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softukiyos · 3 years

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a pinch of the jeekies | han jisung

𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙩𝙮𝙥𝙚: 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦

𝙙𝙚𝙨𝙘𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣: 𝘫𝘪𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥. 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘴𝘴.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: ~2.7k+

𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙 𝙗𝙮: 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘯

𝙖/𝙣: 𝘩𝘪 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦! 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦! 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩! >.< 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺!

Jisung liked to take pride in his cheeks. When he'd first entered elementary school, he despised them. Everyone had seemed to shed their baby fat very quickly, but his squishy cheeks never left. After a few years of struggling with his self image, he entered high school, confident and proud of how he looked.

His cheeks were unmatched. No one would ever have cheeks that could even come close.

At least, that was what he thought before he met you, his strict, grumpy tutor that his chemistry teacher had assigned to him in hopes of raising his abysmal grades.

Jisung didn't like you at first. He'd known you from afar like most other people did; the top of the class, intellectually brilliant but aloof girl that didn't seem to care about anyone in the school.

Jisung didn't like you when he first met you in person. Your tutoring sessions were hard, and he meant really hard. You never let him get away with a single thing, not one missing unit, not one problem where he forgot to show work, nothing ever passed your watchful eye. And as much as he tried to resist, he found his grades improving at a rapid rate, which only encouraged his teacher to send him to you more.

After a month or so, however, it sort of hit Jisung like a truck when he finally had the revelation that you weren't so bad. As Spartan as your teaching methods were, you never belittled him for asking a stupid question, you wouldn't laugh if he asked you to slow down, and all in all, you were genuinely quite considerate of his feelings while still managing to get the results out of him. The first time he saw you genuinely smile was when he handed you his first B+, where you looked him in the eye and told him that you were proud of his improvement.

Jisung couldn't even remember the last time he received a compliment like that from anyone. So after a while, he began to think that maybe you didn't show care towards anyone in particular because no one ever bothered to look past your reputation to see you for who you were.

After another day of classes, he headed to the library, ready for another grueling hour of chemical reaction exercises. However, as he turned the corner into the little nook that you liked to study in, his steps faltered as he saw you slumped over the desk, your head resting on your arms as you slept soundly.

Now, Jisung probably shouldn't have gotten so excited to see you sleep, but he did. After all, he'd never seen you in such a relaxed state around him, and as he took a peek at your face, he physically had to stop himself from cooing out loud at how adorable you looked.

Woah, woah, woah. What?

The boy did a quick double take. When did he ever think his chemistry tutor was cute? Well, there was that one time he saw you scurrying down the hallway when you came to school late, there was that one time you sneezed on your way up to the whiteboard and looked a bit like a deer in headlights. There was also that one time he saw you giggle when you came across a quokka doodle in his notes and--oh my god that was basically 98% of his time with you and the other 2% was the time he was just staring at you from afar.

Gulping nervously, he slid into the chair next to you and very carefully placed his book bag on the table. To be honest, he was waiting for you to wake up on your own; with a brother named Changbin who was a literal demon if you even so much as nudged him while he was asleep, Jisung was well aware of the dangers of waking people up from naps. He wasn’t sure what type of riser you were, and he wasn’t going to find out.

But as the minutes ticked on and crept into your normal tutoring time, you still didn’t wake and Jisung just sat beside you, picking imaginary petals in his head to decide whether or not he should give your shoulder a light nudge. He wanted to, because he knew you’d probably get upset at him if you woke up later to find that the two of you had wasted precious time, but on the other hand, you did look quite exhausted, even more so than usual. The bags under your eyes seemed slightly more defined, and this nap looked like the first moment of decent sleep you’ve gotten in days.

Eventually, Jisung decided not to wake you. If you got angry, then he’d just promise to study on his own when he got back home. He could put off playing games with Felix for one night if it meant that you got some rest. When you made an expression of discomfort, he even shrugged off his bomber jacket, rolling it into a pillow before gently maneuvering it to replace the book you were sleeping on.

With nothing else to do, Jisung found himself spending much of that time on his phone, but he couldn’t help but take some of the other time to gaze at you. Now that you weren’t wacking him with a rolled up test that he failed or glaring at everyone, you actually looked quite innocent and peaceful. You looked even happy, and Jisung wondered what you were dreaming about.

But what really caught Jisung’s eye were your cheeks. With your face squished against your arm, your cheeks were puffed up adorably, and it took every ounce of self restraint for Jisung to not poke them at least once. They looked like little marshmallows, and as the minutes ticked on, Jisung found it harder and harder to control himself.

He even felt a little bit of jealousy curling in his gut. What moisturizer did you use? Why did your cheeks look softer than his?

“Oh, the two of you are still here!”

Jisung almost jumped out of his seat as the librarian peaked her head into the corner, “A-ah, yes!” He stumbled over his words nervously.

“Well, you better hurry out. I’m closing up in five,” she said before finishing up her rounds so she could leave for the day. Checking his phone, Jisung realized with a start that it was almost six in the evening, thirty minutes past when your normal tutoring session ended. He didn’t even notice.

He glanced over at you, who was still snoring away without a care in the world and his expression softened. Looks like he’d have to wake you up after all. He almost didn’t want to, but against his better judgement, he leaned towards you and gave your cheek a gentle little pinch, full of fondness that he didn’t even really understand yet.

“Y/N,” he murmured your name as softly as possible, his smiling widening as you let out a soft groan in response. Wow, your cheeks were fluffier than anything he’d ever touched before.

“What…?” you mumbled, eyes fluttering open as you sat up, gripping at Jisung’s jacket in confusion.

He smiled, “Rise and shine, sleepyhead,” he ducked under your sleepy attempt to flick his forehead.

“What time is it?”

“Almost six,” Jisung said, helping you pack your book bag as you regained your bearings. As you finally managed to process where you were, your eyes widened almost comically.

“It’s almost six.”

Jisung laughed, “Yes? That’s what I just said?”

You shoved his jacket back at his chest, cheeks unnaturally hot, “Why didn’t you wake me up?!” Gosh, you were more than embarrassed. It was one thing to miss a tutoring session, it was another to sleep through it with your student literally right next to you. Especially when the student was Han Jisung.

He took his jacket back, still amused by how flustered you looked. In all the time he’d spent with you, he’d never seen you look so frazzled before, “I wanted to wake you, but you looked so tired!” Jisung explained, deciding to take the moment to try and reach out to you once more, “Is everything alright? You looked really drained. I noticed in class, too.”

You tensed up, not expecting Jisung to be so observant. No, scratch that, you knew Jisung was always observant, but you never thought that applied to you.

“I just have a little more on my plate now,” you explained the best you could without actually explaining.

Jisung felt a pang of disappointment. It was the blank wall to the face again, like he always got when he tried to get to know you better. Two steps forward, four steps back.

“But, regardless, you should've woken me up,” you continued, huffing at him as you reached into your bag to pull out your planner, “It's my fault for oversleeping, so let me know what time you'd like to reschedule--”

“Woah, woah,” Jisung waved his hands frantically, shaking his head, “Didn't you just say you have more on your plate now? You don't need to reschedule.”

You gave him an inquisitive stare and he physically had to hold back a gulp, “Are you just trying to get out of tutoring?” You asked, but he noticed that your voice didn't hold any edge to it, another red flag that you were probably a lot more exhausted than you let on.

“I'm not, I promise,” he held his arms up in surrender, “I'll go over the material and do the assignment myself. You can check it over next week!”

A moment of silence passed before you relented, placing the planner back in your bag with a sigh, “Okay, but the three mistake rule still stands. Got it?”

Jisung smiled, “Got it,” he said, grabbing his bag and standing up, “I won't let you down after all the help you've given me.”

“You really think this is helpful?” The surprise in your words spilled out despite your best attempts to keep your mask of passivity. Fuck, it was always Jisung that made you like this. Any other person would tried to tear down your mental walls, only for you to build them up twice as high and twice as thick. But Jisung--Jisung just walked past them like they didn't even exist.

“Um, yeah? My grades literally went from C’s to B’s and A’s because of you!” Jisung exclaimed, practically offended for your sake at the mere thought of your question, “If that isn't helpful, then what is?”

A dry chuckle left your lips as the two of you walked out of the library, “That isn't what I meant. Normally, people would say that I'm a bit...harsh? Overbearing? Un-fun?”

Jisung bit his lip, his eyes rounding with a mix of realization and guilt as he saw the expression on your face. You probably didn't even notice it as you looked up into the sky, but he could see it as clear as day. A bittersweetness that looked a bit like hurt, but it wasn't quite either.

So you did know of what people said about you, and it did affect you. The guilt festered in his chest as Jisung came to the painful realization that he was part of that group of judging before knowing only a few weeks before.

“Um!” Jisung blurted out rather clumsily, grabbing your attention as you turned to face him, “You're a good teacher. Y-yeah, sometimes you can be a bit strict, but people should know that you do it only because you want them to succeed!”

A moment of awkward silence passed between the two of you, and Jisung was about to disappear into the ground when you let out a giggle, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and failing to hide your amusement.

You laughed. You laughed because of him. You were smiling because of him. Jisung held your expression, your moment of happiness, close to his heart, and he wanted nothing more than to see it again.

“Thank you, Jisung,” you said after your giggles died and you stood before him, a bit of distance still between the two of you even though it wasn't quite as tense or awkward as before, “That means a lot to me, really.”

Jisung’s face lit up, and he nodded, “And I really mean what I said! I wouldn't have gotten so much better without you.”

Your cheeks felt unusually warm in the chilly evening, and you realized that you should probably make your escape soon before you found yourself falling more and more for this boy who wore his heart on his sleeve.

“Well, thank you again,” you said sincerely, clutching the strap of your book bag as you gave him a smile, already beginning to turn away, “I’m gonna head home, so I guess I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

Jisung felt the joy in his heart stutter a bit at the way you turned to glance down the road you were about to take, and his mouth worked before his brain, “Wait! I could give you a ride!” He blurted out before wanting nothing more than to bonk himself in the head.

“Oh?” You turned back around to face him as you crossed your arms, “You drive?”

“Uh, I have a bike, which is still faster than walking,” Jisung supplied the follow up information rather unhelpfully, but it made you smile nonetheless, “And you live close to Seungmin’s family bakery, right? I live right around there, too.”

There wasn’t much about that offer that you could really refuse, and you found yourself not wanting to anyway. You were still pretty exhausted and you were already dreading the walk back home.

And besides, a little extra time with Han Jisung never hurt anyone except for your poor heart, which was beginning to grow tired of fighting your obvious attraction for this boy.

“Alright,” you said, shifting your bag strap higher up your shoulder as you gestured, “lead the way.”

The ride was quite silent, but neither of you minded. If anything, you enjoyed the silence, and Jisung knew you enjoyed it, so he didn’t bother to pry or start conversation. With your hands resting on his shoulders for balance as you sat behind him on what was normally the basket rack, and with the sky loosing its pinkish tones and exchanging them for the dark blues and purples of night, everything felt strangely perfect and--dare you say it--romantic.

When you finally told Jisung to stop in the front of a house just a couple buildings down from Seungmin’s bakery, the air between the two of you had shifted somehow. It wasn’t a big change; you weren’t suddenly head over heels in love with him and he wasn’t suddenly filled with the urge to kiss you like they do in shoujo mangas, but there was a comfortable and mutual sense of affection for one another that didn’t need any pushing or rushing from either side. The two of you just...knew it somehow.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, your voice soft as you swung your leg off and found yourself next to the bike, face to face with Jisung.

“Don’t mention it,” he smiled, leaning against the handle of his bike in a way that made him look deviously adorable. You bit your lip, hesitating for a second before reaching up with your fingers and giving his soft cheeks a light squish.

Huh, they were even softer than you’d imagined they would be.

Jisung’s eyes grew as wide as saucers, which snapped you out of your daze as you quickly pulled your hand away and cleared your throat awkwardly.

“Don’t forget to go over today’s chapter when you get home,” you said, trying to mask your embarrassment and keep your voice steady as you gave him one last smile before rushing into your house, fumbling a bit with the keys when you pulled them out of your bag.

Jisung stood in front of your house for a moment longer, his eyes dazed with surprise as he reached up to rub his cheek. Fuck, if you mess around with him like this any more, he’d be head over heels in love with you before the semester even ended.

And as Jisung biked back home, he didn’t even care that he actually lived in the opposite direction and he’d lied a bit in order to make sure you got back safe. Your smiles, your laughter, and your gentle retaliation for his earlier pinch of your cheek made it all worth it.

Jisung thought he had the cutest cheeks in the world, but he was pretty satisfied with being second best now.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids blurbs #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz x y/n #han jisung blurbs #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #skz x reader #dream type: drabbles

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toshiirou · 3 years

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A favour given is a favour owed - Linkverse Writing

Link was having a Bad Day. Capital letters and all. It warranted such distinction.

For starters, Link was one of many Links. He went by ‘Twilight’, if only to ease their shared communication. This wasn’t necessarily new information to him, being one of many: his own adventure had put him in contact with the Hero’s Shade – a ghost of a former Hero that had taught him everything he knew. While he didn’t know if the shade was yet another ‘Link’, he had resolutely cut off that line of thought as soon as it occurred to him. He couldn’t stick the thought of knowing that such a future awaited one of his current companions.

That wasn’t to say that Twilight was entirely successful in banishing the thought. It stressed him out, in the dead of night, or those quiet moments in between breaths. Twilight had come to care for the other incarnations of the Hero, as oddly self-centred that might seem on paper. Such care didn’t make it any easier to deal with their noise, however.

“Come back here!” Wind, yet another ‘Link’, yelled. Out of all of them he was one of the few that spoke verbally. And boy did he verbalise. Minish – or ‘Mini’, and Twilight had fondly nicknamed him in his head, stuck his tongue out in response. He was truly deserving of the title ‘mini’, standing as the shortest of all the Links. What he lacked in height he made up for with sheer willingness to fight, well, basically anything. Twilight was sure Mini could fight one of the Goddesses themselves and win, bless his heart.

In this case, he had grabbed one of the two pastries their resident pirate had bought for himself from the town they had just left. Twilight had been relishing the peace away from the hustle and bustle from the town centre – loud and crowded as it was – only to be bombarded with the sounds of their argument. He bit his lip, somewhat stressed out. The adventure was grating, not only because they were being thrown about time all willy-nilly, but because Twilight didn’t had a safe space to retreat to any-more. Even on his own harrowing adventure he could retreat to his pitch-black basement whenever it got too much. He gnawed a little more on his lip, flinching at the sound of Wind missing his shot at Mini and face-planting into the dirt.

He jumped at the sound of a loud wail, and turned quickly to see the tail end of Mini stuffing the pastry into his mouth, whole. Goddess help that kid, if he didn’t choke at the rate he was going. Wind was kneeling in the dirt, melodramatic, but without signs of true distresses. Absent-mindedly, Twilight dragged his nails over the back of his hand, trying to ground himself. What he really wanted was somewhere nice, and warm, and pitch-black. Like a blanket fort. The sunlight was bothering him, and the town had put him on edge, and the argument wasn’t helping any. He hadn’t slept well at all, and he was trying very hard not to think of some very distressing thoughts, all the while. Goddesses, he missed Midna.

He kept scratching his hand in distraction, trying to at least pay attention to the others. Sky had come to help Wind off the floor.

Don’t worry, Sky signed. We brought enough for everyone. He smiled, and reached to his belt where a small sack. Upon opening it he revealed a small pile of pastries, really enough for them all twice over.

“Woah!” Wind yelled. Twilight flinched. “Thank you so much, Sky!” He jumped up, all previous signs of upset gone like they hadn’t existed in the first place, and grabbed himself another pastry, which he immediately shoved into his mouth. “Del’shush.” He said, mouth full. Twilight was half convinced he’d bought the second pastry for Mini in the first place, going by how easily the shortest hero had grabbed it.

You can thank Legend, they paid for it. Sky replied.

Wind swallowed hard, struggling a little, and shot Legend a funny look. Twilight had gotten worried for a moment that he hadn’t chewed enough. Gosh the stress of these kids.

It was no problem, Legend signed, coming up next to Sky from where they had been at the back of the group. They’d all been walking until Wind’s yell had stopped them in their tracks.

Mini had gone up to Sky soon after Wind, happily chomping on another pastry. Twilight hadn’t thought he was paying attention to their signed conversation but Mini tugged on Legend’s cloak and gave them a wide smile in thanks. Their teeth was full of mushed up pastry.

Legend, with the patience of a saint, smiled back.

“Looking a little rough there, Mister Hero.” An unexpected voice came from his left, and Twilight felt like he jumped a foot in the air in response. Twilight twisted around to see Ravio, leaning casually against a nearby tree, as if he hadn’t come out of nowhere. Knowing the way their jumps worked, maybe he had, indeed, come out of nowhere.

“Your hand is looking a little rough.”

Twilight looked down, and in surprised noted that Ravio was correct: he had been scratching at his skin the whole time, and it was looking a little raw. He forced himself to stop, biting down on his lip in self-reproach.

“Hey now, Mister Hero. You’ll only cut yourself like that.” Ravio came closer, rummaging in his large white sack. It had the symbol of a rupee on it but seemed to hold everything and anything its owner wanted it to. After rooting around for a moment, he produced a small something. “Here, try this.”

Curious, Twilight took it to see a round, rubber doughnut that was looped at the end of a leather cord, like a charm or pendant. He put it on.

What am I supposed to do with this? He asked.

“You can chew on it!” Ravio replied, enthusiastic. “It’s a Ravio-original! I made it for my Li-iiive in room-mate! Yes, my live-in room-mate. He also has a bit of a problem with sounds and the senses and what-not.”

Curiously, Twilight put it in his mouth and bit down. It was firm, but not too firm. It was perfect. Without thought he started chewing on it in earnest.

How much? He asked, mostly focusing on chewing. It was so satisfying. He never wanted to stop. Ravio could have fleeced him for all he had, and he would have said yes.

“For this? Mister Hero I couldn’t possibly charge you! We all need a little support when life gets a bit too overwhelming, don’t we?” Ravio grinned his patented merchant smile.

Twilight was touched. The outside world wasn’t the easiest for him: he got overwhelmed a lot by all the sights and sounds and noises. Even among the other Link’s who all had similar issues, Twilight sometimes felt like he was lagging behind the rest – he needed more breaks and quiet time and space to unwind. But maybe it wasn’t all bad. There were kind people out there who could support him with his issues, and kindness sometimes came from the least likely of places.

“Although... I wouldn’t mind your share of those delicious looking pastries. I am famished Mister Hero, like you couldn’t believe. Why, I was just in the middle of nowhere! And they look very delicious.”

Aaaand there it was. Twilight laughed, mouth wide and without the self-conscious awareness he usually would posses. His brand new toy dropped from his mouth and caught itself on the leather cord. He gave Ravio a hearty slap to the shoulder.

Never change, he signed, grinned, walking off. They had better get a move on.

“Eh? Mister Hero? Is that’s a yes? Hey! Is that an okay? Speak now or forever- oh wait, sign now! Or forever hold your peace. I’m taking it, it’s mine now. Okay? Okay!”

#txt #mywriting #linkverse #legend of zelda #twilight princess #it's linkverse CANON that the hero's spirit and all the links are autistic #and i love that for them #warning for character death mention #aka hero's shade

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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Here to Misbehave (Pt. 20 | S.R.)

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

A/N: Please read the content warnings for this one if you have basically any triggers, lol. This is a very heavy chapter - it is the penultimate climax of the story. Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Angst (NSFW) Content Warning: 🚨 IMPORTANT – READ BEFORE READING🚨 This episode covers a number of very dark topics, and should be approached at a time when you have support systems available. Potential triggering topics include: sexual assault, violations of consent, suicide, self-harm, pregnancy/termination, infertility, domestic dispute, fighting, and underage drinking, sex w/ blanket consent Word Count: 11K

MASTERLIST

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Rossi’s house was every bit as extravagant as I had expected. I had come in honestly hoping to be slightly disappointed so I could mock him for it, but, as always, he had to force his appearance to be as unnecessarily elegant as possible.

That being said, I was a little surprised to find that most everyone gathered in one spot - the kitchen. It was only to be expected, considering it was usually the happiest room in the home. That certainly remained true for Rossi. But they were also all gathered there because that was where the wine was – wine that I was not allowed to drink.

Rossi didn’t have a problem with it… Spencer did. Because of course he did. And while I politely declined when Rossi offered me some, anyway, I found another offer a little more tempting. Which explains why I found myself clutching Derek’s flask and draining half the contents quickly enough to remind him that I was, in fact, in college.

And if anyone were to ask, I would simply tell them that we were hanging out in the hall outside the bathroom to have a very deep and secret heart-to-heart about our shared love for a certain mop headed genius. It would have been the perfect cover to use on pretty much everyone except…

“Ahem.”

The sound of Spencer’s throat clearing behind me was enough to cause me to choke, and I quickly tossed the closed flask back to an already giggling Derek as I shouted, “Fuck!” I didn’t even turn around when his hand snaked around my hip. Instead, I just groaned.

“The narc’s here,” I whispered to Derek, but he knew better than to answer.

“The narc?” Spencer balked, much to his friend’s delight.

“It was fun while it lasted,” Derek offered in consolation, taking a swig out of the flask and earning a very defensive glare from my boyfriend. In fact, Spencer seemed downright pissed, which wasn’t what I had been expecting when I agreed.

Oops. What’s the male equivalent of a cat fight?

“Morgan, didn’t you lecture me about her drinking underage a few months ago?” he snapped, grabbing the flask from a more than willing Derek. Spencer sniffed the contents and immediately recoiled, tossing it back again.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” he mumbled, shooting a glance down to see me sort of just making heart eyes at the sight of my boyfriend being a stupid level of jealous that I'd been caught in the hallway with another boy.

“How does that make it better? That makes it patently worse,” he argued. Derek might have responded to it, too, if I hadn’t latched myself onto Spencer’s side.

“You’re so cute when you get all stupid and possessive,” I drawled, burying my face in his shoulder in what I think was supposed to be a playful kiss, but actually just ended up being a muffled laugh.

“That,” Derek chuckled, pointing to me teetering back and forth on my heels at Spencer’s side, “That is my cue to leave.” With one final wink, he whispered, “Don’t be too hard on him, Princess.”

Spencer’s angry sigh and entirely stiff posture should have served as my warning, but it was just funny to me at the time.

“They all think I’m the boss of us,” I giggled. “Me! The boss!”

“You’re drunk.” His tone dropped the second Derek was out of earshot, and on intimidation alone, he managed to back me against the wall.

“So is everyone but you. They won’t even notice,” I mumbled, although the more the hallway started to spin, the less I believed that. I'd never been very good at math or shots, and this was a pretty horrible miscalculation of just how much of my tolerance I’d lost.

“You really couldn’t wait a few more months? Or at least until we got home?”

He was chastising me, and I just wasn’t there to hear it. I probably could have figured it out if I’d tried, but it all sounded like sexy nonsense at the time. Walking my fingers down his chest, I paused at his belly before hooking them in his pants and pulling his hips against mine.

“I’m allowed to drink if my daddy says so,” I purred.

Spencer didn’t find my taunt as charming as I’d hoped, and before I knew it his hand was roughly pressed over my jaw. He tilted my head back to look him in the eyes, and I wondered if he could smell the whiskey on my breath.

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

I never said I was a perfect person, or even a smart one. And when I was drinking and Spencer whipped out his Daddy voice, I don’t know what he really expected me to do. But apparently, trying to grab his dick through his pants was the wrong move. He snatched my hand away quickly, slamming it against the wall before he continued his little impromptu lecture.

“I’m not rewarding you for this. We’re going home.”

“That’s not a very scary threat,” I deadpanned, throwing my body weight back against the wall.

That lasted about four seconds before he pulled me back to my feet and leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “Just wait, little girl. Just you wait until I get my fucking hands on you.”

I was going to make a snarky joke, to remind him that his hands were surely and firmly already on me, but I never got the chance. We were both too distracted by the very loud and very high pitched squeal of Penelope as she rounded the corner.

“Ah! I saw nothing!” she shouted, covering her face with her hands and refusing to remove them.

“Yeah, because we aren’t doing anything,” I laughed. But then, being the slightly cruel brat that I was, I stuck my tongue out at Spencer before tacking on a completely unnecessary, “anymore.”

“We weren’t doing anything before either!” he squeaked back. He wasn’t using his Daddy voice anymore. So swiftly, so easily, he’d been knocked from his higher footing.

Penelope took the words to heart, but only enough to slowly lower her fingers and peek between them. With a shaky voice and an awkward laugh, she started to rant. “Oh. It’s fine. I’m cool. We’re all cool. We don’t have to talk about that thing from the first time I met you ever again. Because we said we’d never talk about it again, do you remember that?”

“I do remember that,” I answered with a very sarcastic tone and a nod.

“And I just brought it up again, didn’t I?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

“I’m so sorry. Spencer, Hotch is looking for you,” she rushed, turning to the beet-red boy at my side. “Okay, that’s it. Take your time, because I’m cool and not at all mortified.” She was basically already gone before she'd even finished talking, taking off in the direction she'd come from while downing the drink in her hand.

With a loose, clumsy wave I shouted back, “Bye, Penelope.”

“Mortified is a good word. An accurate word,” Spencer huffed as he wiped a hand over his face. His bashfulness, while cute, was not as exciting as the pre-Penelope behavior.

Running my hands underneath his blazer and up his back, I pressed my chest against his. “Gosh, Dr. Reid. You need to be more appropriate in such a public setting.”

The words, while meant to get him riled up, did more to frustrate me. My drunken mind was more than happy to revert to the metro, and before I knew it, my daydreams were filled with images of Spencer stuffing me into the tiniest closet he could find and having his way with me.

“Oh, I’m the one lacking manners?” Spencer chuckled as he apparently read my very lewd thoughts. He pried my arms off of him and pulled them back to rest at my sides before pressing a strangely chaste kiss on my forehead. “Go get your stuff. I’m going to go talk to Hotch and I’ll meet you by the door.”

Before he disappeared around the corner, he shot me one last warning glance and ordered, “Do not mingle!”

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

Once he was gone, it was my job to figure out how to make my body work again. Luckily, it wasn’t the first time I’d had too much to drink in a room filled with drunk adults. Granted, they usually weren’t all cops, but, whatever.

Turns out, it somehow made it easier. I managed to grab my things off the counter without alerting anyone except Penelope, who quickly turned back around with a blush. She probably figured I was gonna go blow him in the bathroom or something. I’d have been offended if the thought hadn’t literally just crossed my mind. I made it all the way to the door before I heard it. Back through the halls, a few of the group had separated to talk about how much harder it had been to see Hotch and JJ. It was nothing, just a little bug spreading through daycares like wildfire. That wasn’t what upset me, though.

No, the thoughts running through my head were more than just a passing thought of kids sick with a cold. I looked up at the walls of the entryway to Rossi’s home and saw intricate moulding and nothingness. I saw the exquisite, pristine rug underneath my feet, and I thought about how lonely it felt.

I was standing in a house that should have felt happy, filled with friends and family and love. There was no doubt that everyone who was there wanted to be there, and probably had nowhere else they’d rather be. But the tall ceilings and thousands of square feet felt so goddamn empty.

It isn’t the building, I heard a tiny, terrified voice call out from inside my own conscience.

It’s you. You’re empty.

I had to leave. I had to get out of the house. I had to hear the silence so that the nothingness would feel more appropriate and less noticeable. I couldn’t let them see me, because if they saw me, they would know. They would know that I was nothing but a husk of the girl they used to know. Without even thinking, I threw the door open, stumbling forward and almost falling flat on my face as I misjudged the small step down to the patio.

“Fuck!” I muttered, the world rocking around me with a stubborn persistence. If it weren’t for the frankly freezing temperature, I was sure I would have been sick. To make matters worse, there was a person quickly approaching.

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

It was JJ. Thank god, it was JJ. Probably the only person who wouldn’t make fun of me for being a mess on Rossi’s steps after only a few shots of whatever Morgan was drinking.

“Oh. Hey, JJ. Yeah. He’s…” I turned to my side, half expecting Spencer to be there to answer for me. But he wasn’t, so I ended up just pointing to the closed door before slurring, “he’s doing a thing.”

She was, per usual, very kind when faced with my buffoonery, and just laughed as she shook her head. “A thing. Sounds like him.”

I honestly thought that would be the end of it. It was a good, easy segue into a farewell. She already knew we were leaving, and she knew Spencer well enough to know that he wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

And I think she almost did leave. She almost walked right past me and into the warmth and comfort of a home filled with family and friends. But she didn’t. She stopped and asked me the one question I was really hoping she wouldn’t.

“Are you alright?”

I didn’t want her to ask because I knew that I wouldn’t be able to lie to her. Even if I could have managed it, she would have seen right through me in a second. Not only would it have been an exercise in futility, but she would also know that I thought it was worth it to try to lie.

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

“No, not really. But it’s a lot and I’m kind of drunk, so…”

The mom eyes appeared so quickly, with JJ’s body turning entirely away from the door and over to me. “Not usually a good combination, but an understandable one,” she softly replied, wrapping her arms around herself to make up for the fact that she was sacrificing her comfort in many different ways to talk to me, instead.

She was probably just being nice— staying with me until Spencer could come take over the babysitting of the drunk twenty year old, but I wasn’t exactly thinking critically at the time. Which is only part of the reason why I blurted out the only thing on my mind; the thing that had been haunting me for longer than I wanted to admit even to myself, much less another person.

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

“Oh…” she mumbled under her breath, clearly unsure of how to handle that particular minefield of a topic. Especially with her best friend’s girlfriend, who also happened to be drunk. I almost told her to forget about it, but then she looked up at me with a powerful resolve. “Yeah, he has. Why?”

I thought about my next words more carefully, although you wouldn’t have been able to tell considering how much I stuttered.

“Do you think… Do you think he’d be happy if… I can’t have them?” I asked, wringing my hands together over my stomach. “Like, not just happy today, but like ten years from now?” I could hear how desperate I sounded, but I needed someone to hear the words playing on loop in my mind. Absolutely frantic and with tears pooling in my eyes, I asked, “Do you think he’d still love me if I can’t give him kids?”

“(Y/n), slow down. It’s okay!” JJ urged, lunging forward to cup my cheeks and gently wipe away any stray tears. “Don’t cry! You’ll ruin your make up and it looks like you spent a lot of time on it.”

I had to laugh because not only was it my exact brand of humor, she said it with such a serious face that I had to wonder if it was genuinely her biggest concern. Of course, I knew it wasn’t. In her usual JJ way, she just knew the easiest way to cheer me up was with a laugh.

“Yeah, there’s like $80 on my face, it’s really not worth it to cry,” I agreed, sniffling softly when she finally pulled away her hands. At least I could blame that part on the cold.

“Exactly. And if you cry, then I’ll cry, and then I’ll also ruin my make up, and we’ll just be $150 down the drain with nothing to show for it,” she joked with a tired roll of her eyes and a shrug.

Together, we laughed, finding a pocket of warmth in a world that often felt too cold. Behind JJ’s eyes though, I saw an empathy I wasn’t expecting. That small, instinctual part of my brain tugged at my heart, telling me that there was an unspoken bond forming. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t know why. I had a feeling that it was one of those secrets you just didn’t ask about, so I let it go.

“Thanks. It’s a stupid thought anyway,” I sighed, shuffling my feet and knocking my heels against the somehow spotless patio. “I don’t know what’s going to happen, so why stress about it, right?”

But then JJ said something I wasn’t expecting. Something that I actually really, really needed to hear.

“I don’t know, I think you’re allowed to be worried. It’s normal to feel scared.”

The sentence hit me like a freight train carrying lead and cement. At first, my brain refused to comprehend it at all. I struggled to repeat the idea, not because I was drunk but because it sounded so wrong. I had wanted it to be true so badly, and here she was, telling me it was okay.

Sensing my simultaneous trepidation and revelation, JJ cringed a bit when she said, “But I think it is a good idea to talk to Spence about it instead of me. Because, to be honest, I’ve also had one too many glasses to be helpful.”

That time when I laughed, it was full-hearted and involved every muscle in my body. “God, I love you, Jennifer,” I said through the noise.

She just shook her head, clearly enjoying the drastic mood swing she’d had a great part in. “I love you, too,” she whispered, running her hand over my shoulder and arm to pull me into a small half-hug. And that was how Spencer found us, giggling and sniffling on Rossi’s porch.

“Hey, are you ready to— Oh! Hey JJ,” he stopped, taking a very hesitant step forward in the hope that we wouldn’t both start crying on the spot. Drunk girls had a tendency to do that. “W-What are you guys doing out here?”

She let me go first, shoving her hand, still damp with my tears, into her pockets with a secretive smile. “Girl talk.”

“That usually doesn’t bode well for me,” Spencer answered with an awkward, nervous laugh. He didn’t make a move to grab me yet, probably too scared to step between the two of us. I was too busy giggling at the thought of his mind cycling through all the possible secrets I might have spilled in my uninhibited state.

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

JJ pulled two fingers over her mouth in a cheeky motion as she whispered, “My lips are sealed.”

“An even worse sign,” Spencer winced, turning to finally wrap his arm around me. He must have noticed the chill on my skin, because seconds later he had me practically wrapped in his coat. “I should just cut my losses and get her out of here, huh?”

“Shut up, old man,” I slurred, cuddling closer to his body heat despite my protests. Even in the darkness, I watched the heat bloom in his face at the nickname. By far, the worst part about the situation was the fact that I couldn’t kiss him, because I just knew he would be so warm, and I was really starting to get cold. I suspect that’s why he started to whisk me away, unceremoniously shushing me as JJ cleared her throat and raised her hand in a wave.

Before we got too far, though, I heard her speak again. “Oh! (Y/n), your questions!”

“What about them?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder and nearly falling to the ground as a result.

JJ looked at me, and then back to Spencer, whose arm was wrapped possessively around me. She smiled a pure, toothy grin that filled her face, causing that weird feeling in my gut to flare up again. She saw something in that moment that I wasn’t sure I’d ever really understand, but her voice started to crack just enough to notice when she called out, “The answer is yes. To all of them.”

—————————————————

The ride back to Spencer’s place was uneventful, though I tried very hard to make it interesting. After the fourth time he'd swatted away my hand and threatened to throw me in the back, I gave in to his demand to behave. I blamed my compliance on the alcohol, although it was probably more so a result of total exhaustion.

The respite from socialization was apparently what I needed to be able to function again, because as soon as we pulled into his apartment parking lot, I was awake.

... Awake enough to try and maul him in the hallway. But, in his sober stubbornness, he continued to evade my advances all the way until his front door clicked shut behind us. His hands on my hips had never felt like such a victory before.

“Did you enjoy wreaking havoc all night?” he whispered, slowly leading us towards his room. I couldn’t see where I was going, but I didn’t need to. Even without an eidetic memory, my body cherished this path and the memories it always led to. I trusted him to catch me if I stumbled. Which, I definitely did.

“I’m the cutest devil you’ll ever see,” I slurred.

“At least you admit it,” Spencer laughed. I couldn’t tell if it was at my words or the fact that I was failing terribly at trying to unbutton his shirt. My drunk self was not a skilled multitasker.

Once I felt the bed against the back of my thighs, I hopped on top of the covers before he could even try to help me up. It was muscle memory. We’d been there before.

“I’m feeling more fallen angel tonight,” I sighed, sliding against the comforter until I found his pillow.

Naturally, Spencer saw the way I gravitated to his side. He smiled as he removed his shirt that I’d left mostly intact. “By all means, feel free to stay that way.”

I probably should have taken off my dress, or my shoes, but I didn’t. The world sort of felt like a wave pool on a sunny day, and I was worried that if I paid too much attention to what was going on around me, I'd think about something I really didn’t want to think about.

I couldn’t remember what it was.

But then Spencer’s hands were gliding up and down my calves, and I shuddered at the contact. He took his time removing my shoes before coming up to join me on all fours. I wondered if he could taste the whiskey on my tongue when he kissed me. Did it remind him of the circumstances that had brought us together? Did it remind him of his hangover and sins?

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

My hands were tangled in his hair, pulling lightly to try to keep him there. And when he pulled away, I tried to fight him. I tried to follow him, scared that once the kiss was over, I’d start remembering things I probably should have tried to forget.

He must have seen the denial in my eyes, because he hesitated. His hand came up to lightly grab my wrist and lead my hand that had a death grip on his hair down to his face. “Are you too drunk? Should we stop?”

Throwing my head back with a groan, I tried not to hate him for actually caring about me again. “If you stop right now, I’m going to actually scream,” I droned. It got me a laugh, at least.

“That doesn’t comfort me in the slightest.”

Once I opened my eyes, I found myself wishing I hadn’t. It wasn’t that I saw hesitancy or fear in Spencer’s eyes – on the contrary, it was the lack of anything bad at all that bothered me. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but a sincere, pure adoration that I couldn’t argue with.

I chose to ignore it, instead. I couldn’t remember why it made my stomach hurt.

“Are you going to make me do a sobriety test?” I giggled, letting my hands travel down his shoulders and chest. I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I had been earlier. I wanted to take my time remembering what it felt like to be pinned under him and surrounded by his embrace.

“I’m positive that you’ve practiced those while drunk,” he playfully replied while trying to hide the way goosebumps followed my fingers as they trailed down to more interesting territory.

“Yeah, I can say the alphabet backwards and everything.”

It was meant as a joke, but Spencer apparently had some doubts. With a scrunched up smile, he laughed back as he asked, “Really?”

The fact that he believed I was capable of something like that might have been flattering if it hadn't been based on his incredibly flawed perception of my propensity to lawbreaking. But since it was based on ideas of immorality rather than intelligence, it just made me mad.

Smacking him lightly on the chest, I both pouted and laughed as I snapped back, “No, of course not, asshole!”

Spencer just grinned, giving a delayed wince at the offensive contact before he sat up again. I didn’t realize why at first, but as he slowly started to coax me into turning around, I remembered that I was, in fact, still fully dressed. I figured it was either his way of saying that I’d won, or just an excuse to take off the dress so I might actually go to sleep. I was fine with either.

“I was drunk the first night we met, if you’ve forgotten,” I mumbled, rolling onto my side of the bed and moving my hair so that he wouldn’t catch any in the zipper.

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

The nostalgia in his voice was both comforting and painful. We’d always joked about that night, though. It wasn’t an insult at all.

“No? Do you think about it often?” I replied playfully, forcing myself not to think too hard about whether he wished I was still the girl he'd met that day.

Spencer made it easy to forget, with his hand starting to draw the zipper down while he leaned forward to whisper in my ear, “I think about it all the time.” My breath hitched in my throat at the way his voice warped into a rough, raspy tone. “You almost made me believe that you were just some shy, innocent little girl.”

This time when he got me to turn back over, there was nothing gentle about it. His hands were clearly craving the kind of violence they got to use last time. I wanted to feel them again.

“We can make a new memory if you want,” I panted, looking up at him with wanton eyes and my dress loose enough to expose parts of my breasts to him.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the sight below him. He pressed his erection against my hip as he ran a hand over my cheek. “Tell me the rules.”

“I tell you to stop if I need to,” I carefully enunciated.

“Good girl,” he moaned, starting to rock against me. Struggling to pull my dress off himself, he pleaded in a slightly pitiful manner, “Can I…?”

I helped him, desperate to feel his skin against mine. I didn’t even think about what it meant for my dress to be gone. It wasn’t until Spencer’s mouth dropped to my chest so enthusiastically that I realized that he’d failed to stop and kiss my lips first.

With both hands on my breasts, he lavished each pebbled peak with his fingers and tongue. He hadn’t ever mentioned the fact that he’d missed me shirtless, but it was painfully obvious in the way his lips trailed along my body. It was obvious in the rumbling of his moans against my skin and the way his hands roughly kneaded the soft tissue.

I was forced to remember why I hadn’t let him see me topless.

I felt naked. Not because of the exposed skin, but because I couldn’t warp reality with lace or cotton anymore. My marred stomach might not have made a physical barrier, but it still made him feel so far away. It was a paralyzing kind of realization, and I felt myself retreat so quickly that it hurt.

Thankfully, it was Spencer who was kissing me. If it had been anyone else, I think I would have just laid there, terrified and small and alone. But I couldn’t do that with him.

“Spencer?” I quietly called, and he immediately stopped, his eyes meeting mine with all the attention a girl could ever ask for. I smiled, and the sensation almost felt foreign.

“Come kiss me here instead,” I said with a little giggle, tapping my lips to bring him back to where I wanted him. And he came to me so quickly, his mouth crashing onto mine in seconds and his hands tangling in my hair.

I had forgotten so quickly how easy it was to get lost in him. Thanks to the alcohol, my mind wasn’t able to stick with any thought for longer than a few seconds. Mixing that with Spencer’s hands and mouth, I was never going to be able to think in more than a few words at a time. And I shouldn’t have needed to, right? It was just sex. We’d done it many times before, and it had never been a disappointment. But there was a nagging feeling in the back of mind — some instinctual warning that told me I was doing something wrong.

I wanted him, so what could be wrong about that? There was nothing painful or unappreciated in the way he lined himself up at my entrance, and I certainly made that much clear. It was hard to even hear him over the sound of my own moans, and my nails dug into his shoulder as I guided him into me with my hips.

“I love you,” I cried, wrapping my legs around his waist and digging my heels into the back of his thighs.

“I love you so much, little girl,” he whispered against my lips, his forehead resting against mine.

For a moment, it was okay. The feeling subsided long enough for me to enjoy the fact that Spencer, the man I loved, loved me back. I thought about how long it had taken us to get to this point, and how I never wanted to lose it again. I held onto him for dear life, rocking my hips to meet his and bringing his mouth down to mine.

It was okay, until he spoke again.

“You’re such a good girl,” he groaned into my mouth, “even when you’re being bad you just want to be useful.”

Useful.

The word had come back to haunt me several times in the recent weeks. I hadn’t said anything about it because I couldn’t understand why it bothered me so much. There was no reason for me to be upset. He was just saying what I usually liked to hear.

So why did it hurt?

And I realized then, that the reason that experience felt so horrible wasn’t because of me at all. It was because it was Spencer. It was Spencer, the man I loved. There he was, trying to love me and comfort me and hold me and I…

In a rush of emotions and memories and repressed regrets, I was forced to face the fact that I had made a terrible mistake. The kind of mistake that if I didn’t do something about it in that exact, immediate moment, would become a disaster. The kind of disaster that meant he might never want to touch me again. The kind that would make him hate me. The kind that would make him leave and I couldn’t blame him for.

I had made a mistake.

“Wait, wait, Spencer, stop!” I slurred, my hands that had been holding him close seconds earlier shoving him off of me with the little force I was capable of. It didn’t take much, though, considering how fast he jumped back.

Frantic and terrified, he grabbed my face and tried to inspect my eyes that were avoiding him. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t look at him. “No, I just really need to stop,” I muttered, my breath picking up even more as I slid away from him, “Can I just— Can you just give me a minute?”

My hands slid over my chest, trying to hide the shame I felt inside to no avail. Spencer only made it worse in the way he quickly grabbed clothing, covering me in his shirt before he dressed himself. He even took the time to find me pants and help me in them, quietly and carefully. Like a doll.

I was going to be sick.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me,” he croaked brokenly while he curled up at my side, trying to wrap his arms around me before he realized I was shrinking away from his touch. He was so confused. He had no reason to know what was going on, but I could see on his face that he was desperately trying to figure it out.

“Does this have something to do with what you were talking to JJ about?”

An interesting question. I didn’t know the answer.

“Yes. No? Maybe. I guess?” I ran a hand over my face that landed on my throbbing temple. The lack of tears on my face almost surprised me. I probably should have been crying, but I wasn’t. In a way, it felt like I had no tears left to give. When I turned to him, bile rose in my throat and I was afraid that I might choke on it if I didn’t get the words out faster. I just had to tell him. He needed to know.

“Listen, I lied to you. And I need to say something.”

I had just gotten my breathing under control, just in time for his to go erratic. His pulse was visible in his throat as he swallowed. “Lied to me? About what?”

“I…” The world was rocking, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the alcohol or my brain trying to comprehend my own self-destructive stupidity. I knew which one I was going to blame, though. “Fuck, I didn’t think I was this drunk.”

“What did you lie to me about?” he repeated, his hands gripping handfuls of the sheet in hopes of stopping the rest of his body from trembling.

“Well, I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you.”

It was the most useless clarification, and it did absolutely nothing to appease his concern. The longer the words stayed stuck and muddled in my mouth, the more devastated he seemed. In hindsight, I would realize all the millions of awful reasons his mind must have been feeding him in the absence of the truth.

“Please, whatever it is, just tell me,” Spencer begged with a hesitant, shaky hand coming to rest on top of mine. He wasn’t looking at me anymore. Instead, we both looked down at our hands. It was a mercy and a disservice. I just had to tell him, but I couldn’t convince myself to do it without looking him in the eyes. That didn’t mean I wasn’t grateful that he didn’t look back, though. Because once the words were said, there would be no going back from them.

He was going to hate me.

“I… stopped taking my birth control,” I whispered in a voice that felt so foreign. “Like, a while ago.”

Spencer’s jaw steeled, his eyes widening and shooting up to me with the same speed he used to jump off the bed. Despite my efforts to grab him, to stop him from leaving me, he was five feet away in a matter of seconds.

“What?!” he shouted. It was the loudest I’d ever heard him. Even the echoes felt deafening, and my hands covered my ears with a wince.

“Shit! That was loud!” I whined in a pathetic attempt to make him feel bad for me. I didn’t deserve it, but I think it worked. Because the next time he spoke, it was at a more manageable volume.

“What do you mean you stopped taking your birth control?! When?!”

“Stop yelling at me.” I pulled my knees to my chest and ignored the pain in my stomach when I did so. It felt well deserved.

“You aren’t joking, either. Why didn’t you tell me this?” Spencer continued, his hands raking through his hair while he started to pace the room.

Nothing about it felt real. I felt like I was stuck in one of my million recurring nightmares. I just wanted to wake up, to be somewhere other than in a room too small for the bass in his voice. I only barely saw him when he finally approached me. He still stayed a few feet away, but he met my eyes that stared vacantly at the wall ahead of me.

“Answer me!”

Whether it was the order that broke me or the pain in his voice, all of my resolve and apathy shattered at once.

“You’ve always said you wanted to get me pregnant!” I screamed back, digging my nails into my skin in the hope of finding feeling there.

“Not like this! Not right now!” he scoffed. The sound would have hurt more if he hadn't stepped closer to me when he made it.

“Why not?!” I tried to sound angry, but all I heard was the plea beneath the words.

I just want to be useful. Please let me be useful.

“Are you serious?” Spencer’s disbelief was present in every ounce of his existence. His hands were alternating between fists and flat palms, his voice cracking and wavering in pitch. “What has gotten into you? You know that you can’t have a child right now.”

I bit down on my tongue in one final attempt to keep the scary words inside. But he couldn’t feel the way his words felt just like bullets and scar tissue that would never fully heal again.

“You almost died! Do you—“ he choked, but powered through his body’s attempt to stop the thought. “Do you understand the danger that would put you in?”

“I know, alright?! I know!” The words were loud and hoarse, and I covered my own ears to hopefully drown out the sound of failure on my own tongue. “I know I can’t have a fucking kid right now!”

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

He waited for my answer, but it stayed trapped in my head. When I started to rock in place, my hands still clamped over my ears and the tears I swore I didn’t have starting to fall, he sighed.

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

“Why?” I spat, sinking further into my spot in a purely selfish manner.

“Get up,” he said again, this time reaching out for my hand.

But I didn’t want to touch him. I didn’t want him to touch me like this. I was scared that if I did what he wanted, then the fight would be over. And if the fight ended, then what would be left? Was this all just some elaborate ruse to get me in his car so that he could drive me home and leave me there?

His hand touched mine so softly, with so much patience and love that it burned. Why wasn’t he angrier? He should be.

“No!” I screamed, smacking his hand away from me. Although I knew it didn’t hurt, I saw him wince at the contact. His lips flattened as he looked at the stupid sobbing girl on his bed.

Then he left. He turned on his heel, and with less patience that time, grumbled the explanation he'd refused to give before. “We’re going to the store and getting levonorgestrel so that you don’t make the stupidest mistake of your life.”

It wasn’t the words that got me to move, but the fact that he was quickly leaving the room. I scrambled after him recklessly, crashing into just about every stationary object in the way. The shock had hit me so hard that I forgot I was still drunk.

“Is it really that awful to imagine having a future with me?” I sobbed, chasing after him just to crash into him when he stopped.

He still caught me, but I couldn’t tell you why.

“You know that’s not what this is about.” He sounded so tired, but he kept going. He kept fighting with me even though I could see in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. “I love you, (y/n)! But you’re acting like… like a child!”

“Fuck you,” I seethed, pushing myself away from him.

I was scared that if I didn’t force our bodies apart, I would have fallen to pieces in his arms again. And I knew he would try to put me back together again. He would try to help me because that’s what he always did. But sometimes things are just completely, irrevocably broken. Sometimes there was simply no fixing it.

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

“I don’t need this shit and I don’t need to go to the store,” I muttered under my breath as I made my way back into the bedroom to locate my purse that I’d so gracefully thrown on the floor.

“(Y/n), just because the chances of pregnancy are low doesn’t mean they are nonexistent, and I’m not going to be the reason you throw your life away! You said yourself you aren’t ready to be a housewife!” I heard him rambling from the other room. Eventually, he followed the sounds of plastic packaging and rustling paper.

“Shut up,” I groaned, finally getting the tiny pill free and successfully shoving it in my mouth before I managed to drop it. “Just leave me alone, Spencer.”

Obviously, it wasn’t going to work. After all, I was in his apartment, and currently sitting cross legged in the middle of his bedroom and trying to dry swallow a pill that tasted a lot like every mistake I’d ever made.

“When did you buy that? And why do you have it with you?” He didn’t sound angry at all anymore. He didn’t even particularly sound annoyed or confused, just… exhausted.

“You’re welcome for saving you the drive.”

Of all the things he could have done, he chose the one I expected the least. He came to me, and carefully lowered himself to the ground in front of me. At first, that was all he did. He just sat across from me with puppy dog eyes and an awkward posture.

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

He sighed, waiting another second to catch his breath and let the earlier emotions settle in the air. “You had that in your purse. Why?” he asked as he reached forward to grab the remnants of the torn up box and confirm that it was what he thought it was. Once he was satisfied, he just sounded even more broken. “You’ve clearly thought about it enough to plan ahead, but apparently I wasn’t important enough to have a say in any of these decisions.”

The pain that was forming in my stomach hurt worse than the AR-15.

“Were you just… Just planning on making those decisions without even telling me?” He was on the verge of tears, though he tried his very best to hide it. It might’ve worked if I'd been both drunk and an idiot, but unfortunately the adrenaline was combatting the alcohol pretty well at that point.

With both hands covering his face, I could still see the way his jaw tensed between the words. “It would be my child, too,” he forced out, “You don’t— You don’t get to make those decisions without me. T-That’s not fair.”

The sounds were so pitiful, and I wanted to feel anything but what I felt. I wanted to feel angry or sad again, but I couldn’t. All I felt was hate; the most powerful, soul crushing self-loathing imaginable.

I didn’t want to be the reason he cried. I wanted it to stop, but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t control myself. I just kept rubbing salt in the wound so he would leave. So that I could hate him for leaving me instead of hating myself for making him.

“There’s no kid. I would’ve taken it either way.”

That succeeded in getting a response.

“Then what was the point of any of this?!” he fumed, dropping his hands to gestured to the state of us, dressed in pajamas and tears. “If you really believe that, then why tell me? Why risk it at all?!”

“I don’t know.”

“I deserve a better answer than that. That’s bullshit and you know it,” he demanded with an accusing finger.

But I didn’t know that it was bullshit. Really, it was the truth. I didn’t know why I was doing this. All I knew was that if I stopped, if I was just honest with him, I would have to face a reality I wasn’t ready for.

“I deserve the truth,” he said as his hand fell, unable to stay up under the weight of the feeling behind it.

I looked at him and I saw my mistakes in the form of tears trickling down his cheeks and a tremble in his lips. I saw a man who deserved nothing but the greatest love, begging me to give him something to work with. He wasn’t asking me for the world — he just wanted me to talk. To say something so that he could understand why I wanted him to hate me.

I didn’t have an answer. Not one that either of us would believe, anyway.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spencer.” My lips moved without my permission, and my legs quickly followed the traitorous pursuit.

“What does that mean?” he begged me as he followed me. He followed me like he always did, with that suffocating hopefulness that we could make it.

But what if I couldn’t? What if this was it for me? What if, in my desperate desire to push him away, I was saving him from a miserable life with me?

I was trying to save him.

“It means…” I paused, turning to look him in the eyes so that he might finally hear what he needed to in my answer. “It means you should’ve picked a different 20 year old to fuck.”

His jaw finally relaxed, dropping open with a broken breath.

And I think he saw it. I think he saw the way I meant the words from the bottom of my soul. He heard me tell him that he should regret me while I tried to walk away, and he knew that I meant it.

“I’m leaving.” The words surprised me when I heard them in my own voice, but I followed them, nonetheless. I barreled towards the door with bare feet and my keys in my hand.

“Where are you going? You can’t leave like this.” His statements were logical, but that only served to further piss me off.

“You can’t tell me what to do. I’m not your property!”

That wasn’t why I was angry. We both knew that wasn’t why. The real reason, the truth behind the reckless self-destruction was approaching too fast and I couldn’t slow it down. Nothing could stop it from rushing down the predetermined path that we stood on, and I was begging him to get off the tracks.

“If you leave right now, you’re going to fucking kill yourself!”

And then it happened. Practically foaming at the mouth with the unhinged rage that had been boiling underneath my skin for too long, I finally managed to let the words go.

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

Silence had never been so loud. It had never been that heavy.

“Have you ever stopped to consider that, Spencer?” I laughed because there was no reason in my mind not to. It all seemed so terribly obvious and we’d been skirting around it for so long. Why were we pretending like this was news? Like we hadn’t heard the horns and seen the headlights approaching?

“Please stop.” It was said like a plea but meant as an order. But I never listened to directions and he already knew that.

“I’m not your problem just because you were unfortunate enough to fall in love with me,” I continued, finding a freedom in being able to finally say what I’d been thinking all along. “Put me out of my fucking misery, Spencer. Just let me go.”

“Stop!” he shouted, pulling fistfuls of his hair as his chest heaved with deep, rasping breaths. I’d heard that voice from him before, but only once. The memories were locked away in the part of my brain that I swore to leave locked up.

I was back in the bank. I could feel his hands slipping in blood on my stomach and pressing into my cheeks. I was in the ambulance again. His hands were so warm that they burned, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask him to leave. I'd had one foot in the grave then. I felt like I was still there, teetering over the edge with nothing but Spencer’s frantic breathing and desperate begging keeping me from jumping in.

“Stop saying that!” Spencer ordered, his hands letting go just enough to come back down on his head with some force. I jumped at the contact and wondered when I'd started feeling his pain, too. I wondered when we'd found ourselves back in his apartment again.

“Y-You aren’t going to die!” He continued. It didn’t have the force of an order or the pathetic breaking of a cry. It was just a statement he was trying to will into existence. An attempt to ward off memories that reminded him he was capable of losing me. He had already almost lost me once. In a way, it was this same scenario.

It was just that he wasn’t losing me quickly from a gunshot wound. No, I was bleeding out in an entirely different way.

“You can’t— I can’t lose you. I can’t do it again,” he sobbed, falling to his knees and not caring at all about the bruises that would follow. The sight of him collapsing in on himself was terrifying, and I realized for the first time the true consequences of my actions. I couldn’t pretend that I was trying to save him anymore. I couldn’t listen to the congested, barely comprehensible ramblings of a man begging me not to want to die and act like I was thinking of him at all.

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

“Please, anything but that. You can hate me forever, but please don’t…” The words trailed off, and I felt compelled to answer them. I needed something to release the knot in my chest and allow my lungs to fill again.

“I don’t hate you, Spencer. I could never hate you.” The words were infuriating in their honesty, but he needed to hear them. He needed to know that none of this was his fault, that he’d done nothing wrong other than meet me.

I couldn’t leave him like that. He deserved so much better than me, but that was all that I had. So, I climbed down next to him, reaching out to him and hoping that he would hold me back.

To my surprise, he did. His hands grabbed mine like they were a lifeline, bringing them to his lips wet with tears. And although he was silent, I could hear the way he prayed that they wouldn’t fade away from him again.

“I-I… I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell you. I’m supposed to be the adult here, I’m supposed to know how to fix these things, but I have no idea what I’m doing, (y/n).”

It was an admission Spencer didn’t often make. The complete helplessness and inability to fix the puzzle before him didn’t just hurt because it was painful to watch, it was also just another reminder of his limits.

One time he had promised me that he wouldn’t let anything hurt me. I should have told him that it was a stupid promise to make then. I should have showed him the skeletons in my closet and the mess in my hands.

But it didn’t matter anymore. He had already seen it, and it was too late. I’d made too many mistakes, and I had to face them. I couldn’t run away anymore. That meant listening to Spencer, pouring his heart out to me and clutching my hands like they would turn to nothing in front of him.

“You’re falling apart and you won’t talk to me. I don’t know how to make this stop hurting. I don’t know how to help you. Sometimes you’re so happy but other times I can see it in your eyes…”

Our eyes met, unguarded, for the first time in what felt like hours but was actually probably only a few minutes. We looked into each other’s eyes and tried to read each other’s minds. I didn’t know what he saw, but I heard the way it struck him.

“Do you… Do you want to leave me?” he asked.

And I realized then, that was what my behavior was leading up to. That was what my mind was racing towards, without ever considering whether it was what was best for me. Because I wasn’t thinking about what was best for me, or what I wanted, or what I should want. All I cared about was the same concern Spencer had for me— I didn’t want him to throw his life away just to be with me.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

Spencer heard something in my question that brought life back to his eyes. I wished that I could hear his thoughts because he always seemed so much farther ahead. Like he could see the immediate future and knew what would follow.

Then again, maybe I was just idealizing him. I had a tendency to do that. He wasn’t a superhero. He was just a man, trying his best in a world that never really let him rest. I certainly didn’t help with that.

“No. No, that’s not what I want at all,” he said, his hands finding the courage to let go of mine and slide up my arms. He cupped my face with such an urgency and relief that it almost felt the same as before I had uttered those terrifying words. “I told you I want to marry you and I wasn’t kidding.”

It only took a few words for any progress and vulnerability to be obliterated. Four words. That’s all it took.

I want to marry you.

A white picket fence is what I’d promised him. I'd painted a vivid image of us with two children that were just like him. A normal, domestic life is what I’d said.

I hadn't known. I'd made a mistake. I had lied.

“Stop fucking saying that!” I wished the fight would leave my body and let my weary muscles rest, but it kept coming back. Sure as the sun rises in the morning, I couldn’t let go of the hatred. It had to go somewhere, and Spencer continued to be the stupid, stubborn man putting himself in front of me without any defenses.

I don’t think he was expecting that, though. He jumped back at the sound, his hands bracing his fall as I flailed to get away from him. I didn’t have the energy or coordination to stand, so I just let myself fall to pieces on the floor in front of him.

“Stop telling me about this future you have planned for us b-because I’m a useless, idiotic fuck up, and it’s freaking me the fuck out!”

Naturally, the only thing that could incense Spencer more than violating his trust was, apparently, talking badly about myself. Because as soon as he heard the words, he was wound up just the same.

“What are you so afraid of?!”

Without thinking about the words, implications, or consequences, I gave him the answer he fought for. I gave it to him because I couldn’t hold it any longer. I gave it to him and hoped that it would grant me the closure he sought, too.

“That I won’t ever be able to give you a baby and you’re going to fucking leave me!”

Spencer, in all his shock and disbelief, could only utter back a single, exasperated, “…What?” The way the word fell out of his mouth almost sounded like a laugh, the side of his lips curling into an almost imperceptible smile.

“I’m scared that when I stop being useful to you, you’re going to leave me like everyone else,” I explained, my voice as small as I felt in that moment.

But Spencer, in his uncanny ability to predict the future, was trying not to smile. Don’t get me wrong — he wasn’t laughing at me, and the words certainly brought him no joy. But there was something else buried beneath the suffering.

“Come here,” he requested with a sad, small grin and a wave of his hand. When he saw the hesitance on my face, he beckoned me closer again with more feeling. “I want to talk to you. Come here.”

So I came. I came as close to him as I could. And as I practically sat in his lap, I remembered how much easier it was to breathe when he held me, and how much lighter the tears felt when he wiped them a way.

“Why do you think I’m going to leave you?” he asked through a chuckle, like the very notion was so unbelievable that it couldn’t be uttered as anything other than a joke.

“Y-You want kids,” I mumbled, looking down at our t-shirts wet with tears. I played with the hem of his to remind myself that we were both still there. And although Spencer sympathized, he didn’t seem too keen on me looking away at that particular moment. With a gentle finger under my chin, he guided my eyes back to his.

“Okay. So do you, right?”

“Well, yeah…” I paused and pursed my lips and bit down on the bottom one. I waited until he raised his eyebrows in a challenge before I explained. “But what if I can’t have any?”

Spencer’s face scrunched up with his shoulders in a dismissive shrug, “There are other ways to have kids. I’m not worried about that at all.”

Just like that, he’d waved away my fears of inadequacy and failure like they were smoke from an already snuffed out candle. He made it so clear so quickly that biology wasn’t the thing that mattered. That it wasn’t my genetics or physical traits that made him want to share a literal life with me.

Spencer didn’t need me to have his children; he just wanted me to raise some with him.

“Why are you worried about that? Did something happen?” he pressed forward, unsatisfied with the idea that I might still be carrying some heaviness without his assistance.

“The doctor told me that I might not ever be able to have my own kids and I just...”

I should have known better than to doubt the insistence of his greedy hands. They would never let a burden belong solely to me. And I… didn’t want to bear the weight alone anymore, either. The dam was broken, and my heart came rushing out into his waiting arms.

“I’m so tired of it, Spencer. I’m tired of this stupid shit stealing my life away from me. You’ve been taking care of me for months, a-and the way you look at me sometimes-- I can see it on your face. I can feel the way it hurts you just to look at me.”

That hurt flashed in his eyes right then but faded with a swiftness I hadn’t seen in a long time. He didn’t want me to see it yet. One fight at a time, I heard him think. When this shifted load balanced between us again, we could figure the rest out.

First, we had to settle this. It had to end.

“If I can’t give you children, and I can’t... I can’t make you happy then—“

“Stop,” he demanded, his finger coming up to cover my lips. There was no argument to be made at his protest. With a deathly seriousness veiled with bowed brows and a lip that still trembled, Spencer whispered to me, “You can feel however you want to, but you don’t get to decide how I feel.”

Tears welled in both of our eyes, threatening to fall with the other. But they didn’t, they stayed pooled at our lashes and drowned us in visions of haloed lights and blurry reflections.

“I am so happy with you. No matter what. Every second of every day. Do you understand me?”

The only answer I had the strength to give was my surrender. Collapsing forward into his arms, I buried my face into his shoulder. I reveled in the warmth of his chest and the strength of his hands on my back. I felt his heartbeat against my cheek as the deep, joyful breaths he took in came out as relieved laughter.

“I love you, (y/n).”

He must have heard, or at least felt, my soft groan in response, because he peeled me off of him with a smirk. “What’s wrong now?” he asked in an equally tired whine.

“You only use my name when you’re angry or sad,” I grumbled through a pout. It only felt a little silly, to joke about something so stupid minutes after screaming our hearts at each other. We were just so tired, and the finish line was in sight. We just wanted to cross it together, and preferably with less tears involved.

Spencer didn’t say any of that, but I felt it, nonetheless. It was clear in the way he pushed my hair from my face before running his fingers down my jaw. “I use your name when I’m worried,” he corrected. “And you scared me tonight. I’m sorry that you’ve been feeling this way.”

We were toeing the line back into heavy emotions, and I shook my head to ask him not to take me back there tonight. But I couldn’t blame him at the same time. He’d so gracefully handled all of my fears and rage; he deserved a chance to voice his own. They’d fallen so far behind in the race towards the truth.

“I understand you were scared to tell me, but...” he stopped, trying to find a way to explain it without hurting my feelings. He really was too nice to me.

“I know. It was stupid. I feel terrible,” I finished for him. Once my face hit his shoulder again, I closed my eyes. “I’m sorry, Spencer,” I said with almost all of the energy I had left. He stroked soothing patterns over my back, and after a moment I realized that we’d started to rock. I wasn’t sure if it was for his benefit or mine.

“I appreciate your apology, but please promise me that you’ll talk to someone about this,” he humbly requested, his words muffled in my hair.

“Isn’t that what I’m doing right now?”

It was almost a joke. Spencer wasn’t going to let it go, though. “Don’t try to be clever with me, little girl. I need you to talk to someone who knows how to help you,” he playfully scolded.

Through a yawn and a chuckle, I pressed on in my attempt to end the night on a horrible joke. “Isn’t that your whole job?”

“Yeah, I guess it is sometimes, huh?” he agreed halfheartedly. Really, he was only trying to give me a little bit of a win. We both knew his job wasn’t very good at helping people before the fact. It was just another poor attempt at avoiding healing. I had been holding on to that anger so tightly that there wasn’t room for us in the space that was left.

“But I think you also know I can’t be that person for you,” Spencer eloquently said, cradling my head as it started to rock with each motion.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “I promise.”

I’m not sure how long we stayed like that, but no matter what, it wouldn’t have lasted long enough. The rhythm of his heart evened out over time, settling into the lullaby I needed to finally find some rest. But realistically, we couldn’t sleep there. Spencer was kind enough to practically carry me back into the bed we had shared when this all started, although this time he laid beside me.

From there, he helped tuck me in and pressed a chaste kiss to my forehead. My eyes were closed, but the smile that spread over my cheeks was enough of a signal that I was still awake.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

My bloodshot eyes opened at his call, and I found love staring back at me. I knew he could see my eyes bouncing back and forth as I tried to see all of it at once in his eyes, and I didn’t care. Even when he kissed me, neither of us closed them.

“We don’t have to worry about anything,” he said as our mouths broke apart. His thumb swept over my cheeks to all the places I knew he was thinking about kissing. There was a very poor attempt to hide his smile at the thought of the future, but I appreciated the effort he put in.

“When you’re ready to try to have kids, I’ll be right there with you,” he said.

It was clear that Spencer really wanted it to be a meaningful sentiment, but I was still a little bitter at his failure to laugh at my previous terrible jokes. So when I saw the opportunity, I took it swiftly and with no regrets.

“I sure hope so, or else I don’t think it’ll work,” I muttered through the side of my mouth before turning onto my back.

Spencer’s first carefree giggle of the night was my prize, and I couldn’t have loved it any more. “That’s my little girl,” he cooed, curling up against my side and wrapping a possessive arm over my chest.

Just before my eyes fluttered shut, I saw movement below my face. I kept them open long enough to see his pinky presented to me and a knowing look in his eyes. “Everything will be alright as long as we have each other,” Spencer offered.

And despite our bad history with promises, I had no reasons left to doubt that one.

—————————————————

| Part 21 |

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid series #h2m #spencer reid self insert #angst #smut

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shortprince-cos · 3 years

Text

Presents Or Pranks?

Summary: Janus assumes his "secret admirer" is a prankster, but a familiar face proves him wrong.

Ship: Romantic Moceit (Patton x Janus)

Warnings: Stabbing mention (doesn't actually happen i swear-), pranking mention, high school, Valentine's Day(?). Tell me if I need to add anything else!

Note: Happy Valentine's Day!!! Hope you have a good day regardless of if you have a s/o or not! Also i forgot that Valentine's day wasn't on a school day this year, so ignore that cause i didn't want to rewrite it. Pretend its an AU.

Thank you to @emy-loves-you for helping me with some plot (and basically every other fic I've written)!

~~~~~

If there was ever a time for Janus to develop anxiety, it would be now.

For weeks he had been wondering who kept putting letters - love letters - in his locker at least twice a week. The last letter had said to meet him here, under the bleachers on the football field, after school, on Valentine's Day.

There were two possible situations that this could turn into: One, this was a really elaborate prank and he was about to either get humiliated or stabbed, whichever came first, or two, someone who has a crush on him was about to meet him, and he would have to break their heart or make out with them.

At least if he gets attacked he can defend himself, and humiliate the stranger instead. If it was an admirer, then they would both be humiliated.

He hoped it was a prankster, because if the person was real, they seemed really sweet, and Janus didn't want to do that to them.

It's probably some straight girl who wants a bad boy. It wouldn't be the first time that had happened, but Janus was tired of explaining that he was gay to every girl he ever crossed paths with.

The letters and gifts had always been very stereotypical, like ones you would see in rom-coms and books. They usually consisted of chocolates, little poems, and pressed yellow flowers.

They were all really sweet gifts (especially the chocolates), but Janus still couldn't help but worry over who the 'admirer' was.

Janus anxiously checked his phone. The stranger was seven minutes late.

It was probably a prankster, and he was probably being filmed right now. Janus looked around, but all that was there was an empty football field.

Janus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Would a prankster even put this much effort into a joke? This was going on for weeks, and unless this person really hated Janus, he doubted it was a prank. As awful as that was.

Who would even have a crush on Janus, anyway? He wasn't exactly nice or pretty, he was mean and- well, he wasn't ugly, but he definitely wasn't charismatic.

His whole aesthetic was 'stay away from me', so he always wondered why that seemed to attract girls to him, until Remus enlightened him.

"They want a bad boy." Remus explained one day. "They think the idea of an angry guy with a soft spot only for them, is sexy."

"That's stupid." Janus had replied.

And it was stupid- is stupid. What kind of girl wants someone who's mean to them? Janus blamed the Twilight saga.

Janus checked his phone again. Eleven minutes late.

Janus cursed and decided to call it quits. He picked up his backpack and started walking towards the parking lot before he heard someone shouting something behind him.

He looked back towards the football field to see a short, blond, boy, running at him as fast as they could.

"W-Wait!" They yelled.

Janus waited for the short person to catch up, when they did, they put their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath.

They looked kind of familiar, but everyone does when you go to the same highschool.

"Sorry- sorry!" The stranger looked up at him with blue eyes looking through round glasses. "I'm so sorry I'm late! I promise I didn't mean to be, but my teacher wanted to talk to me after class about my grades, and I tried to tell her I was late, but she wouldn't listen! And then my friends wanted advice about their gifts for their partners, and I got caught up! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting!"

Janus knew he should probably be listening to what the shorter boy was saying, but all his mind was thinking was that he was rather adorable.

"W-What?"

Oh, did he say that out loud?

Janus smirked. "You're adorable when you're rambling."

The boy blushed quickly. "I- u-uh- thank you?"

Janus chuckled. "So, you're the one putting those gifts in my locker?"

The blue-eyed stranger shifted on his feet. "Y-Yeah, I did. I did wanna talk to you about that! Which, is the whole reason we're here- obviously- why else would we-?" He giggled nervously. "Anyway, the reason I put those there is because...uh- I kinda- maybe sorta...like you?"

"Why?" Janus immediately asked.

"I- what?"

Janus crossed his arms. "You said you liked me, and I want to know why."

"O-Oh. I didn't expect you to- uh- ask that?"

"Well, do you have a reason, or-?"

"No- yeah! Of-of course I do...you-you want to hear it?"

"No, I just asked because I was curious." Janus answered sarcastically.

"R-Right. Yeah, okay, um- well-"

Janus smirked as he saw the shorter one fumble over his words.

"Well, over winter break? You uh- you volunteer at an animal shelter in the next town over?"

Janus' eyes widened in shock. "How did you-"

"I work there too! I do every weekend when I'm at my dad's house! Uh- anyway, I saw you there over winter break, and you were just so...soft, with the animals, and it was really cute to see you playing with kittens, and you always took the older dogs on walks because they were sad they never got adopted, ooh! And then you helped me carry some boxes in that one time 'cause no one else was, and you kinda called me pretty? I guess that part isn't as important, heh- oh my gosh I'm rambling! I'm sorry!"

Janus was shocked at how specific this guy's examples were. Then he thought about the situations again.

"You had blue hair."

The bubbly boy's face lit up. "You remember me?"

"A little. You cried when puppies got adopted."

"Can you blame me?! I loved playing with them, and I just wanted to make sure they got a good home!"

Janus outright laughed - which, if you talked to Janus' friends, they would claim that Janus only laughed when a kid fell off a bike.

"S-Sorry- I-" Janus laughed a bit more. "That was the most innocent thing I've ever heard."

The blue-clad boy pouted and crossed his arms in the least intimidating way possible.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry!" Janus apologized while still chuckling slightly. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. A-Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that okay I'll be going now-"

"Wait." Janus said before the smaller one ran off. "What are you doing tonight?"

"O-Oh! I'm not doing anything...why?"

"The dance tonight? Would the unnamed stranger in front of me like to go?"

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry, I totally forgot to introduce myself! My name's Patton!"

Janus smiled. "Alright then. Would you like to go to the dance with me, Patton?"

Patton immediately blushed more. "Oh gosh, you don't have to-"

Janus took Patton's hand in his own and brought it up to his lips. "Now why wouldn't I want to take my beautiful admirer to a nice dance?" He pressed a kiss to Patton's knuckles and watched as Patton's face turned even redder.

"I-I...y-yeah, I wanna go with you!" He squeaked out.

Janus dropped Patton's hand. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Y-Yeah, sure!"

Janus picked up his bag again as Patton started to gather his as well. "Oh, and, Patton?"

"Yeah?"

"I hope you know that I will have to repay you for those presents you gifted me."

Patton sputtered. "You don't have to! I just wanted to give you something-"

"Nope, too late, I've already decided." Janus started walking back towards the parking lot. "See you later, cutie!"

Thinking about the future dance, Janus decided that maybe an admirer was better than a prankster after all.

~~~~~

Sorry this is so short, but I thought something was better than nothing! I hope you guys enjoyed!

General Taglist: @resident-crow-goth @macademmia @theantisocialghost @foreverfangirlalways @emo--nightmaree @moxy--sanders101 @quinnthequeer @gattonero17 @trashno0dles @tranquil-space-ninja @chaotic-murder-muffin @lugooble @sander-crossing @princess-rosie @sleepyysoot @hi-its-tutty @lookingforaplacetosleep @sarcasmremovedsoul @corkeecoderyt @drarrymalecsolangelo @private-snippers @girl-who-reads @emy-loves-you @reptilian-with-scallions

Ask to be added or removed!

Reblogs are appreciated!💖

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #moceit #romantic moceit #valentines day #ts patton #ts janus #kawaiikat54 fic #patton sanders #janus sanders

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redridinnghood · 3 years

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How should I call it?💕 Part 1

Hello There,

I'm Back with a new Story, Story will contain more parts and be a bit slow burn.

You meet a man with a Addiction and other Problems. For example he doesn't have any Impulse Control. Can you work it out? Can you help him heal? Or will he be your End?

What happens when you meet a certain Chaotic blonde?

Polyam relationship between Rafe, JJ and Reader. Don't like, don't read.

(Y/N Pov)

The first time I met him it was a late Summer Night. Met is the wrong word, I found him lying in an Back alley behind some Fancy Club.

He was clearly under the Influence of some Drugs and Probably Drunk as Fuck. But I couldn´t just leave him there like that at three in the morning. Should I call an Ambulance? Shit but I couldn´t risk it to pay for it. On the other Hand he needed defiantly help. I let out a deep sigh. Y/N how do you get yourself always in such situations? Leaning down I check his pulse, it´s fast but not dangerously fast. His skin is hot nearly Burning and his breathing is uneven.

Gently I stroke his head. ”Hey Man wake up, you shouldn´t sleep here it’s Dangerous.” My Voice is soft, I know how People under the Influence can act out. He just slightly lifted his head he tried looking at me, he failed his Head rolled Back. His Long limbs splattering out on the Pavement. Dam it! “Can I call someone to pick you up?” Voice still soft. He shook his head slightly. No. “Okay that’s not a big Deal do you live anywhere near here? I could call you an Uber and bring you there.” My Voice sounded a little more desperate. He blinked slowly. “No..” his Voice was raspy and sounded worn out.

Again I sighed deep. I held my Hand out for him, “Come on Big Boy, you can crash at my place but I can´t carry you so you need to help me a little bit.” He blinked Again slowly he reached out to take my hand. As I got a grip I pulled him up at first into a sitting Position, scared he might throw up. I waited a few seconds than I helped him up on his feet. He stumbled into me but I managed to help him stay Upright.

He groaned, he was distressed, his Head spun and he is pretty worn out. Yeah I know how it feels being slightly overdosed, not from my own experience but from a few people I grew up with.

His body felt Hot and I could feel his shirt being drenched in his own sweat. He needed a shower and to take of his drenched clothes. Slowly I made my way towards the big Apartment complex dragging him with me. Thank God it wasn´t far away, finally we reached the building climbing up some stairs.

As I put my Keys into the door I felt him clinging to me as if his life depended on it. It kind of did, I mean this neighborhood isn´t peaceful. Isn´t good to people who fall asleep on the pavement. After a few moments of struggling with the door it finally opened. Gosh when will the Landlord finally repair those fucking doors. Carefully they made their Way into the small apartment. I placed him on the couch.

“Alright Big Boy, can you tell me your Name?” Voice Soft but louder than before. Blue eyes with giant orbs fixated me, Truthfully he was quite Handsome. “Rafe” I heard his hoarse Voice. “Okay” I smiled a little. “We need to get you out of those dirty Clothes. It would be best if you would take a Quick Cold Shower.” He nodded absently. I walked out of the small living room into my Bedroom, searching for a few clothes my best friend Luca always left here. It were just a pair of gray shorts and an old Band Shirt but that would do it, Just in case I put a pair of Boxer in the pile. Since Luca wouldn´t wear them again I could throw them Away. I walked back into the Living room handing him the Clothes.

“Here take those, and there is the Bathroom. It´s nothing special.” He nodded and took the clothes. Slowly like in slow motion he got up steading himself on the couch. Than he reached for the wall because he started stumbling a bit. “Don´t look the door in Case you faint and keep in Mind it should be a cold shower.” I said loud enough so he could hear me but not loud enough to be shouting. When I heard the Water in the shower I started preparing the couch for him. After I prepared the Couch I filled a big Cup with water and placed it on the small Table. I made myself a tea and waited in the Kitchen area for him to finish. As he walked by I could just confirm my statement.

He was Handsome, beautiful Face with storming blue Eyes, he was Tall and had Dirty Blonde hair. When he spotted me he looked at me intensely. I just smiled “You are ready, that’s good I prepared the Couch for you and some Water. I will hop in the shower next If you want I can throw your clothes into the washing machine.” He looked at me and nodded I took a deep inhale. “I hope the cold shower lifted the fog a little bit of your mind.” His Gaze softened. “Yes, thank you” his voice was still cracking and the small smile he gave me didn´t quite reach his eyes.

Giving him a small nod I disappeared into my small Bathroom. The old blue tiles were still a bit wet I looked around and found his small pile of clothes throwing it into the Machine with my clothes. Turning her on, on a short Program so she would be ready in 20 minutes. As I stepped into my shower letting the Hot water embrace me. So I started thinking. He doesn´t Look Poor, his clothes seem to be pretty expensive. So what is he doing here? And why did I help him, I mean yeah I couldn´t just left him there I mean I could have. Why didn´t I just called the Police? It didn´t matter anymore he would crash here tonight and be gone tomorrow. Leaving the shower I hop into an old shirt and some panties hanging up the freshly washed clothes.

As quietly as possible I walk down the apartment into the bedroom. Soft snores coming from the Man, so I stop and look at him. The way the slow sunrise aluminates his Body makes him look so peaceful so out of a fairytale. Realizing that I just stared at a Stranger while he slept I quickly kept going. Carefully I lay down in my Bed, its full of Pillows and I have a few Books laid out on the other side. Sleep came faster than expected.

(Rafe Pov)

A soft humming sound wakes me gently I open my Eyes. Where am I? This is not the new Mansion? Not the Hotel where I usually stay when I go out.

It´s a small living room with a weird combination of furniture but it looks Good. Kind of. It seems cozy. Slowly I sit up stretching out. Wait those are not my Clothes. What the actual fu…

“Good Morning Big Boy” I hear a soft Voice. Why does it sound so angelic? Turning around I spot a Young girl in the Kitchenette. It´s probably her apartment.

“Want some coffee?” she asks while turning around grabbing a cup. “Sure” I reply while standing up and walking towards her. As I reach her she hands me a Baby Blue Mug with Puppy´s on it. Really?

She smiles, a smile so pure I never seen before. “thanks” I answer as I take the Mug. “Milk is in the Fridge and Sugar there.” She points at a small Container. “You want some Breakfast? I suppose after your consumptions yesterday you are pretty Hungry.” She asks while I pour some sugar in the Mug. “ This would be really nice.” I give her a small smile. My Memories of yesterday are coming back slowly. Why did she take Me in? Rafe takes a moment to Look at her, really look an her.

She is small around 5`3 her (Y/H/C) is tied in a lose ponytail her Skin looks so smooth and her (Y/E/C) are trained on the food she´s making. She is not skinny but also Fat, She´s just Beautiful.

But at the same time I´m concerned, why did she took a stranger in? What if I had Lashed out on her? “ Thank you for Yesterday. I.. Honestly I´m really grateful but you could have gotten Hurt.” I swallow the Lump in my throat. “I could have Lashed out on you or something.” She hands me a plate with scrambled Eggs and some Toast. “Come let’s sit down and eat.” She just rounds me and sits down on the couch placing her plate on the small table and mentioning me to sit back down where I slept the last night. I obliged.

“Listen I´m Fine and that’s all that counts. You didn´t Lash out. You didn´t hurt me. And I couldn´t let you stay there.” Her Voice was genuine. It feels weird having someone so lovely not fearing me. Everyone fears me. “I.. Thank you.” I was dumbfounded she was right and I shouldn´t think about what if´s. Peacefully she sits next to me eating her Breakfast so I also start eating.

And oh my I never thought scrambled Eggs could taste so good. “This really good.” I smile at her, and she smile´s Back. “Thanks” she mumbles, she is cute.

Than it struck me I don´t even know her Name. “Hey.. um.. I think you didn´t tell me your Name…so.. What is your Name?” Why am I so Nervous. “ (Y/N). My Name is (Y/N)” I felt like my Heart skipped a beat the way she smiled and how soft her voice was. We ate the rest of our Breakfast in silence. It´s weird but I didn´t want this moment to end. I don´t know when it was the last time I felt so at ease. So content with myself. After Breakfast she handed me my Clothes and I changed. When it´s time to say goodbye and go our separate ways I find longing for staying. As if she could read my mind she hands me a small piece of paper. Confused I Look at her. “My Number. In case you need anything like a place to crash or something. Or just want to talk. I´m here.” Her gentle smile mesmerizes me and I can´t help it but embrace her in my arms hugging her. Carefully or she might break. “Thank you so much. I will defiantly reach out to you.” I say a little to enthuasstic. When I realise hear I hear a small giggle. I´m making my way down the stairs notifying my Dad I won´t be home for a few Days. Then massaging my dealer that I need some new Stuff.

After that I stare at the small pice of Paper, alright nothing to lose. It's late when I send her a Message, just a basic Hi.

#outer banks #drew starkey #rafe cameron #jj maybank #jj outer banks #rafe obx #jjxreader #jj imagines #jj imagine #rafe x reader #rafe imagine

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agentnico · 3 years

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The Suicide Squad (2021) Review

This may be the better of the two, but the first Suicide Squad film will always hold the crown for managing to win an Oscar... somehow.

Plot: The government sends the most dangerous supervillains in the world -- Bloodsport, Peacemaker, King Shark, Harley Quinn and others -- to the remote, enemy-infused island of Corto Maltese. Armed with high-tech weapons, they trek through the dangerous jungle on a search-and-destroy mission, with only Col. Rick Flag on the ground to make them behave.

“So that’s it, huh? We’re some kind of suicide squad?” says Will Smith in the original first film, with the line in itself being a poor attempt at a fourth wall break, yet, that movie never reached that promise of being a true Suicide Squad film. Because hardly anyone died, and as a whole David Ayer’s film was a generic mess, regardless of studio interference or not. In comes James Gunn from Marvel, who seems to have cracked the code for how to bring this comic book series to live action in proper gratuitous form, with even the ‘The’ in the title symbolizing that this is the one!

I remember going to see the first Guardians of the Galaxy film at the cinema, and back then I was still only just getting acquainted with watching western media, and that included superhero films. Heck my first ever Marvel movie was Thor: The Dark World! I know, what a banger to start with.......NAAAWT!! Anyway, I went to see Guardians and it was one of the first superhero films I came out of feeling like I truly witnessed something special. It had action, comedy and a good heart to it, and wouldn’t you know, my good old pal James Gunn was behind that flick. I don’t know why I called him my good old pal, I don’t even know the fella. Except in my dreams, but we don’t talk about that. So, flashforward to Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, which I absolutely hated, and for that movie I’m pretty sure Marvel gave Mr Gunn mostly full reigns of creative freedom, as long as he kept it family friendly, and the result was a mess. Hence naturally now I was really sceptical when James Gunn ended up at Warner Bros. following the controversial moment when cancel culture decided to aim it’s slimy fingers at him, as he was given directing and writing duties for this new The Suicide Squad film, and also it was heavily insinuated that Warner Bros. basically told him he could do with the movie whatever the f*** he wanted, excuse my French. And we remember how it panned out last time when James Gunn was given a lot of creative freedom.

Flashforward to present day; here I am wondering and scratching my head thinking what in the heavens has happened, as by golly I am happy to report that The Suicide Squad is a total winner and a blast with a capital B - Blast! Gosh goodness golly goblin, this movie is so much fun from beginning to end. Right from the opening sequence you know that this film isn’t holding back any punches. It’s going at a 447.19 km/h speed of a Koenigsegg Agera RS crashing through any barriers like it’s nothing. Speaking of the opening sequence, it establishes why the movie is called what it’s called from the get-go. You straight away are proven how not a single character is safe, minus the obvious one that we know who it is, as there ain’t no way Warner Bros. would have allowed James Gunn to kill off that one character. But besides that person, everyone else feels like they could die at any given moment. That’s really a big charm of it, as it is frustrating how in many superhero films, let alone any blockbuster action flicks, so many characters always feel so safe and unstoppable, no matter how many times they get shot or how many buildings crash down upon them. And yes, this movie features a certain CGI character that constantly gets that treatment and survives, although it’s very self aware in that regard and is purposefully humoristic. But overall the entire set of characters feel easily disposable, and so so many of them die in such gruesome fashion, so indeed don’t get attached, as they don’t.

Speaking of which, this movie is hardcore gory! You see limbs and intestines flying round left and right, a guy gets ripped in half by a humanoid shark, another’s face gets teared off by a shotgun bullet and so on forth in all kinds of gruesome fashion. Visually this is one for the big screen, as here’s the thing: you’re either a mummy’s boy or you grow some cojones and go see a man’s heart get stabbed with a piece of debris glass in 4K high rate definition! Your choice! Oh, and it’s not just the violence, also the cinematography and the practical set pieces all look incredible. This is easily James Gunn’s best looking movie. The entire think LOOKS incredible!

We also have to talk about the cast, as they are all great! There literally isn’t a single weakling among them. Each one, no matter how big or small their role is, brings something to the table. I can’t talk about all of them, as we’d be here all day, so I’m simply going to mention a few of the stand-outs. Idris Elba comes in to replace Will Smith as a character called Bloodsport, who is in some ways a different character but evidently is a replacement of Smith’s. But that’s no bad thing, as with any ensemble movie you still need a main character to latch onto and have an emotional hook towards, and he is that character. In fact, I’d say he’s arguably better than Will Smith in the last movie, or at least he seems to be having more fun here. He works as a solid leading man, however what works even more is his banterous competitive genital-size-measuring back and forth with John Cena’s Peacemaker, who by the way is awesome as that character. He is not a good character, in fact he is as bad as a bad guy can get, especially cause he’s someone who believes that what he is doing is right, making him much more of a dangerous wild card. This is easily John Cena’s best role, with him adding to the comedy one-liners, but also delivering such an interesting character who I’m looking forward to seeing more of in his standalone spin-off show confirmed for next year. Oh, and he wears a toilet helmet on his head which he defines as “a beacon of freedom” which says it all. We also have returning characters from the last film Joel Kinnaman and Viola Davis as Rick Flag and Amanda Waller respectively, and both are given much more room to stretch their talents and spread their beautiful acting wings like the Hollywood angels that they are. Kinnaman’s Rick Flag is the moral compass of the group, as even though Elba is our main guy, he’s nonetheless a villain still, whilst Flag is a genuinely good guy and what is defined as a true American hero, to which Kinnaman fits the part well. And Viola Davis as Amanda Waller is on an absolutely different level. You can tell she’s an Academy Award winner through and through, as she plays such a serious character in an otherwise goofy movie, and so her presence is felt and it is felt BAD! She’s such a despicable yet intimidating personality and she gravitates all of the screen presence to herself. Margot Robbie returns as Harley Quinn, and she gets even more chance to develop this character that she’s played in multiple DCEU films now, and as per usual the Harley Quinn shtick works well for her, though I do kind of wish she didn’t always get all the attention. Look, I think she’s a fun character and Robbie plays her well, however she’s constantly used to overshadow others in these films which I don’t think is too fair, and its evident as ever in this film too. Anyway, the remainder of the cast including Jay Courtney as Captain Boomerang, David Dastmalchian as Polka-Dot Man, Michael Rooker as Savant, Nathan Fillion as TDK, Daniela Melchior as Ratcatcher 2 (who gave me strong A Plague Tale: Innocence vibes) and many more all play villains, but villains that don’t have particularly great superpowers. This is where the tragedy of Task Force X as a team plays a part, as many of these villains aren’t even good at being villains. They are useless, and the movie is really self aware of this and so treats all characters as they should be. Dare I also not forget to mention the CGI characters in this film, with both Weasel and King Shark being absolute scene stealers!

The Suicide Squad is the type of wham-bam-thank-you-mam batshit crazy entertainment which exists for the pure reasons of fun. It doesn’t set out to be the best superhero film ever, nor does it need to be. It’s an exhilarating, shocking, funny and amusing ride from beginning to end, with the energy never stopping, and is easily the best time I’ve had with a comic-book film in a long while, and I’m even talking about before COVID! Do yourself a favour and watch this one as soon as you can, as I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again - The Suicide Squad is a BLAST!!

Overall score: 9/10

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levbug · 4 years

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FBI OPEN UP, UR UNDER ARREST FOR BEING WONDERFUL AND AMAZING!!💞💞🔫U may not know me and I may not know u, but it's Thursday [Check my pinned post to fully understand🙃😊😔🔫] I'm gonna scare everyone aight– anywaYS, if u r taking request, how about nekoma and shiratorizawa with a foreign manager? If u can do it, have fun writing!!💞💞

hi!! omg thank u for deeming me fit for ur surprise request game!!! im 🥺🥺!! my requests aren’t open but i decided to do this because,,,,im soft for shiratorizawa </3 (i didn’t end up doing nekoma but i hope this is still okay!) thank you for taking the time to request btw!!!

#pairing ー shiratorizawa x gender neutral! reader (platonic)

#warnings ー none uwu

#wc ー 1.1k

▪ oh, you're in for a wild ride with these guys

▪ they will bombard you with questions about your culture and language

▪ and by they, i mostly mean tendou :/

▴ he'd probably just ask you to teach him curse words and stuff tho </3

▴ oh tendou, you silly goose! *80s laugh track intensifies*

▪ it wasn't that the others were disinterested in you, because they totally are! you're their manager and they love you like family! most of them just preferred to question you when you weren't busy :(

▴ of course there are times when their curiosity ends up getting the best of them and they ask you during practice and you answer and oh, look, now they're all sitting cross-legged on the gym floor, eyes gleaming with interest

▴ coach washijo ended up walking in on that and gave you a long, harsh lecture on your duties as a managers as the boys did 40 rounds of their punishment conditioning :((

▪ anyways </3

▪ since you came from a foreign country, your social norms and way of living is (probably) different from that of the boys, in whom none have ever left japan's soil

▴ tbh they were probably confused when they saw you greet someone with like,,,a kiss on the cheek or a good ol' pat on the back despite you not really knowing them.

▴ deadasss goshiki almost combusted when you first greeted him with a hug </3 he was so flustered you swore you had seen blood slowly trickling down his nose :<

▪ as i said earlier, they're all really interested in knowing about your culture! but they're all interested in different areas, i think.

▪ tendou would be interested with pop culture stuff

▴ like all the celebrities (so he can simp for them LMAO) and all the tea ☕ and stuff idk i feel like he's just into the gossip </3 (becos same HAHAH)

▪ shirabu would bug you less, but he'd still love to hear when you'd talk about this one medicine your country had discovered or a medicine that's illegal in japan but available in your country

▴ + shirabu heart points if you bring him some so he can study it and be a big nerd </3

▴ (i don't think it's canon that shirabu likes studying medicines and their compositions and stuff but i like to think he does </3)

▪ i think reon would know the most about you though???

▴ he has no specific area of interest, but he knows the most because of your weekly tea times </3 he's even picked up on a few words in your mother tongue by listening to you speak

▴ also he TOTALLY doesn't find your accent endearing </3 no not reon not ever </3

▴ and he TOTALLY doesn't just *heart squeeze* when you mispronounce something or make a grammar mistake beCAUSE IT'S JUST TOO CUTE OH GOSH HE CAN'T HELP IT YOU MAKE HIM HAVE HAPPY TEARS

▪ anyways :D

▪ semi would be interested in the music (i went for such a basic route wOW)

▴ but fr tho he wants to know more about your countries indigenous people and all the instruments and rituals and just know more about the sound of your country (cos he wants to incorporate it into his own music ☠)

▴ like full-on scribbling notes in his tiny little notepad as he nods along to what you were saying, hanging on to each and every word </3

▴ (did i forget to say i love semi? because i love semi !! semi OWNS me for friques sake pLEASE LET ME MARRY HIM)

▪ our lovely libero, mr. yamagata would probably be interested in the food??

▴ if you bring him one of your countries local foods!!!

▴ even if it's street food he's gonna treat it like it came from like,,,a restaurant as fancy as the one in ratatouille

▴ and if you let him have bites of your lunch? ,,,, you might be unintentionally holding yamagata's heart in your hands </3

▪ NEXT IS KAWANISHI!!!

▴ this is so out of order oh my </3

▪ kawanishi probably wouldn't ask you anything tbh? i feel like he'd listen if you spoke about your home country and what it was like there, but he wouldn't bug you about it.

▴ like yeah he wants to know but he wouldn't pester you??? does that english 😭😭

▴ but sneak a peek out of the corner of your eye and you best bet you can see kawanishi listening just as intently as the others as you told them about this one ethnic celebration you had attended

▪ speaking of kouhais, our sweet baby ace goshiki has yet to take a turn!!

▪ he loves to hear about the rich culture of your country! even if he can't understand some things, he still loves listening to you! the shine in your eyes when you speak about all your friends and shenanigans back home, as well as all the traditions and rituals you had experienced was enough to content goshiki. he loved seeing you happy!

▴ (SIMP!!!!)

▪ finally, our king (and captain), mr. ushiwaka </3

▪ he's kind of like reon in the sense that while he doesn't really ask, he knows the most about you

▴ he would listen more intently than reon imo because mr. waka-kun definitely wants to travel the world someday (and maybe even play professionally for another country!), so he'd love to learn about different cultures <33

▴ watch him even try to learn your mother tongue and actually be kinda good at it </3

▪ OH one thing these guys all share in common tho is being interested in your countries volleyball team during olympics season </3

▴if your home country and japan go against each other,,,,well, let's just say it ends in a lot of bets :)

▪ btw if you ever get homesick, you best bet these boys will go out of their way to find the stuff that reminds you of home (even if it's something super rare </3) and surprise you with it

▴ uhh,,,there's probably some stuff that doesn't even seem like it came from your country (or japan, for that matter) but tendou thought it looked cool so he got it for you ://

▪ it's also pretty fun during everyone's birthdays :))

▴ you cook them some popular dishes that your mother had learned from her mother and wATCH THEM ALL SWOON FOR YOU AND YOUR COOKING!!!!

▪ you own their hearts tbh </3

▪ but that's all good tho :))

▪ cos shiratorizawa's volleyball team owns your heart too :))

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intotherumiverse · 3 years

Text

Chapter 1

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: I’m here again because this project is my child. I’ve added a lot and learned even more and I’m glad y’all are here to watch me develop On to the diggers <3 ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: blood, violence, pov changes ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴᴇᴅ: @katsumiiii and @lilsparkyswife ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1.9k

The day I was first killed was tedious.

When you’re raised in the Summer Court, certain traditions are found there. When you are five you receive your first dagger. I almost hit my lessons teacher in the eye with that little stunt I pulled. When you are 10 they start with basic strength, endurance, and speed training. I beat up Katsuki Bakugou for making fun of me that year. When you’re really curious, they take you up for assassination training. I was a prodigy at it…

I got so good in fact that I climbed the ranks at the young tender age of 18. Summer Court likes tradition, yes, but I was something unprecedented, unorthodox. Something bigger.

Working for the Summer Court had its perks, yes. This was one of them. As I walked among the snakes of the Autumn Court, I felt a curl of unease flow through me. Yvonne, the one who usually handles our information, said that our biggest client’s rival was supposed to be at the ball. As if that makes my life any easier. Everyone wanted someone from the Autumn Court dead. But no one wanted to be seen doing it. Looking at the throng of people, laughing and talking amongst themselves, I smirk slightly.

‘Autumn Court sure has a lot of balls.’ I thought to myself snidely. ‘ I wonder what they could be celebrating this time’ Before I had time to dwell on the thought any longer, the familiar voice of one of my good friends (not to mention on my team) Amira trickles through.

“Why does everyone in this Autumn Court look bummy?” The rude question isn’t uncommon for Amira, though I wish she chose her moments.

“You’re not supposed to say shit like that out loud!”Mina, another teammate (and good friend) jokes.

Stifling up a laugh, and not wanting to attract attention, I whisper back “If both of you don’t shut the fuck up...”

“This is why I don’t work with them” Yvonne sighs into the mic. She was the best informant Summer Court has ever had, and I was always grateful she was on my team. “They never take shit seriously.”

“Neither do you, Von, shut up!”

“Swear to Nyx if y’all don’t shut up, we can leave right now.”

“Fine…” they all chorus in my ear and I hear silence for the first time.

My eyes scan the crowd of people carefully, assessing each one before seeing my target. But before I could move into place, a flash of green appeared at the corner of my eye.

“Oh fuck no…”

I hated many things. The horrid smell of rotting flesh, bugs, failing my parents. But above all else, I hated a specific person. And if he’s here tonight…

Well, it would make my life harder.

Sighing softly, I weave slowly through the crowd, not letting the clammy bodies touch me. Eventually, I make my way down to the main floor. Making sure that my ears were covered, I attempted to get closer to the target, feeling for the poison that was in the many pockets of the dress.

I feel someone touch my shoulder lightly and it takes everything in me to not grab the person’s arm and twist it. Instead, I turn around slowly, facing to meet lavender eyes.

Fuck. Hitoshi Shinsou, Autumn Court’s Master Interrogator. If he was here, then…

“A dance m’lady?” He doesn’t seem to recognize me as he stoops into a low bow, eyes scanning my face

“Oh, he's kinda cute!” Mira whispers into the com.

“I haven’t seen you around before. Are you new?” His voice breaks through the mumble of the communicator.

“Well, I’m certainly not old.” That incites a chuckle from him.

“A lady with secrets, my favorite kind.” I scan the floor seeing the target get farther and farther away. I needed to get out of this situation and out of here.

“The dance?” I quirk my lips up into a smile.

And with that, we dance. He wasn’t a terrible dancer, spinning me ‘round the floor with a grace that only the Upper Ranks could achieve. I let myself get caught up in the dance, losing myself in the flow of the music.

“(Y/n). The mission” Yvonne’s voice echoes in my ear as I’m snapped back to reality. Right, the mission.

I suddenly pretended Shinsou stepped on my foot. Bending over in faux agony and forcing tears to come to my eyes, Shinsou fumbles at my pain. I feel a small pang of guilt, looking at his distressed face.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it.” He leads me over to a small sitting area, not a far distance from my target. Watching Shinsou get lost in the crowd I make my move.

I walked over, inching closer and closer to my target. There was a glass of ale his hand was resting on, delicate fingers winding around the glass. Pulling a small pill from one of the many pockets of my dress, I place it carefully into the glass. Making my way back across the room, I watch as my target drinks the ale ‘till it’s empty to my original position.

‘Spring Court has its uses’, I thought smiling to myself.

“All right, This is an Upper-Rank Investigation!”

Oh, come the fuck on. And right when I was leaving too.

A male voice rings out in the middle of the confused court members. I recognized that voice…

“(Y/n), get out of there!” Mina says into the communicator. “Working on it.” Shit. Why were Upper-Rank boot lickers here? Shit, this was bad, I needed to get out of there.

I back away from the door slowly, trying not to bring attention to myself. A hand came out and gripped the back of my arm.

“Where do you think you’re going, Summer Court scum” the hot and familiar voice of Shinsou rings in my ear. I grit my teeth, fearing to say anything due to their power.

He rips the comm from my ear, and upon hearing the cries from my friends, crushes it

“We have suspicion to believe that a Summer Court Assassin is here. Nobody moves, this will take a couple of minutes.”

And then I see him. The bane of my existence, everything in me sings in disgust and anger, as I try not to lunge at him. Izuku Midoriya. The heir to the Autumn throne. And my worst nightmare.

“No need,” Shinsou calls out, a smirk gracing his features. “I got ‘er right here”

His cold green eyes bore into me as he smiles. “There she is! My favorite assassin (Y/n)! It’s good to see you again honey.” His voice was like syrup, undoubtedly sticky and sweet. The heady sound of hypnosis.

“Seize her guards! We finally got the infamous (Y/n), top assassin of the Summer court.” The guards move hesitantly like they were afraid. I hope so because they should be. Then everything happens all I once. I pull myself out of Shinsou’s grip, running towards the exit, which happens to be, in front of me.

“Lucky me,” I smile unsheathing the concealed daggers slipping them into my hands “Looks like the Prince brought me toys to play with.”

Oh, how I missed fighting. The rush of dodging and weaving never knowing if my next move is going to be my last. The feel of the blades in my hands as I cut down opponents, watching their terrified faces fall to the ground one by one. It fills me with so much strength knowing that I’m so much better than them.

And then my leg got nicked. The sharp sting of pain de-railing my train of thought.

“Fuck,” I yelled out loud as more soldiers descended upon me. They threw my daggers away from me first, restraining my wrists and upper arm for no movements. They forced me to my knees, and I look around at the now-empty ballroom. The heavy smell of iron and salt dancing in the air as the blood of the fallen soldiers surround me. I wasn't squeamish, but I didn't really want to ruin my dress.

Footsteps echo towards me, the clanking of boots reverbing in my head. A gloved hand grips my chin, forcing me to look up. Green eyes bore into mines. “Hi love,” Izuku smiles at my grimace at the nickname. “Quite a mess you’ve made of my soldiers. Now, look at the extra work you’ve given me. They were good people. Honest. And now-”

“None of us are honest,” I spit the words at him “You know that better than me.”

“Maybe I do and maybe I don’t. Now here’s the deal, pet. I will have to take you in now. You have made quite a name for yourself and have to turn you in. Nothing personal”

“With you? Everything’s personal.”

Letting go of my chin, Izuku stands once more.

“You might be right (Y/n). You’ll have a lot of time to reflect in your jail cell. Now sleep.” That was the last thing I heard before my eyes grew heavy and I fell asleep.

Mira’s Pov

I rip the communicator from my ear in anger, slamming the tiny black device onto the table.

“Taking your anger out on our stuff isn’t going to make (Y/n) come back.”

I look over to the blank face of Von, rolling my eyes. (Y/n) got caught and by our intel (and the fact the Hitoshi Shinsou was there) were knew that the Autumn Court had taken her. And now the issue was how we were going to get her back.

“I mean,” Mina’s voice pops up, the small twinge of hope laced throughout her words. “Why can’t we just go in and take her back?”

“Because Summer isn’t really on good terms with Autumn”

“Are we really on good terms with anyone?” Summer Court’s standing had always been rocky with the others. We were always called the lowest, doing everyone’s dirty job, but in fact, we knew more about the other Courts than everyone else. People fear what they don’t understand and hate what they fear.

But these last few years, Autumn’s seemed to have a personal grudge with us. No one knew the exact details but it was something involving (Y/n) and the prince of Autumn.

“They’d kill us on the spot if they knew who we were” Von’s voice cuts in through my thoughts.

“But don’t they realize they kidnapped the princess? This is asking for war!” Mina was right. If (Y/n) got hurt it wouldn’t just be her parents that got mad.

“Who’s going to tell Bakugou?” I ask softly. The van is quiet as we all debated internally.

“Well, I’m not doing it. I actually like living and being here. You can fight it over if you two have a death wish.”

I shake my head at Von, signaling that I won’t do it either. Bakugou’s temper was infamous and when it comes to people he loves, there was no telling what he would do.

“Fuck y’all. Now I have to go deal with the dumbass wrecking ball. If I get hurt, y’all gonna pay Spring Court to heal me.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just make sure you dodge fast enough, or you’ll actually get hurt.” Mina gives me a small smile in sympathy.

Sighing I head to the front of the car. We had to make it back before Autumn found us too. I’d never hear the end of it from the king if we also got caught.

And with that, we drive off, chaos awaiting us in the Summer Court.

onto the next chapter?

Taglist: @xetou @kunikida-kun @asaincy @ryuvanaka @katsumiiii @lilsparkyswife @katsumox @silkylious @inkwicke @myhoodacademia @mypimpademia @readergurl20 @angiebug101 @artof-apollo@namjoonswifeyy @moonlit-xio

Crossed out means I couldn’t tag you ; Send an ask to be added >:D

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16ruedelaverrerie · 4 years

Note

how do you draw Nines?? is it like this? 1. draw soft boi ( Connor) 2. erase those puppy eyes and give him cold dead orbs and eyebrows that could shank someone. am I close???

YOU’RE ABSOLUTELY CORRECT, ANON. That having been said, just to state the obvious, ALL RK900S ARE PRECIOUS AND WORTHY: “Dead-Orbed Eyebrow Shanker” Nines, “Erotic Asphyxiation Guru” Nines, “Emotions Are for Children and Italians” Nines, “Soft and Wet” Nines, “Babey’s First Day at Pre-K” Nines, “Gay and Unhinged About It” Nines, THEY MUST ALL BE CHERISHED

Sometimes I give Connor and Nines different bone structures, or maybe I just think about giving them different bone structures and don’t actually do it??? Do I even know how to bone structure in art? Debatable. This blog is not a place for representational accuracy so a lot goes fast and loose around these parts. It’s all good SO AS LONG AS NINES IS CHERISHED

If it’s the Apollo addressed in that one Cassandra comic, TRULY, WHAT THE FUCK, APOLLO, RIGHT???

It’s nice when that comic makes the rounds without it turning into a reblog fight about how Cassandra ~deserved it for breaking a promise to Apollo~ and how ~the original myth explains why she was in the wrong~. I think I’ve written enough about my opinions on those stances to have purged myself of the need to write any more, but still, very pleasant not to have to think about it!

Oh gosh definitely not a professional in re: art! Not only because I struggle a lot with basics and technique, but I don’t have the work ethic, either! But that’s okay! I have fun here regardless, and I’m very happy to hear that you enjoyed looking through the blog! Thank you thank you v v v

WHAT’S UP KNUCKLEFUCK my god I have not been accused of being Ana Marie Cox in 10+ years, THIS... IS A FLASHBACK EPISODE. Are you Ana Marie Cox?!

RBR was such a meaningful time for me! I suppose my politics have changed since -- or rather, I’ve learned a lot about how my politics were not being served adequately by elected officials -- but what I remember most fondly about RBR is our vernacular, the in-jokes, and the moments when we were the most determined to make RPF resemble real people as little as possible. Our sloe-eyed ex may be in the rearview, but RBR, I think of you all the time.

Aaaaa thank you so much, I’m glad they were a good time! :’) IT APPEARS THAT I’VE PEAKED VERY EARLY, BUT I WILL CONTINUE TO PLAGUE THIS FANDOM UNTIL I AM DRUMMED OUT OF TOWN

YOU SHOULD BE SORRY ABOUT THIS!!! YOU COME INTO MY HOME, DUAL-WIELDING MONSTROUS DISCORD-BASED ALTERNATE UNIVERSES OF BOTTOMLESS HORROR, SMASHING THEM TOGETHER TO FORM ONE GIGANTIC MONSTROUS DISCORD-BASED ALTERNATE UNIVERSE OF BOTTOMLESS HORROR!!!!!! I most definitely did not even consent to Teletubby Vacuum Nines, that is not even a monstrosity that I signed up for

I really wish that there were a better way to share these “you had to be there” trains of thought with people, because I’m sure that literally everyone has accidentally come up with horrible things that make them laugh for years to come, and yet so much of their charm is impossible to capture in subsequent explanations. Like how would you go about explaining JELLO NINES? “Well it’s that jelly is very... versatile... and we talked about Gavin deciding that if he can make anything out of aspic, he can make a boyfriend out of aspic too... and it’s just very funny to think that a Nines made out of jelly, a QUIVERING TRANSLUCENT DUNGEON BOSS, is for some reason MUCH BETTER LOVED BY GAVIN THAN THE ACTUAL NINES”

I cannot draw this, Sun. I cannot draw this because I cannot explain it. I cannot draw it... but I will love it to my dying day

!!! THIS IS AN HONOR thank you very much! I am grateful for this follow, given with absolutely nothing received in return! I suppose I can say for myself that I don’t update frequently enough to clutter up your dash overmuch, which is a small but truthful thing. I also just generally like shooting shit about fandom-at-large and tropes in the abstract, so I know that we have things in common beyond the vagaries of what particular fandoms we are involved with!

I wonder what my Thoughts on Yaoi are at the moment, I should gaze inwardly and poll myself on this very important matter.

#askbox #sketch #detroit become human #rk900 #gavin reed #reed900 #mythology #rahmbamarama #rbr make the veronicas proud

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willowaudreykeyes · 4 years

Text

Logan Being Adorable Crow/Raven/Birb Boi

Basically I’m stuck with this headcanon forever now because I love it too much and I really love crows and ravens and the idea of winged Sides so welcome to my list of what Logan does that’s birb related.

- Logan is the one that reminds the other Sides when Thomas is speaking to someone who has hurt them in the past. He also does this as soon as Thomas sees them, so that the others don’t try to initiate something that would put Virgil and Janus on edge.

- And technically that’d be more for Virgil and/or Janus to do but Logan kind of just did it and they don’t complain. He does it because crows are known for telling others when and what the nearby mean human looks like and helps them avoid them. He didn’t even realise that it was a thing he did for the longest time.

- He also makes sure that the others stay warm; even more so Janus now that the snek actually hangs around them all now. He knows that its a very parental thing to do but when he sees one of the others shiver he wants to just hug them and warm them up; so he puts a blanket on them instead because that’d be weird for Logic to do.

- He really wants to be the hugger, and not the huggee. He wants his wings around the other Side and to keep them safe in the little pocket he makes. But he denies that he ever has these thoughts and does his best to ignore them.

- Remember that he’s also Curiosity and that birbs are very curious little creatures too.

- SPEAKING OF CURIOSITY! Like the twins, Logan also has a small pocket (much smaller then the ‘kingdoms’ that the twins have) that he can manipulate. He’s hidden said space from the twins but he also hasn’t been there in years...

- Before he became so... non-showing of his emotions, he used to fly around his small space and even played ring toss games and other things. He still loves games, of any kind really, but he limits himself to ‘intellectual’ games so that his self-made reputation stays intact.

- I’m bumming myself out here so HE MAKES NESTS! In his bed. And without twigs and sticks and stuff, he’s found that they like to dig into his skin and put holes in his clothes as he sleeps. He uses blankets, pillows, stuffed toys, in as many different shapes and textures as he can because he loves having so many different textured things. He usually makes them on rough days, where he’s too tired to talk himself out of making such a ‘weird’ thing- but they’re usually huge and he falls asleep INSTANTLY in them.

- Roman used to pat his head. Roman no longer pats his head. It feels nice, especially when he did the thing where you have all your finger tips on the scalp and just move them in and out, but Logan always slapped his hand away before he got too relaxed. He knows he makes tiny birb noises when he’s happy and with the Side that he sees as his best friend? He’d be relaxed too easily. And then everything with Roman would be destroyed because he’d instantly find it ‘weird’ and ‘abnormal’.

- No one touch his shinies. He has quietly and sneakily snatched a few of the others things (he made sure that they wouldn’t be missed) and sometimes he pulls them out from the back of his closet just to shine different coloured lights on them at different angles and- Oh look, five hours have passed and all he’s done is look at shiny things. He loves it, but also hates how much time he’s ‘wasted’ when he could be working.

- No one touch his pebbles either. Roman and Remus used to give him pebbles back when they first appeared and he has no idea how they knew that he loves these round rocks that each are formed under a one in a million-billion chance. Even now, he’s seen a few pebbles lying around the Mindscape that he’s picked up and he knows that Remus leaves them around for him specifically. He’s rather glad that Remus hasn’t asked why he likes pebbles so much...

- Speaking of Remus, he once had the thought to eat one of his tentacles (birds eat squids its not TOO weird) and he saw Remus almost snap his neck to look at him after the sudden intrusive thought. Logan doesn’t know why Remus lied and said that he just wanted to try and scare Logan; when he had obviously heard his thought.

- So Logan’s 100% afraid of Remus learning that he is birb and sharing it and its the only thing about Remus that he is scared of. And he hates it because Remus is so much fun to freakin’ talk to!!!!!!!!!!

- Oh and he definitely only falls in love once in his entire life and it’s for the person that he fears will find out his secret. So more repressing his feelings!

- He can’t watch any movies with flying in it. It makes his back ache and his legs jitter because every part of him wants to go do that. Go in the sky and just stretch his wings.

- Oh and he hasn’t let his poor wings out in years. 5 years? 8? He’s lost count. But he has been getting more and more back pains around the others and he knows that its the exact place his wings would attach to his back. He’s thought about locking himself up in his room, never coming out to avoid the increasing back pain, but he knows that it’d drive him crazy to not be around everyone. And to not see Thomas or Remus or Roman or the others again... So he puts up with it.

*hugs Logan* SPREAD YOU’RE WINGS AND FLY LO GOSH I WANT TO SEE MORE CANON-SETTING WINGED LOGAN FICS. Seriously if you know of an existing Logan fic where he’s a birb, please link me. Or if you make one from here PLEASE show me I would be so overwhelmingly astounded to see something made from this (i would prefer a happy ending one but I’d read any tbh)

@ladyedwina @sparrowofsong @5am-the-foxing-hour

#logan sanders #logan angst #logan headcanon #winged logan #bird logan #willowkeyes headcanons #intrulogical #platonic logince #idk what to tag the part where he wanted to eat part of Remus :/#ask to tag #i just really really like Logan as a birb ;-;#tw caps

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anxiousstark · 4 years

Text

S2 02 | Shape Shifted

BIG MASTERLIST | TW REWRITE

Stiles Stilinski x Reader! Half-sibling!Mccall Word count: 2736 Warnings: Mentions of dead bodies, injuries, blood, angst, swearing (always). A/N: I’m not really proud of this chapter. It is fast and not too long. At first, I thought about skipping it, but I totally needed it to be able to introduce Isaac Lahey. Furthermore, the black backpack it’s truly important for Y/N’s past with her mother, and for her relationship with Scott!

↪ PLEASE RESPECT MY WORK. DON’T COPY, TRANSLATE OR CLAIM THEM AS YOURS. NOT ON THIS WEBSITE OR ANOTHER. ALL RIGHTS ARE RESERVED.

"Scott told me you weren't coming today." Allison stared at me, concerned.

"What's the point of staying at home?" I chuckled. I didn't remember anything about last night. I had this uneasy feeling, but I couldn't recall anything. I remembered running after Lydia when she escaped from the hospital's window, and the next thing I was lying down on my bed after being found in the woods. "Melissa will kill me when she finds out I'm not home." I laughed.

"Oh, she will kill you." My half-brother's girlfriend smiled, clutching her books against her chest. "Stiles told me that you guys are better than ever." She blushed, nodding. "I hope you guys stay like that. Scott glares at me less when you guys are together." I smirked. It was true. Scott seemed to be calmer when he was in good terms with Allison.

"I need to go grab some books from my locker." She kissed Lydia's cheek, who had been quiet most of the time. "See you guys later." She side-hugged me.

"They called it a fugue state, which is basically a way of saying ‘We have no idea why you can't remember running through the woods naked," Lydia said while I opened the door for her. "But personally, I don't care. I lost nine pounds." She giggled.

"We were out there for almost an entire day," I answered back. "Isn't it crazy that we don't remember anything that happened during the time we were wandering around?"

"As I said before," She retouched her lipstick. "I lost nine pounds." I saw Jackson a couple of meters away from us, Lydia was walking directly to him. But his eyes were fixed on me while he smirked.

"Do your ears and nose bleed a lot?"

Fuck you, Jackson.

I walked to the bleachers, sitting down behind Scott and Stiles. Again, I was surprised that Scott was a werewolf because he hadn't noticed me as he was too busy talking to his friend. I got closer to them. "Boo." Both boys jumped, terrified. Their screams were so high pitched that half of the lacrosse team were staring at us. They both turned around to look at me. "Oh god, that was so fucking fu-"

Two arms wrapped around me, Stiles. Now, I was almost sitting on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around my waist, his face hiding on my neck. At first, I didn't know how to react, but I ended up wrapping my arms around him too. My right hand rubbed his back while the other rested on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to me, which seemed almost impossible. "I'm sorry." He whispered.

"For what?"

He sighed, his warm breath caressing the side of my neck, making me shiver. "I'm sorry for leaving you at the dance just to go with Lydia." His voice cracked.

"Stiles, we talked about this." I rubbed his back in circles. "It was your opportunity to get close to Lydia." Forming those words made my heart throb, but I continued. "You don't have to apologize for something your heart was telling you to do."

"My heart was confused." He whispered. "And because of that, you got hurt."

"It wasn't your fault." My fingers caressed his buzz-cut hair. "You didn't hit me, Chris Argent did."

"He could have killed you if he wanted. He didn't do it because you are of value. Because you are something that interests him." He clenched his jaw. "He could have killed you if he wanted to." Stiles paused. "And I never thanked you for saving me from Peter Hale back at the hospital."

"Anyone would have done that for you, Stilisnki."

We heard someone cough, and we decided it was time to part ways. Even though I didn't want to. Stupid Scott.

You know when you shower and wear clean clothes. You get inside your bed with fresh sheets. The smell and freshness embrace you, and you feel safe. That's exactly what I felt in Stiles's arms.

"Uhm. So what about the plan?" Stiles stopped looking deeply into my eyes to glance at Scott, who had interrupted us.

"What plan?" I curiously asked, sitting next to Stiles.

"There seems to be another wolf in the lacrosse team." The Hazel-eyed boy explained to me. "I told coach you're switching with Danny for the day."

"But I hate playing goal."

"Remember when I said I had an idea? This is the idea."

"Oh." He didn't understand. "What's the idea?"

"I seriously don't understand how you survive without me sometimes." He shook his head. "McCall's will always need me."

Coach called the entire lacrosse team. Stiles was the first one to go back to the field while Scott stopped to look at me. "Uhm, I hope you feel better."

"Did Melissa tell you to say that?" I jokingly asked.

"Actually, yes." He grinned when he saw how my face went back to a serious one. "I'm kidding. I really hope you feel better."

I nodded, smiling. "Thank you." I looked at him directly on the eyes. "And thank you for finding me."

"It wasn't me." He pointed at Stiles when he saw my confused expression. "It was him." Then he sighed. "And please, I can smell you guys."

"Smell what? I got showered so you can't joke about me smelling or something because I promise you I will kill you."

"No," He chuckled. "I smell Stiles." He paused. "And you, you know."

"No, I don't." He groaned, going back to the field, murmuring something about it 'not being his job'.

It seems like Stiles's plan was for Scott to throw every lacrosse player to the ground, smelling them to make sure that they were not a werewolf.

I was confused when in the distance, I saw Sheriff Stilisnki marching towards the field.

The match had been stopped by the police. "His father's dead. They think he was murdered."

"Are they saying he's a suspect?" Noah Stilisnki softly grasped Isaac's arm, letting him know that he had to go with them to the station. He was a major suspect. "Because they can lock him in a holding cell for 24 hours." Scott was still trying to understand what Stiles was trying to say. "During the full moon."

"How good are these holding cells at holding people?"

"People, good. Werewolves, probably not that good."

Isaac followed the sheriff's orders, but before completely disappearing from our sight, he turned around, looking at the other werewolf boy. "Stiles, remember when I said I don't have the urge to maim and kill?"

Stiles nodded.

"He does." I interrupted Scott. I could also feel it. I could feel the rage. He was going to explode.

After what happened in the field, we had to go to class with Mr. Harris. I didn't fancy that man, he made me feel quite uncomfortable, and his subject was monotonous.

"Why would Derek choose Isaac?" I heard Scott whisper. Both boys were sitting in front of me while I was sitting behind them, in front of Danny boy.

"Peter told me that if the bite doesn't turn you it could kill you. And maybe teenagers have a better chance of surviving."

"Doesn't being a teenager mean your dad can't hold him?"

"Well, not unless they have solid evidence. Or a witness. Wait." Stiles turned around, he offered me a little smile, making my heart beat like crazy. "Danny. Where's Jackson?"

"In the principal's office talking to your dad." My interest peaked when I heard what he had said.

"What? Why?"

"Maybe because he lives across the street from Isaac."

The hazel-eyed boy who only liked to get into trouble glanced at Scott and me. "We gotta get to the principal's office."

"How?"

I saw Stiles ripping a blank page from his notebook, shaping a not-so-round ball with it. "Everyone please turn to page 73." Mr. Harris was writing on the blackboard when the paper ball hit the back of his head. "Who in the hell did that?" Both troublemakers pointed at each other. Oh god.

Gosh, Mr. Stilisnki was right. I would only be into trouble if I went along with Scott and Stiles. But I couldn't let these two fools get themselves killed. I quickly made a paper ball, throwing it at Mr. Harris, hitting him directly on the nose. Classmates started snickering while Scott and Stiles glanced at me perplexed, but with grins on their faces. "Damn guys, I thought you said we were throwing them at the count of three." I winked at them.

However, Mr. Harris didn't seem to find it hilarious as he sent the three of us to detention. We were sitting outside when Stiles's dad came out. He hid his face behind my back, in hopes that his father wouldn't see him. Stiles under pressure was as dumb as Scott in his daily life.

"Scott." Sheriff Stilisnki greeted him. Then, he looked at his son, letting a sigh of defeat leave his mouth. "Y/N," He also greeted me. "How is that wound?"

"What wound?" I smiled, letting him know that I was feeling just fine.

He grinned back. "Good. I'm happy for you." He crossed his arms, telling his coworkers to go ahead. "I suppose you three are here to go into detention." I bit my lower lip while Scott nodded. Stiles still hiding his face behind my back. "Well, Y/N, you aren't going."

I gazed at him, utterly confused.

Stiles finally decided to stop using me as a shield. "Oh, wow-Dad! What a surprise!" Mr. Stilisnki, Scott, and I rolled our eyes. Sometimes, Stiles could be a complete fool. "Why isn't she going?"

I swallowed. I could feel both boys gazing at me.

"It isn't an interrogation, don't worry." Noah intervened. "But we need you to come back to the station. It is quite important, Y/N." I couldn't help but glance at Stiles, my anxiety going up as seconds when by. Why did they need me at the police station?

Stiles smiled at me, but I could see that he was as nervous and bewildered as me. "You are lucky," He punched me lightly on the arm. "You skip this stupid long detention." He moved a strand of hair away from my face. "And you are going to be with the coolest Sheriff of the city." He winked at his dad.

"We will still talk about this at home, Stiles." He smirked. "Come get her at the station when you finish whatever you did."

The hazel-eyed boy pouted, conducting his gaze to me. "Seems like it's going to be a long day for both of us." He muttered.

"Do you want anything to drink or eat?" Noah Stilinski took a seat in front of me. We were separated by a metal table. I shook my head while placing my hands on top of the cold surface. "I know you must be nervous about me taking you here without giving you any hint."

"And I'm in the interrogation room, so I'm even more nervous." I chuckled. "Please, go directly to the reason that made me be here."

"Do you remember Sheriff Posey? Back where you used to live?" He slid a picture of said Sheriff so I could see at him.

I nodded my head. I didn't remember much of him, but he saved my life a couple of times and did his best to snap Alice back to real life. Of course, it didn't work. "He was the one who 'took care' of Ali- my mom's situation."

Noah nodded. "He is gonna retire due to some health inconveniences."

"I hope he is okay," I sincerely expressed my feelings. "But what does that have to do with me?"

Sheriff Stilinski sighed, pulling something that was under the table, letting it fall on top of it. A black backpack. "Do you recognize this bag?" I shook my head. "Sherrif Posey had it for a long time, he wanted to wait until you were older." His eyes searched deep in mines. "This is the bag your mother took to jail. It was given to Sheriff Posey when-"

"When she killed herself." I finished for him. No tears. But my hands were full of sweat.

"Inside the bag, there are items she took to jail, and the ones they let her keep." He sighed. "Of course, those who work in jails must be strict about what inmates can keep. There won't be much, maybe a couple of pictures, something that reminded her of the outside world. Sheriff Posey thought you should be the one deciding what to do with all of this."

He slid the bag towards me. "I don't want it." I was surprised. My voice didn't creak. "You can throw it away."

He sorrowfully smiled. "I had a feeling you would say that." He coughed a little. "I've been following your case since my friend Posey told me about you. I know how much you went through, from an outsider point of view." I nodded, he was the first person who talked to me that way. It was nice, and it made me think of Stiles. "I'm still gonna give you this bag. Do whatever you want with it." I glanced at the bag, nodding. "You can take your time with it. It isn't a decision you must take right away."

My eyes glistened while I peered at him. "They re-opened the case, right?" My voice came out in a whisper. "Her family re-opened the case, right?"

Noah nodded. "It wasn't your fault, okay? They are a heart-broken family. What they went through...nobody should have to experience that. But it wasn't your fault, and the judge gave you the reason." He grabbed my hands, his thumbs caressing the back of my hands. "You have all of us now."

After the conversation with Mr. Stilinski, he made me wait in his office, telling me to feel comfortable while I waited for Stiles to come for me. I was sitting on a couch, my eyes examining the black bag that used to be the most precious thing that my mother ever had. Funny, right?

The door opened, and I was met with Stiles. He smiled when he saw me, and I did the same. "Finally!" I got up from the couch. "I'm so tired. I want to go home."

When I saw his nervous laugh I concluded that we weren't going home yet. "I need to grab the keys of every cell in the station. There's a dude dressed as an officer who wants to kill Lahey. Also, seems like Isaac was being abused by his father, Scott is in his old house, trying to investigate and Derek is flirting with the receptionist. Well, distracting her, you know."

"Okay, so where are the keys?"

Stiles walked to a little grey box that was on the wall, introducing a code. But when it opened, it was empty. "Fuck, someone already got to them." Stiles ran out of the office without waiting for me.

"Yo, wait." I grabbed the backpack, throwing it over my shoulder. When I heard the fire alarm, I started running. "Stiles! Stiles?"

In a couple of seconds, I was able to find him. His back was against the wall while he looked ahead. Isaac Lahey has escaped from his cell, and he was fighting with a man that was dressed as an officer. Isaac grabbed the head of the fraudulent officer, slamming him against the wall. Then, he turned around, looking at Stiles. He moved to get closer to him, stopping when I firmly hissed at him. Nails coming out, ice-blue eyes and scales decorating from my wrist to elbow. He felt threatened but still tried to attack me until Derek appeared.

"How did you do that?"

"I'm the Alpha."

Derek left, taking Isaaw with him before the other officers came to the room due to the alarm. Stiles rushed to me. "Are you okay?" I nodded. "You need to calm down. The scales are still out."

I glanced at my arms. "I don't know how to control it. It just happens." He nodded while talking his plaid off, helping me wear it. We were interrupted by coughs. Uh oh, Sheriff Stilinski and other officers were looking at us.

I peered at Stiles while he looked at the man laying on the floor. "Uh," He pointed to the man. "He did it."

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