry trying to shrink himself.

"I thought we were, you know. Together. Then one day you were just gone! As if you had never existed. Your mother wouldn't tell me anything at all, just sat there smirking at me, said that you were gone and she didn't know when you were coming back, or if you were ever coming back. Which you never did, actually." Jon has been pacing, his voice rising with each new word until the final words are shouted accusatorily into the space between them.

Gerry knew Jon had wanted to talk about this since the day he walked in the library and back into his life. He had waited, been patient, and Gerry had put it off in the hopes that he would never have to choke the words out. Now, that patience was obviously over, and he knew he owed Jon this explanation.

"We were together Jon. I loved you."

"So why? What did I do so wrong, that I got to wake up one day and find you gone ?" Jon's voice has become desperate, and they can all hear the tears that he is trying to hold back.

"Don't say that. You didn't do anything wrong. We weren't perfect, but we were always so good together. I... I had to get out of there. And I couldn't leave any clues behind, so I couldn't tell you anything, because it wouldn't have been safe for either of us." Gerry reaches towards Jon to soothe him, but he flinches away and Gerry doesn't pursue him.

"I don't understand." The tears have come, and Gerry desperately tries to hold back his own when he sees them.

Martin had up until that point been standing resolutely in the corner, trying not to interfere in their pre-Martin argument. At the advent of tears, Martin moves to stand at Jon's back, gripping his shoulder for comfort. Gerry looks bereft and Martin holds out a hand to get him to come closer as well. They huddle all together, both Jon and Gerry taking comfort in Martin's steadiness.

Gerry leans into Jon, sliding his hand around his neck and pressing their foreheads together. "I'm so sorry, love. I've never forgiven myself for just disappearing on you. I thought about you every day."

"I love you," Jon whispers as Martin rocks them both gently. "But I need to know."

"I love you too." Gerry shuts his eyes and wishes more than ever to erase his shitty legacy of pain and blood.

*

Martin drags them to bed and offers to leave them alone to their talk.

"Please stay," Gerry says, grasping his hand. "You both need to know, and I don't want to have to talk through this twice."

So they all pile into Gerry's bed together, sitting in a vague circle like teenagers at a slumber party.

As Gerry starts to talk, Martin drags him over toward him and begins braiding his dark blue hair. It's both an offer of physical comfort and affection (easily Gerry's main love language) and a simple way of letting him off the hook for eye contact.

With Jon staring at him quite intently, Martin doesn't think he needs any further pressure.

"Jon, you-" He starts and then halts abruptly. Jon reaches over and grasps his hand, attempting to further ground him. "You remember my mother. I know you saw how, how just off she was. Manipulative and controlling. By turns demanding and completely uninterested in me. One day I would be free to run wild for weeks at a time, the next she would have a meltdown if I wasn't exactly where she wanted me, every second of the day and night." Gerry blows a breath out, shuddering at the memory of a particularly bad incident with a vase that had left him needing several stitches over his left eye.

"Well, she wasn't always like that. I remember her being a pretty good mom when I was young, if distant. She was always far more interested in being a wife than a mother, and she loved the way my father adored her.

“When I was 7, my father was blinded in an accident at work. I remember the day the phone call came. She spoke very calmly to the hospital, before hanging up the phone and shattering every picture frame in the house." Martin is finished with Gerry's hair and simply leans into him, offering silent comfort. "He coped okay with his new disability actually, and I liked helping him learn the world again with no sight. My mother never recovered from her initial breakdown though. She was angry and petulant that she needed to help and support him for the first time in their entire relationship and became more and more unhinged over the course of a year.

"One day I came home from school to find a puddle of blood soaked into the floor of the living room. She said there had been an accident and my father wasn't coming back. She hit me for the first time when I cried. She told me that I was a man now, and tears were for useless girls and disgusting… Well, you get the picture."

Gerry pauses and glances between them. A few tears have started to run down his face, but he doesn't seem to even notice them.

"We moved a few days later, and that was all I ever knew about my father's death until I was eighteen, almost ten years later. I'll spare you the horrid details, but as I'm sure you've already guessed, she murdered him. She explained very, very graphically what she had done with the body, and that she would never be caught, no one would ever think to blame her, even if anyone could ever prove that he was dead at all."

The words hang heavy in the air between the three of them. Gerry feels the comfort of their touches, but can hardly stand the affection anymore. He gets up off the bed and goes to look out the bedroom window, arms crossed and posture hard.

"Then she looked me right in the eye. And she told me that was exactly what would happen to Jon if she ever caught me with him again."

Dead, cold silence fills the room.

Gerry turns back around to find them both watching him. "So, I packed whatever I could fit into my duffle bag, and I got the hell out of dodge. I ran. I ran because I couldn't close my eyes at night with seeing your face white and cold and covered in blood and," he breaks off and takes a shuddering breath, covering his eyes and sinking to his knees. "And I couldn't stand that she would hurt you because of me. That all your light and potential would be ripped away from you in blood and pain and nothing I felt for you could make even the risk of that worthwhile."

He lifts his head to look up at them, where they’ve moved to the side of the bed towards him. “And do you want to know what the worst part is, actually? I can’t get over the idea that even though I haven’t seen Mary Keay in 10 years, the ghost of her demons lives inside of me. That I'm really just… Her. That one day my mind will snap and I'll be a danger to you both and I'll be the one hurting you, just like she hurt him. And then I'll just be the same monster who has always haunted my dreams."

Martin and Jon exchange a heavy look. They can scarcely believe that Gerry had endured so much and yet is still… Gerry. Happy, flirtatious, loving Gerry. Gerry, who fills their lives with colour and spontaneity, always showing up when they least expected him, pushing himself into their gravity and asking for space in their lives.

Despite the rather violent nature of Gerry's confession, it doesn't change anything for either of them. Things are not yet settled between them, but they curl around Gerry on the floor and they cry together over shattered innocence and sacrificed futures, and Jon promises himself that he will never let Mary Keay come between him and Gerry ever again.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

AHHHHH YOU ALWAYS KILL IT W SONG REQUESTS (as you do w everything else you write bc it’s all gold). may i pls ask for only memories remain by my morning jacket w cal if you could 🥺

Hi, love! Thanks for your patience while I finished up some schoolwork before I got this request!

CW/TW: Mentions of Death. 

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Calum grunts as he pushes up off the floor, hands pressed into the mattress to help assist him. It’s less his back and more of his knees that are not pleased with him. But he does this every so often, kneels on the floor on your side of the bed and digs out that shoebox full of pictures, your engagement band. He made sure that you kept the wedding ring itself. He wanted you to take that with you. 

He should probably stop calling it your side of the bed--your scent hasn’t grazed that pillow in nearly three years. The nightstand is missing your mug in the mornings and your glasses that you always forgot where you put them down. Even if you did remember to hook them around your neck, the second you pulled the glasses down you’d forget instantly where you put them. And Calum wouldn’t be laughing at that, but sometimes he’s not sure how you got around in the world. You always told him glasses weren’t important; they were replaceable if you somehow managed to lose them for good. The only things you didn’t forget were the important things. 

And it’s true. You remembered birthdays, anniversaries, just how the kids liked their plates arranged when they were younger and how a kiss to the back of Calum’s neck would always make his shiver spine. You remembered all the quirks to the dogs and you’d remembered songs from decades ago like they were still new to the radio. 

Settling onto the edge of the bed, Calum pulls up the top to box and right on top is the letter you wrote to him while he was on tour, all those years ago. He had saved it, doing his best to preserve it in your handwriting but he had typed up and saved another draft of it, so he’d never forget it. 

 Dear Calum, 

You might think I’m crazy. But I can hear the laughter in the walls--the sound of you laughing at all my purposefully bad dance moves and I can hear the kisses you give to top of Duke’s head. And I know the house is empty except for me and Duke. I know you are miles away. I know you are dazzling thousands every night. But if only they could hear what I hear in the walls. Your bass occasionally thumping the pictures frames and the shrieks when we fail at some new recipe and resign to take out. If only they could hear, the sound of you when you’re murmuring gently in your sleep or the snores that keep me up some nights. If only they could hear the whispers we don’t want to give power too, the anxiety that sometimes build, but knowing that the two of us can confide in each other. 

If only I could capture what I hear just below that too, and send that to you as well. If only I had a way to let you hear what I hear. If I could tell you sometimes I hear a baby’s laughter, or the bickering of sibling. If only I could tell you about the years I hear waiting for us in this house, maybe other one--a place bigger for the dogs and kids. I can hear the splash of our pool with kids from the neighborhood. 

I don’t know if you hear that too in the house when I’ve gone for a conference or even if you imagine it when I’m just in the next room. I know I do with you. Even if you’re just outside with your trainer, I can hear the house whispering for more. And I could totally be projecting on some poor house, that doesn’t ever have wants or desires, just an existence that which is it content with, but there is something happening, something that I want to let you know about. It hasn’t been easy for ys, but it’s always been worth it. I know our options around children may be a little tough, but I think it’ll be worth it. 

I could easily call you, I could easily text you all things. But, no, I must write it down, as some way of working through my own thoughts. I hope I don’t sound crazy. 

Though I can hear it now, you tsking at me with a shake of your head and a single raised digit--I am never crazy, just always thinking. Just always working through the thoughts that run faster than me. 

I hope you’re well. I hope the tour’s going well and you’re sleeping good at night. Have you tried that lavender like I told you about? Duke’s well, in case you’re wondering. He did well at his checkup today, just sleeping a lot still. Vet says it’s normal for a dog his age. But when he does get a good burst of energy he’s happy to trot around the backyard or around the block. He’s still eating well, so don’t fret about that. Your old man’s still kicking it. He told me to tell you, he’s not going down anytime soon. He’s just taking it easy. 

The weather is LA is turning for a bit. We’ve had some clouds for the last few days. But it’s been nice. You’d be displeased, needing that sun. But soon, you’ll be back home--see your mom and dad and be able to get that Australian sun. 

Love you, Calum. To the ends of the earth, back again, and beyond. 

Yours truly, 

Dearly Beloved. 

He’s not sure when calling you his dearly beloved became a thing. You’d remember. You’d remember to the exact date, time, and happenings. But Calum can’t seem to remember that kind of stuff. He just remembers watching you run after the kids as they shrieked about bath time and how you like kisses right on the back of your ears. 

It’s a strange thing, to remember that, remember all the times he could sneak up behind you to kiss the back of your ear and watch you jump in the shock contrasted to the way you felt cool in his hands as he turned your head one last time to kiss the beloved spot and the way dead weight is actually much heavier, the way it took so much more effort to place your head back upright than it ever took to gently cup your chin and instantly you’d turn to him, with a smile on your face. 

Calum places the letter to the side and finds your favorite old t-shirt--it was hardly a t-shirt anymore. The hole in the armpit was spreading just a little but it held the name of your old university and you wore it for everything from weeding the garden to painting the bedrooms, to gutting the kitchen during the remodel. 

Calum bought exact matching t-shirts and made small decor pillows for the kids, sprayed your signature scent onto them so they could sleep easier at night. But they still curled up in bed with him, hugging their pillows, faces buried into the pillows on your side of the bed. He’d rather them take the last of your scent--he’s happier that they got those moments. 

“Pops, I don’t understand this math question,” Trey states poking his head into the bedroom. 

Calum snaps his attention up from the box and nods. “Coming. Algebra, right?”

“Yeah,” he nods, leaning into the molding. It’s crazy to look at him now, how he’s almost surpassed Calum in height. At fifteen, Calum thought he’d surely still have a few inches maybe a foot over him. Calum remembers when Trey found out he had officially been adopted but the two of you. He was six and cried more than Calum or you did--though the margin was probably still pretty close. It couldn’t have been nine years already. 

“Do-do you have their glasses?” Trey asks quietly. “Today’s been hard. And I feel silly with a pillow in my lap as I do homework.”

Calum walks over, box in hand. “I kept a lot of their smaller things. Whatever you need--it’s always in this box.”

Trey pulls your glasses from the pile, noticing other letters and pictures scattered about in the box. He spies the college t-shirt but just next to it is a picture of you and Trey. He’s in your lap, giant headphones over his ears. “Is that from the first show I went too of yours?”

Calum only briefly catches a glance at the photo before Trey’s fully plucked it from the box. “I think so.”

Trey immediately places the glasses back into the box but holds onto the picture. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

“So, do you happen to remember anything from Algebra?”

Calum laughs at the tease and put the box down on the dresser before following behind Trey to the living room. Brandy sits at the coffee table, her stack of color pages and pencils spread out. Calum did his best to keep her doing art. It was hard after you first died.  But slowly over the years, she’s gotten back into it. “You all good?” 

She nods. “All good in the Hood.” She got the phrase from you and here Calum was, with Brandy at ten, and he was sure she would never let the phrase die. 

Calum stops just for a moment to kiss the top of her head and then carries on to the dinning room table. “Okay, so I know I’m not a math whizz like them. But your old man still knows a thing or two about a thing or two,” he returns to Trey’e earlier quip. “Now let’s see what new math magic they have you all working in.”

Trey laughs, slipping the tiny photo of him into the back of his phone case so it shows out to the world. “You calling it magic does not make me feel better.”