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behindyourbarrette · 3 years

Text

night shift

summary: You and Spencer retell your fated meeting; while it's not picture-perfect, it's still yours. Neighbor AU, slight enemies to lovers, mutual pining all that good stuff

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

category: fluff and slight angst?

warnings: descriptions of a cut/injury

a/n: yayyy i literally wrote most of this in a single evening? the idea hit me like a sack of bricks and i just ran with it. @candlesandsoftrain did a great job beta reading—can't emphasize enough how much y'all should hop over to her page and check her out! as always, if you enjoyed reblog and join my taglist! all of the above help me out tremendously and help other people enjoy my fics, too. (sorry if u hate the italicization im new at this lol but enjoy anyways!)

masterlist | taglist link

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It’s a summer night; the air is a little thick and you’re just hopeful enough to wonder if it might rain. Rossi invited the whole team (which is a very large group, these days, considering everyone’s ‘plus 1’ has bloomed into ‘plus a whole family’) over for penne alla vodka, and after a long time spent laughing over tomato-stained plates the kids break off into their own group, chasing each other down the moonlit stretches of grass. JJ’s quick to fall quiet in favor of keeping a careful eye on them, her gaze trailing across each one of them as they knock each other down, but invariably get back up. After a beat, you feel Spencer rise from his seat next to you. He reassures JJ with a look and crosses the backyard in a few long strides; before you get the chance to look back at him he’s seamlessly entered their game, running and inciting gleeful squeals of pleasure from Henry and Michael. You prop your head on your fist as you watch, a small smile playing on your lips as you observe Jack, ever his father’s son, lead a game of tag.

“Cute, aren’t they.”

You shoot JJ a soft smile as she catches your eye, something mischievous playing across her face as she takes a sip of her chardonnay. You shrug, and laugh as you watch Spencer tumble down the yard.

“Yeah. I got floated to OB the other day, and it was seriously tempting.” You scrunch your nose at the memory of tiny feet and hats with bows. JJ nods sagely, and you exhale. “I like holding babies, but it’s nice to hand them back after like, twenty minutes.”

This earns you a laugh from Emily, who agrees with a vehement nod. Your chest warms as the team regards you with a collective chuckle and anecdote about their kids, newborns, baby fever. Your eyes draw back to Spencer, and from his position on the grass he waves you over.

“That’s my cue. Come on over if you like, the grass is cold.” You laugh lightly, and pull yourself up from your chair. Up close, you can tell that Spencer has the kids’ full attention; they’re laid with their heads propped on their hands, eyes looking at him like he has the world in his hands. You sink into the grass, folding your legs to feel the dew and dirt seep into your skin. You feel incredibly old and young all at once; Rossi’s backyard has that effect on you.

Spencer presses a chaste kiss to your cheek in greeting, pulling you a little closer to him, and it’s this that reminds the kids that you’re together. Henry looks delighted to have pieced this together, and poses a question with all of the breath in his lungs. He mispronounces your name a little, but you smile as he continues on.

“How did you meet Uncle Spencer?”

You laugh in disbelief, reaching up to nervously tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Spencer turns a single shade of pink darker than usual, and straightens his collar. Henry, who you’ve always considered wise beyond his years, reads this as discomfort, and jumps to explain himself.

“Well, it’s only because Mommy met Daddy on a case, and I was wondering, and she said that you—“ He points with a very small index finger in your direction, “work at a hospital, so you couldn’t have met him on a case, and I was wondering.” Spencer nods with each sentence fragment, a smile building with each pause. You exchange a dubious look—are you really going to get into this? The moment is interrupted when Derek, who’s holding a very giggly baby Hank—sinks into the grass across from you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard that story.” He says, a sly grin on his face. You pale a little; he’s not wrong, you’ve only ever told people that you and Spencer met because you lived in the same building, and the tale ends there, but Spencer seems elated. His face is a little shrouded in shadow as he leans back, propping himself up on grass-stained hands.

“Do you want to tell them, or should I?”

You shrug, a blush blooming across your cheeks.

“It’s a long story.”

He sees you first in the elevator. It is a Thursday—of course he remembers this—and it’s nearly midnight, but you’re headed to his floor. The elevator smells faintly of gardenias and laundry detergent. You’re balancing the basket on your hip, wearing ratty jeans and oddly, leather clogs.

“I think I knew I loved her then.” Spencer says, eyes alight, and the kids gasp.

“Already?” Jack asks, suspicious. You laugh and shake your head, much to Spencer’s chagrin.

“He’s lying. We’re not there yet.”

He considers the clogs longer than he should. Based on the assortment of clothing in your basket and the band t-shirt you’ve got on, it’s clearly laundry day, and your fashion choices aren’t indicative of much. You have headphones in, and he can hear faint ingredients to something like rock leech into the air as you bob your head to the beat. The elevator dings, and before he can make a move, you step off and disappear into the apartment at the end of the hall, clogs and all. They look a little too big for you, scuffed with wear and tear. He isn’t quick to judge—maybe you’re Dutch. Maybe you just like clogs. It is uniquely fun, to admire someone from afar, to cast them in all the different lights in which you’d still find them hauntingly beautiful. He’s left, dumbstruck with possibility and the idea that maybe, just maybe, things will be different this time.

“I called Penelope first.”

Henry nods at what Spencer says, and looks down through his mop of blonde hair to confirm that yes, Michael should be nodding, too. By now Garcia’s joined Derek and Savannah on the grass, her floral print dress blending perfectly in with the landscape. She nods, smiling with her whole face.

“So Auntie Penelope helped?”

“She did. I was instrumental to the whole thing.” Penelope smirks. She is the only one who knows even part of this story, and seems pleased with this fact. She sticks her tongue out at Michael, who mirrors the gesture. You reach for Spencer’s hand, heart picking up as the story continues.

You’re definitely new to the building. While Spencer isn’t around all the time, he knows the basics, and he’d definitely remember someone like you. Let alone someone like you, just a few doors away. After arguing with Penelope over the best way to introduce himself, he decides that a plate of homemade cookies and a welcome speech are foolproof. The recipe Garcia sends him is easy enough—who doesn’t love chocolate chip?—his rookie mistake of using butter instead of shortening causes the cookies to spread thin, just a little. All things considered, they turn out pretty nicely. He works up the courage on a Wednesday morning, and decides that you’re most likely to be home just before the average American work day starts. The sun is rising a little more pink than usual as he rings your doorbell.

You’re…wearing cupcake pajamas.

He’s stunned by this and about a million other aspects of what he finds when your door swings open. You’re wearing faint purple pajamas with cupcakes on them, a little bleary eyed as you rub at the space between your cheek and your nose. You don’t look happy to see him.

“I need to know where you get your PJ sets, darlin’. They’re adorable.”

“Can I help you?”

Spencer is trying to process a thousand things at once, but the only coherent thought he can form is ‘holy fuck you’re pretty in the mornings’. Your face sours into annoyance as he balks, and after a beat he silently offers you the cookies.

“I’m Spencer. I live down the hall.”

You’re trying to place him; he recognizes the look in your eye as you scan his face. He catches a glimpse of your apartment, through the crack in the doorway, and he finds total darkness. Weird. While he assumed there was no way you’d turn out to be anyone particularly strange, maybe he was wrong. You eye him and the cookies suspiciously, yawning. It’s a work day. How could he possibly have woken you up.

“You’re the guy from the elevator.”

His heart soars, and he is reminded, for the first time, how nice it is to be remembered. You seem perturbed by his excitement, watching as he launches into an explanation.

“Yes! That day—the ground floor—headphones—you were doing laundry, I think.”

You narrow your eyes, and his heart sinks. You mutter something that sounds like ‘creep’ and move to close your door, but he catches it with his free hand.

“Did I wake you?”

You chuckle, rubbing at your eyes. He opts to totally ignore the way the hem of your shirt lifts when you stretch, yawning again. He’s definitely going to catch one of your yawns, soon, and he isn’t sure if he’ll survive the embarrassment of doing so. Penelope’s advice rings in his ears. Ask for her number, give the cookies, rejoice.

“It’s really not hard.” Penelope muses, and Spencer shoots her a glare. Emily laughs loudly from behind her, and Jack shushes her in favor of letting Spencer finish.

“What? She’s right.” Emily whispers, tugging her jacket’s hood over her head.

“Hardly. I was trying to sleep.”

It’s becoming increasingly clear that you’ve put this conversation on a timer. Your grip on the side of your door is tightening, and he’s running out of time. With each passing moment, he considers just asking, but the sight of you is uniquely disarming and renders him tactless. He readjusts his hold on the cookies, saran wrap crinkling, and decides to switch tactics.

“It’s nearly eight in the morning.”

Emily makes a buzzer noise, and you dissolve into laughter. Spencer looks around, clearly jolted out of his retelling, and you rest a comforting hand on his arm.

“That was his first strike. Let the lady sleep.” Derek raises his hands in surrender, shrugging. Hank babbles in his arms, and winds a tiny finger around his father’s thumb. You don’t miss the way Spencer’s eyes follow the motion before he resumes.

You shift your weight, squaring your stance, and he think he might be in for it. He’s right.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to work three in a row? Three night shifts? In the emergency department?” Your voice isn’t laced with any emotion in particular, but your eyes. Your eyes, man. They’re beautiful, but uniquely able to deliver the message that you’re angry.

Spencer balks, and can’t bring himself to shake his head. You press on, the scratchy quality of your voice gone in favor of resolve.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to hold a man’s actual heart in your hand? On a random Tuesday evening? Do you?”

He gets the sense that you are overtired, and clearly overworked, but he cannot decipher why, exactly, he is the person you’ve decided to unleash this vengeance on. His grip on the decorative plate tightens in defense as you glare at him, daring him to respond.

“Kind of. Only in a lab, though.” His voice is small, tinny.

“What are you, a professor?”

“A doctor, actually—“

You laugh, but the sound is humorless.

“Sounds about right. Do you know how many doctors have condescended me in the past 72 hours? More than I can count. Now if you’ll excuse me—“

“Wait! These, uh. They’re.” He clears his throat, cheeks burning. He extends the plate to you one last time, smiling crookedly. Finally, mission accomplished. “They’re for you.”

“Keep the cookies, dude. See you around.”

“That’s cold.”

Derek winces, miming a slap across the face, and your cheeks burn. Spencer shakes his head wistfully, hair falling into his face as he considers it.

“I kind of deserved it.”

Michael twists around from his seat on his mother’s lap. Pretty much the entire dinner party is here, now, listening. You’re looking forward to your turn, but Spencer’s doing a pretty good job of painting the picture in the meantime. Michael raises his hand, like he’s in school, and you call on him with a smile.

“So you didn’t love him when you met him?”

The adults laugh, but you shake your head as affectionately as you can. Exchanging a glance with Spencer, you shrug.

“Not yet.”

“When did you love him?”

Great question, kid. You turn to Jack, and after confirming that it’s your turn to narrate, begin with a flourish.

You regretted it immediately.

Well, almost immediately. After you woke up that afternoon, the events of what you originally deduced to be a very strange dream turned out to be cold hard reality. You mourned the possible friendship carefully, with the help of store-bought chocolate cookies and a few texts to old flames. Nothing you couldn’t fix.

He was the guy from the elevator.

You had been curious about that guy since that evening, laundry day. He had looked at you a little funny, and after you got back to your apartment you realized that your headphones had been blasting. You blushed to nobody and went about your day, but you remembered him. The guy from the elevator, who you’d seen enter the apartment three doors down at crazy times of night, looking exhausted. The guy from the elevator, who was never around. The guy from the elevator, who was easily one of the best looking people you had ever seen. A sharp jaw, high cheekbones. Inquisitive eyes. Slicked back hair, tall.

“So you did love him?”

You think you catch a glimpse of Hotch’s smile, rare as a blue moon, but you can’t be sure. You shake your head at Henry, one hand buried in the grass as you smile.

“Not yet.”

You mourn what could have been. It’s easy to picture Spencer; that’s his name, right? alongside the typical happenings of your life. If you had been less sleep deprived, if he was less aloof, maybe things would have turned out differently. You look for him in the laundromat, the grocery store. Anywhere that you can easily amend your wrongs. He hadn’t just wanted to introduce himself to be polite, right? Was he flirting with you? Or trying to, anyways?

You decide that the best course of action is a total do-over. It can’t be that hard to find him, can it? He lives down the hall. You leave a gift basket at his doorstep, but it remains untouched for nearly a week, and by the time it disappears you’re sure that the expensive brie inside has gone moldy. Does he even still live here? You never see him around—it’s like by telling him that you would, you’ve cursed yourself to never seeing him again. It’s shitty luck, and even shittier to be unable to apologize.

“Language!”

“What, I can’t say shit?”

After a while, though, you see him. You’ve just gone out for a run; you’re sweaty and exhausted and probably not any more capable of kind conversation than the first time, but you enter the lobby and the cool air is at least a little comforting. At least you’re almost home; you hit the button for the elevator and decide to recover while you wait. Hands on your knees, you’re too busy taking deep inhales to realize that he’s in the elevator, and he’s looking at you.

“Wait!”

You’re too slow, though—he hits a button and the doors close, and before you can even react any glimpse of him is gone in favor of your own reflection, mottled and washed out in the door’s metallic sheen. Out of breath, and more than a little defeated, you go back to hoping that the next time you see him, he’ll have a change of heart.

While it’s easy to look for him anywhere, you don’t expect to find him among a list of admitted patients, a few weeks later. It’s a relatively quiet night in the ER (while you don’t dare utter the word) and you’re sure that there are dozens of Spencers residing in Quantico. Statistically, it’s not him.

“It was him, right?”

Jack is the first to draw this conclusion, and Spencer high-fives him triumphantly. The evening breeze cools the lawn off nicely; from the glow of the kitchen, you can tell Rossi’s working on dessert. You clear your throat, and wink exaggeratedly.

You confirm your suspicions by poking your head past the privacy curtain. A total misstep, on your part, but to your simultaneous delight and dismay he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a bandage up to his brow bone.

“It’s you.” He says plainly, no emotion behind it. You clutch the chart in your hands against the front of your scrubs, contemplating how fast you can run away in your Danskos. His eyes drift to your feet and he sighs, defeated.

“I should have known you’re a nurse. The clogs.” He groans, and after his disappointment plays off his face he winces in pain. This plucks at your heartstrings. He’s in pain, and you step forward to peek at the cut on his brow.

“You’re not my patient, but you’re also not a snitch.” You mutter, grimacing at the sight of the wound. It’s pretty substantial; according to the whiteboard on the wall he’ll need stitches. How the hell did he get that? Despite the somewhat disastrous way he entered your life, he doesn’t strike you as the type to start nor end a fight. You pretend not to notice the outdated looking revolver on his hip, hovering over his face as you determine that no, the cut isn’t infected.

“A snitch?” He asks, incredulous. You find it within yourself to laugh, and you press the bandage back onto his skin as gently as you can. He relaxes under your touch, sat cross-legged on the bed, his sweater vest speckled with dots of blood.

“It won’t kill you, but I can tell it hurts.” You say, offering your professional assessment. He shrugs, too smiley, and opens his mouth. You get the feeling that he’s about to tell a joke before he can even start; he looks excited to say it.

“You should see the other guy.”

“He didn’t.” JJ places her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. You nod your head, watching Reid grow redder every second.

“Reid, come on.” Derek shakes his head in disbelief, laughing lightly.

“I couldn’t think of what to say! I was in pain!” He cries, voice going up in pitch like it does when he feels ganged up on, and you smile, at this recognition. He squeezes your hand, taking the joke, and the team looks at you as if to urge you on.

“I’m really sorry, about that day. I was exhausted, and you weren't even that mean I just blew up at you—“

“Don’t apologize. They were just cookies. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He looks terribly sad; to be fair, this hospital is not a fun place to converse. It’s cold, and smells vaguely of disinfectant. You’re entirely sure that you look terrible; you’re on the second of three night shifts, and you didn’t walk in to work expecting to see anyone who cares what your hair looks like. You learn later that Spencer doesn’t care, either. He is simply happy to have you at all.

“It was just a horrible circumstance. I’ve wanted a do-over since.” You clasp your hands together, ignoring the thump of your heart against your ribcage as you continue. He seems to perk up a little, though, shifting his arms as he watches you stammer.

“So, uh. If you ever need help with the stitches,” you make a vague gesture towards your eyebrow, laughing. “You can call me. For a follow up.”

His eyes light up, and it occurs to you that you’d watch them do so a million times over.

“A follow up?”

“I don’t think you’re a medical doctor, so yes. A follow up. To see how you’re feeling.” You shoot him an over the top wink, and before you lose your nerve you take a few steps closer and remove the pen from your pocket. He gives you his hand without question and you scribble your number on his palm, the ink blurring with each line but legible regardless. He twitches a little as you go over the lines, but you manage to get each digit down. With a click of a pen and a hopeful smile, you’re done.

“Okay. And if I feel fine? If I don’t need a follow up?”

“Call me anyways.”

You leave him alone, behind the plastic curtain, because you have lives to save and people who need you. The same can be said for him; he will explain to you, later, how he got the now tiny scar that’s stamped over his eyebrow. It will scare you to no end, but somehow sweeten the fact that he was able to joke with you after, that he comes out of each case able to smile and laugh, at least a little. That he’s happy to stare at his own hand, watching the ink dry and the pain above his eye ebb into nothing.

“So that’s it?” Henry seems dissatisfied, pouting a little. Spencer laughs, shaking his head. While the story is mostly over—a few of the adults have migrated inside, sipping on wine and watching from behind the glass—there’s a few details left to regale.

He turns up at your door a few days later; already you know more about him than before. Namely that he hates texting, but apparently is willing to grin and bear it for the sake of making plans. You invite him in, revealing that your apartment isn’t totally blacked out all the time. On the contrary, it’s bathed in light. He notes that you have much nicer windows than he, your decor eclectic but overall sunny.

“Are you analyzing my stuff?”

You ask, laughing. There’re baking ingredients on the counter—he notes that you left the eggs out to get them to room temperature, meaning you likely know what you’re doing. He turns a delightful shade of pink and shakes his head, though you already know he is.

“Not totally. You have a lot of, uh, pictures.” He scratches behind his ear, and assumes a position at the counter. The deal was that you’d bake cookies together, but to his credit he’s mostly watching you do it. You don’t mind; it’s nice to talk and laugh while worrying about things other than people literally dying.

“I like to remember things.” You say, a little defensive. You keep a Polaroid camera around; it’s nice to take photos and pin them on the walls. Little pieces of moments you’d rather not forget. You look up from the cookie dough to find Spencer smiling wistfully, his grin wonderfully crooked.

“Me too.”

After the cookies are done baking and the apartment smells like vanilla and the rich, caramelized tone of brown butter, you pull out the camera and snap a photo. Spencer looks a little off guard; there’s flour in his hair, and dusted on the front of his sweater, but he’s smiling wide and you’re there, too. The photo emerges from the other end of the camera slowly, a little warm from the printing process, and you hold it up to the light. He seems uniquely happy to look at the photo—before you can talk yourself out of it, you turn your head and kiss him, a little tentatively. Your nerves color the moment in your memory, the thrill of it all. He’s softer than you expect, sweet and warm, and your awareness of the kitchen fades in favor of the feeling of his hands on your waist, yours in his hair.

“Do you still have it?”

You’re quick to shake your head. Between a few moves and the years since that fateful first date, the photo is lost to time. Penelope deflates in disappointment, but you feel Spencer move beside you. The kids watch in awe as he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, and as he extracts the polaroid between a few dollar bills and his driver’s license you feel a sort of wave of emotion rise and fall. You peer at the photo and it’s not quite how you remembered it; you both look so young, joy lighting you up from the inside out. You didn’t even know it, then, that you’d look back at yourself from a grassy backyard, passing the moment in time around for everyone to see, wondering where all the time went. You feel incredibly old and young all at once, but with Spencer’s hand in yours, you think that you’re exactly where you need to be.

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ray-ray-writings · 4 years

Note

UMM THIS

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMe24dvmM/

Im sorry I know you are packed and busy but can I make a request based on that video?? BECAUSE HOT DAM JUST WILBUR ENTERING LIKE

‘WHAT IS THIS I HEARD ABOUT HURTING Y/N AND TOMMY ‘

LOOK AT THAT VIDEO LOOK AT IT AND TELL ME YOU ARENT SIMPING TO THAT MAN

I simply cannot tell you that because it would be untrue because I am SIMPING so hard…. Also this was way longer and had a lot more plot than I originally planned so…. There’s that lol. Hope you enjoy. (P.S. Because it’s so long, this is going to be the only post tonight, my brain is a bit fried rn lol. Have a great night everyone!)

Warnings: Mentions of very quickly losing a lot of weight, it’s brief but it’s there. As well as, manipulation from Dream. At one point the reader is like “wow it’s been three days since you hit me… Thanks Dream!” And a few swear words here and there.

Before Wilbur died, you and Wilbur were married. It absolutely broke your heart to watch the love of your life lose his mind (and then his life) for the nation that you and he created to raise and protect your boys in. But you stood by his side until the very end. You held his hand as he died and clutched his body with Phil once it was over. Ghostbur gave you somewhat of a shock. Because you’re husband was back, and he remembered you. He was the man you had married. The person he was before the presidency, before the war, before L’Manberg… You’re Wilbur was back. But you were still sad. You couldn’t hug him or kiss him like you were able to and although he seemed to be right in front of you, it felt like he couldn’t be farther away. Ghostbur can see this and decides that if he can, he really wants to try to come back to life. He tells his father and older brother about this and so they begin planning and researching. In doing this, they kind of accidentally turn a blind eye to what is happening to you and Tommy.

While those three are figuring out how to bring Wilbur back from the dead, you and Tommy are being harassed by Dream. Something else you lost when you lost Wilbur was protection from Dream. For some reason, Dream was always afraid of Wilbur. Perhaps it was his ability to always stand up for what he wanted and fight for the things he loves… Or perhaps it was because he was Techno’s brother. Doesn’t matter. Point is when you lost Wilbur you lost the protection from Dream. Dream threatens you and Tommy, trying to provoke Tommy and trick him into doing stuff so that Dream could get him in trouble and one day it finally works. Dream tells Tommy where George’s vacation house is because he knows that Tommy cannot resist checking a place out and looking through other people’s stuff. So Tommy drags Ranboo over there and while they’re there they accidentally knock over a lantern and burn some of the house and some of the chests. On the other side of the server, Dream is in your home, poking fun at you for losing your husband and telling you that it was partially your fault and just stuff like that. You didn’t react. You never could when talking to Dream. But his words stung and slashed deep, and he knew it. Finally after a while of this, Tommy comes bursting through your front door, out of breath and seemingly panicked. “What’s the matter?” You ask softly, leaving your kitchen and going to comfort your boy. Tommy is about to spill everything but when he looks up he sees Dream and immediately swallows his words. “We were playing tag… That’s all… Tag” he says. You absolutely do not believe him but you catch his gaze and know that whatever he’s done he cannot say it in front of Dream. So you decide you’ll just have to wait…. You don’t have to wait long.

“You burnt down George’s vacation home?” Dream’s deadly tone sounds from the kitchen. Your eyes widen and scan Tommy’s face and the look that overtakes him, you know it’s true. “I did not burn it down… I knocked over a lantern and a small fire broke out… I tried to repair everything, it’s fine.” Tommy insists. But Dream seems too pissed to listen to reason. “Come with me” he hisses, marching forward and snatching Tommy’s wrist tightly and marching out of the house. A small whimper left Tommy’s lips as he was pulled causing you to fly into a rage. “Let go of him!” you demand, chasing after them. Dream doesn’t listen and so you reach out and shove his shoulder causing him to stumble, let go of Tommy’s wrist and whip around to face you too. A chilling smile rests on his face, “Oh you just messed up big time.” Before you can react, he reaches out, grabs your wrist, grabs Tommy’s again and continues on down the Prime Path. You’d try to fight it but the grip on your wrist was just too strong. Dream pulls you to Tubbo and immediately jumps on the boy. He explains what happened as well as says that you assaulted him and that he wants you two exiled from L’Manberg or there will be hell to pay. Dream tells Tubbo he will start a war and will kill everyone and everything if his orders are not followed. You can tell Tubbo really doesn’t want to, but it’s something he has to do. Tubbo lets out a small sigh and nod, “Okay Dream. You win.” He murmurs, not looking at Tommy’s betrayed face. “Excellent choice, Mr. President,” the man spits out. “Tubbo” Tommy utters broken heartedly, staring at his best friend, silently begging him to say sike… It never comes. “Dream please escort Tommy and Y/N out of my country.” “With pleasure” You wrist is seized again and you’re being dragged away from your home.

After you three get out of the SMP, Dream lets go of your wrists and lets you walk for yourself. You approach Tommy and wrap a comforting arm around him. “It’s going to be okay Tommy. Everything is going to be okay.” You comfort the young boy who sighs and nods, “I just can’t believe that he would throw me under the bus like that,” Tommy murmurs. “I know kiddo. I know.” You follow Dream for a very long time until he is satisfied that you are far enough away from the rest of the SMP. “Okay, we stop here… Put your stuff in this hole,” Dream commands, digging a small hole for the two of you to throw your stuff in. You let out a scoff and roll your eyes, “No way. You’ve already forced us into exile. There’s no way we’re giving you our stuff.” Dream’s face flushed a bright red before he lurched forward and grabbed you. Putting in a headlock to where you’re back was pressed against his chest, his arm around your throat while he has a crossbow to your head. “I’ve had enough of you fucking attitude Y/N. You have no power here. I do. I’m in charge and when I say to do something, you do it. If I ask you to jump, the only thing you may ask after that is “How high?” Do you understand?” You don’t speak, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of obedience. But then the tip of the arrow digs into the side of your head causing you to let out a small pained whimper, “I said, do you understand?” he demands again. “Yes” you finally whimper out. He moves the crossbow away from your skull and lets you go and shoves you forward, stumbling into Tommy who catches you and stabilizes you. “Put your stuff in the hole… Now” he growls, not in the mood for any more ‘games’. You and Tommy share a look and then a sigh and slowly put your things in the hole like he demanded. And you could only watch as he placed TNT above it and blew up everything. All of your items that you had worked hard for… Gone in a moment. Dream leaves with a cackle. You and Tommy are just there. Shocked. Finally, after a few moments, you’re able to shake yourself out of it. “Okay… Let’s get started, there’s no time to waste.” Tommy just looks at you and then he sighs and nods. “Let’s do it then.” The two of you spend the rest of the day gathering materials and building yourself a little shelter. You were all alone… At least you were all alone with your brother.

As we all know, Dream comes back almost every day. He comes back, blows up your stuff and leaves. The first time he came back you tried to stop him… It didn’t go well. “Dream, please he just-“ He cut off your words with a harsh slap across the face. It sends you flying and leaves your head spinning. “Haven’t you learned yet? Stuff. Hole. Now.” And you have no choice but to obey. You watch with a broken heart as Tommy slowly begins to actually trust Dream and believe him when he says that no one misses him. You do your best to be there for him and convince him that it’s not true but as days go by and no one, not even your Ghostbur, you can’t help but slowly believe that they’ve forgotten about you two. As time goes on, it seems that you and Tommy fade. You lose a lot of weight. Your food source is scarce and you have to do a lot of work because you’re restarting every. single. day. You get hurt a lot easier and it takes a lot more time to recover. Every once in a while, Dream will physically hurt you. Whether it a slap or a small sword slash, he does it just to make sure you still remember who’s in charge. You just learn to take it and deal with it. It hurts, but at least it’s you and not Tommy. Ranboo visits you once and is horrified at what he sees. He’s worried about you, but knows he can do basically nothing to help you. He makes a mental note to tell someone about it back in the SMP…. And even though he has memory problems, this is one thing he cannot forget.

On the other side of the SMP, Philza, Techno, and Ghostbur have done it. They’ve cracked it. They have figured out how to bring Ghostbur back to life and to bring back Wilbur. The three make the plan and tell no one, especially not you. (Yeah…. They don’t even realize that you and Tommy aren’t around rn lol) They want to make sure this works before they tell anyone. So they do all the prep and the work and then they perform the ritual. They perform it in a cave somewhere just a little bit away from Techno’s house so that absolutely no one would know where they are or what they were doing. They begin just as nightfalls. Carefully completely each step and making sure they’re doing everything just right, knowing if they fuck up one small thing it’s over and they won’t be able to get Wilbur back. The three complete the final step and wait…. Nothing happens. “Fuck!” Techno curses, his eyes falling to the book, “We did everything right! It should have worked!” “Techno calm down, we’re all upset but at least we-” Philza doesn’t get to finish. All of the sudden a bright light floods the room. The light? It’s coming from Ghostbur. “Uhh guys?” the ghost questions in fear as he is levitated off the ground. Philza and Techno cannot look at him for fear of going blind. Ghostbur is unsure of what is happening but then the shredding pain fills his body. A scream rips from his throat as his whole form begins to physicalize. The skin begins to become real as the bones, blood, organs, and all other internal body parts forms. All memories that Ghostbur had forgotten flood Wilbur’s mind as his whole life flashes before his eyes, reminding him of everything. It only lasts a few moments more before the light fades and Wilbur is dropped from the air. His body hits the ground with an extremely harsh thump. He feels the impact and lets out a groan. His whole body is sore… But he’s there. He’s real and most importantly he’s alive. “Wilbur?” Philza asks hesitantly. Wilbur lets out another groan. The two standing men share a look before rushing to his side. They kneel beside him and gently reach out. Don’t tell anyone but tears threaten to fall from both men’s eyes, Philza and Techno’s, as their hands actually are able to touch Wilbur and they don’t go through him as if he were a ghost. They gently help him from his side to laying on his back. At the movement, Wilbur opens his eyes and is met with the tear laced ones of two of his family members. “Hey guys” he manages to croak out, “how’s it going” “Wilbur” Philza breaks, a tear streaming down his cheek before he lurches forward and wraps the boy into a warm hug. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry” the older man sobs to his son. “Shhhh,” Wilbur calms his father, “It’s okay Dadza. I wanted it. You did what you had to do. It’s okay.” To the two’s surprise’s Techno’s buff arms wrap around the two and join in the hug. “It’s uhhh… it’s good to see you Wilbur” Techno grumbles, not really liking the emotion that had built up in his chest. Wilbur let out a soft laugh, “Good to see you too Tech.”

The sweet moment is broken by someone calling Techno’s name a little ways away from the cave. At first, they elect to ignore it, but then the voice calls again, this time for Philza and they can tell now that whoever it is, is panicking. So the two help Wilbur up and gently help him out of the cave. They look out over the snow and find Ranboo there, standing on Techno’s front porch. “Ranboo!” Techno calls out causing the tall boy to turn around and then run at them. “Techno! Phil!.... Is that Wilbur? Like actual real Wilbur? He’s alive?” Ranboo asks, his tone still slightly panicked. “Yes Ranboo… It’s a long story but to sum it up we managed to bring Wilbur back to life… Now why are you here and why are you panicked.” Ranboo’s eyes shift back to Wilbur and gulps, “I knew you weren’t going to like this… But now you’re really not going to like this… Dream is hurting Y/N and Tommy…” All three, especially Wilbur, snap to attention at that. “What?” Wilbur asks harshly. Ranboo gulps and nods before diving into his story. He tells them about your exile and how Dream has been treating you two, blowing up your stuff and even physically harming Y/N. He tells them that Dream has the two convinced that nobody cares about them anymore. The three go stiff at that. Have they all been so focused they really missed all of this? Well time to go right some wrongs. It is almost as if all ache and tiredness left Wilbur’s body at the thought of his spouse being hurt, especially at the hands of Dream. He straightens up and takes a few steps toward Ranboo, “Take them to us” he speaks, his tone pretty damn dark. Ranboo nods and quickly turns around and leads the three men back to the exile spot.

Back in exile, you and Tommy built a house… Logsted! It wasn’t exactly your taste, but it made Tommy happy so you lived in it together. You had woken up, actually feeling kind of good. The bruises and nicks on your face had slowly begun to heal and Dream hadn’t hit you in the past three days. You had a nice dinner last night, you and Tommy had found some chickens and made a small chicken farm a little ways away from the house so that way Dream couldn’t easily find it, but point is you had chicken for dinner… that’s what I was getting at… I’ll move on. So long story short, you were feeling good. The sun had risen and so Tommy and you were just kind of waiting for Dream to show up so you could get the daily blowing up over with. And like clockwork, he shows up, but for some reason he’s angry. For the past couple days he’d actually be pleasant to be around, greeting you asking you how you’ve been. But today was different. He slammed the door open and begins digging a hole in the middle of Logstedshire… That’s really weird. He was going to blow up the stuff inside the house? No way. But he points to the hole and you know he wants you to dump your items in. You move to the hole but don’t throw your stuff in, “Inside the house? Can we please go outside, I don’t want to ruin our hard work” wrong thing to say. A growl escapes Dream’s lips as he reaches forward and slaps you hard across the face, harder than he’s ever slapped you. It is enough to make you dizzy, but you don’t even have time to recover because his hand is in your hair, yanking it back forcing you to look at him. “You stupid bitch. You would think that after all this time, you would have learned by now… I mean you were doing so so well. But it just seems that you never learn your lesson… Guess I’ll have to teach you yet again.” And he pulls out his sword and points it at your stomach, ready to slice you again. Just as he’s about to harm you, the door swings open again and someone stumbles in. They lean against the doorframe with their hand grabbing the top of the frame. You can hear Tommy let out a gasp and you watch Dream’s eyes widen in fear. “So Dream,” an all too familiar voice calls, “What’s this about hurting Y/N and Tommy now?” And then you’re let go by Dream. You crash to the ground, fall flat on your ass, but you manage to scramble to a stand as you stare at the door frame in complete... Shock? Amazement? Fear? You can’t tell. You’re husband, Wilbur, is standing there in the flesh. Literally in the flesh. He’s alive again and you cannot believe it. “Wilbur” Dream stutters out, “You’re alive? How-” “That doesn’t matter, Dream. What matters is the fact that you’ve been hurting Y/N and Tommy… We can’t have that. So now what is going to happen is I’m going to take my family back to L’Manberg and you are never going to hurt them again,” Wilbur announces, moving ever so slightly further into the room. Seeming to have recovered just a bit from shock, Dream actually retorts, “Or what?”. Two more people enter the house and it causes Dream to blanch even further. “I think you know what… now run along.” Not wanting to risk it, Dream takes off running.

Once you’re sure he’s gone, you allow yourself to speak. “Wilbur?” You whisper out, still not sure if this is real or if you’re dreaming. Wilbur’s attention shifts to you and he completely soften. “Hello,” he greets with a soft smile on his face, taking a few steps toward you, “Have you missed me?” Deciding you don’t care if he’s real or not, you rush forward and throw yourself into his arms. You, like Philza and Techno, almost cry at the feeling of your body’s connecting. He’s here. He’s real. And he’s alive. His arms wrap around you and hold you to him so tightly, you almost can’t breathe. But you don’t care. You’re hugging your husband. You’re actually hugging your husband. “I missed you so much, Wilby. I mean we had Ghostbur but it wasn’t the same. I missed you,” you mumble into his shoulders, the tears slowly falling out of your eyes. His hand comes up and slowly pets your head, in silent comfort and reassurance.

After a few minutes you pull away slightly, “How are you-” You’re cut off by his lips pressing against your and you cannot help but melt. It has been months since his passing and this was just the absolute best feeling in the world. You kiss back with so much passion it makes your head spin, this time in a good way. It’s also probably the only time ever his brother’s didn’t fake vomit at the sight of you kissing. You only pull back to catch a breath, but right as you breathe in, Wilbur’s lips are back on yours. The process repeats a few times, before you manage to breathe out a “Will,” causing him to pull back, but leaving his forehead resting on yours and his lips just hovering above yours. “Yes my love,” he mumbles to you. “Can we go home please” you ask, not wanting to be here at Logstedshire any longer. He gives you a warn grin, leaning the inch forward and kissing you once more before giving his answer. “Of course my love. Let’s get out of here.”

#mcyt #mcyt imagine #mcyt x reader #mcyt drabble #wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot drabble #philza #technoblade #tommyinnit #ranboo #dream #tubbo #ray responds #our beloved alex8o

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myhaikyuuthings · 4 years

Text

Soulmates

where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your body w/ Bokuto, Asahi and Tanaka (note the words have to be spoken directly to you)

Bokuto:

‘Fuck watch out’ your soulmate was either a total dick, or a hero

you weren’t sure which and honestly, that being tattooed on your body forever didn’t make either option okay

it was right above your bathing suit line so you always wore a shirt/one piece at the beach just so you didn’t have to get stares

which isn’t a big deal but you liked bikinis

today your team was going to the annual training camp and for the first time, you got to tag along

being a manager for Nekoma was hectic to put it simply but you loved them and loved being around them

when you all arrived Kuroo said he wanted to show your tattoo to his friend, thinking he’d get a kick out of it

you’d always had trouble saying no to the taller male so you reluctantly agreed

he lead you to one of the gyms and you could tell people were already practicing

you noticed a loud boy with two toned hair, who Kuroo helpfully identified as Bokuto, glancing at you

he messed up his spike

you watched as the ball flew at you, too stunned by the speed to react

“FUCK WATCH OUT” before you could see Who said your words, you caught the ball with your face

you blinked as your vision came back into focus as Kuroo yelled at Bokuto while trying to check on you and Bokuto just sobbed over your body while apologizing

you sat up, doing a quick headcount of how many people were in the gym

“which one of you assholes is my soulmate?” you asked, cradling your nose as it bled

silence

“OH MY GOD I SPIKED A BALL INTO MY SOULMATES FACE IM A HORRIBLE PERSON”

not a dick. but damn if he can’t hit a ball hard

“i’ve had ‘fuck watch out’ on my body my whole life.. and i hated it.. and i just called my soulmate an asshole.. as my first words” you tried to process through the throbbing

Kuroo lost it, laughing his classic hyena laugh, earning a punch to the arm from you

“i deserved it, I am so sorry,” bokuto said through tears, trying to hold them back

you sighed, opening you free arm for a hug but he only looked confused

‘damn i really do have to do it all myself’ you thought, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a one armed hug

“sorry if i get blood on your shirt,” you mumbled, petting his head with your free hand as he laid his head in the crook of your neck

“it’s okay, it’s just a shirt,” he sniffed, “i hope i didn’t break your nose”

you removed your hand, trying to twitch your nose

“it seems to move fine, i think it’s gonna bruise though”

aaaaand theres a new round of tears

by the time you had been checked out and he had calmed down, the two of you sat outside to talk

“Y/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you,”

“Kotaro Bokuto, nice to meet you too, I am really sorry about your face”

“stop apologizing, you were so stunned by my beauty you couldn’t focus on the ball” you teased

“yeah you’re right,” he admitted, causing you to choke on your rice ball

in one day you had met your soulmate, almost broke your nose, and learned your soulmate is indeed a Sweetheart and one of the best in the country (which explains the power behind that hit) now it was just trying to survive the rest of camp

Asahi:

‘i’m not a threat!’

did your soulmate break in?? try to rob you?? what kind of mark is That

your family moved from Tokyo to the Miyagi prefecture during your third year, so now you were spending your last year of highschool surrounded by people you didn’t know

you decided to sit outside for lunch, not wanting to look like the odd one out, plus it is nice outside

before you could even take a bite, you noticed someone looking at you

you turned to fully look at him, your jaw dropping a bit at how tall he was

‘i think that’s the guy someone said was in his 20′s and still a student’

while you were trying to figure out if he was actually 20 or not, you didn’t realize how long you had been staring, or that you had dropped your food

“i’m not a threat!” he tried to assure you, walking closer with his hands up, “everyone’s kind of scared of me because of the rumors but they’re not true”

he was pouting. cute

“yknow, if you weren’t my soulmate i might not believe that”

his jaw dropped, his cheeks a bright pink

his friend with silver hair came walking up

“Hi, you must be Asahi heres soulmate, yknow That’s a rather long sentence to have tattooed on your leg forever” he smiled

this seemed to break Asahi out of his stupour

“No it’s okay! You had to walk around with That on your body, this is fair,” he assured, lifting his pants leg to show your words wrapped like an anklet

you smiled up at him, pulling your uniform collar to the side a bit to show your tattoo under your collar bone

“they picked a bad place for yours, wow im sorry” he apologized, sitting down in the grass with you. “Asahi Azumane, it’s great to finally meet you”

“Y/N Y/L/N, the pleasure’s all mine, call me Y/N.”

you sat talking for the rest of the lunch period, not realizing his friend has disappeared sometime during your conversation

“You should come to volleyball practice, I can introduce you to Kiyoko, I think you two share some classes she can help show you around” he offered

“why can’t you help show me around?” you asked, smiling softly as he blushed again

“ i mean like, i am your soulmate but I get it if I make you uncomfortable or scare you or anything, so I don’t want to just assume-”

“Azumane, it’s okay. you don’t scare nor make me uncomfortable. I’ll come, it’d be great to meet her and your team, but I would really like it if you were the one to show me around”

“yeah okay, I can do that”

it seems your tattoo was right, he’s definitely not a threat

Tanaka: TW SLIGHT HARASSMENT MENTION

“I’ll beat them up”

in one way, the placement was easy to hide (upper inner thigh)

but it was concerning nonetheless

why did your soulmate offer to beat someone up for you? this question had bugged you for years

now you’re in your second year of high school and decided to go to the Miyagi Prefectures volleyball qualifiers

well your friend dragged you along to watch his soulmate play, claiming he’s the best setter in the prefecture and you Have to see him at work

he had left you alone in the hall to go see his soulmate in the locker rooms before the game so you were just standing around minding your own business

you watched the crowd slowly thin out, assuming a game was starting soon

‘nows a good time to get snacks, no line!’ you thought, starting your look for a food stand

you ended up just a little bit lost when two boys approached you

“hi there, what’re you doing out here alone?” one asked, smiling politely at you

“my friend’s soulmate is playing today, he’s just wishing him good luck” you explain, making a move to walk past them

“what’s the rush?” the other asks, placing a hand on the wall beside you effectively blocking your way

you sigh, turning fully to face him

“neither of those phrases is my soulmate mark, and I’m actively staying single until i meet them okay? so can you just let me move?”

they exchanged a look, irritation obvious on their faces

“well show us your mark then, because I don’t believe you”

“idiot, you don’t have to see My mark to know those aren’t Your words” you scoff, trying to walk around them the other way

you end up caged against the wall, putting your fists up ready to defend yourself

“hey, i think they said to leave them alone,” a new guy spoke from somewhere behind them, but you were unable to see him due to the two infront of you

“yeah, what he said” you snap, raising your fists a little higher

when the two turn around to face the new boy, you take that chance to dash out from behind them

you stand beside the new guy, glaring sharply

“didn’t your mother ever teach you what ‘no’ means or did she fail every other human being out there to spare your feelings?” you growl, subconsciously standing behind your saviour

“you’re lucky i don’t beat you up,” the man growls as well before turning to you, “I’ll beat them up.”

“I’ll help,” you snort, cracking your knuckles before realizing the words he said, “I’m sorry did you say ‘I’ll beat them up’”

He smiles broadly at you, holding his hand out, “Ryuunosuke Tanaka, and who might you be dear soulmate?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, thanks for stepping in soulmate,” you grin back

the two men had tried to step away as you and Tanaka made your introductions but Tanaka threw his arm out, catching their sleeves

“No no you’re not getting off that easy, not only were you Harassing a person, you were harassing my soulmate, lets get you to your coach why don’t we.”

“Y/N I’ll find you after my match, make sure to cheer for me! Karasuno!! See you soon” he smiled, dragging the two men behind him

#bokuto x reader #bokuto kotaro #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #tanaka x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu reactions #haikyuu!! reactions #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #tw harassment

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savoies · 4 years

Text

I've got you - Kirby Dach.

summary: comforting kirby after his injury.

word count: 988.

warnings: kind of sad at the begining and one sexual innuendo.

a/n: im very happy how it turned out even though i cried a bit while writing it. i hope you guys like it as much i do. enjoy! shoutout to everyone who read it cause i was scared it wasn't good.

Taglist: @hartsyhart @boesxr @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @kirbysdch @aria253264 @thelionkingpw @damn-dunner-29 @mtkachuk @kaitieskidmore1 @kiedhara @laurenairay @teenagekook @alxvlasic @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby @bigboigritty @puckshitbitch @bowenbyram @mems06 @colecaufields @connormcdavo @maattamatthews @jdrysdales @selenophileangel .

tagging some friends: @kempe @folkloreflyers @bestestbenn @vinceduhn @tkachuk-yeah .

(*credit to the gif owner*)

Kirby paced his hotel room as he waited for what the doctor’s next step was. His thoughts ate him up. He had a feeling in his stomach, a bad feeling, that what the doctors were gonna tell him was not good.

He decided to call you. It was one hour later in Chicago but, knowing you, you had probably been watching the game and realized what happened.

And yes Kirby was right. You sat still looking at your screen, wanting to know what was wrong with your boyfriend as he skated off the ice as his teammates continued to play. Your eyes fixated on the illuminating screen. You snapped out of your trance as you heard your phone ringing. Kirby's contact flashed across the screen and your stomach dropped at the sign of him calling you in the middle of a game.

"Hello?" You spoke up, wanting to know what was going on.

"Hi." Kirby spoke up softly. "I just needed to hear your voice."

"What happened?" You asked.

"Well, they're not sure if I can still play. But honestly, looking at the way it is and feels I don't think playing is an option right now." He said sadly.

"Oh." You said on the other side of the line, not really forming words since you really couldn't say much. This was Kirby's dream. Playing for Team Canada. Being Team Canada's captain and it seemed that, just like that, it was being taken away from him right in front of his eyes.

There was a knock on the door. Probably one of the doctors coming to tell him the news he probably didn't want to hear. "I'll be right back." He spoke into the phone as he put it on the bed and rushed to the door.

Muffled conversation was heard as you waited for Kirby to pick up the phone and tell you what the outcome was. But as he grabbed the phone he didn't need to tell you. The look on his face said it all. His eyes glossy as he tried not to cry.

"I'm going back to Chicago." He forced a small smile.

"Baby." You looked at him. Being twenty six hours away and not being able to wrap your hands around him was the worst. All you wanted to do was comfort him. And all you could really do was give "encouraging" words that everything would be okay, but you had no idea at all what it felt like. Nothing you said would be able to make the things Kirby was feeling go away. But for now, all you could do was offer your presence through the view of a phone screen.

~~~~

Kirby was coming back to Chicago. Not the way he hoped, but at least he wouldn't be alone as he recovered. He was gonna be spending it with Adam.

Adam had gone to pick him up from the airport and now they had spent the whole day playing video games. He texted you every so often. Having withdrawals knowing that now you were only a few minutes away instead of hours. You wanted to see Kirby really badly, but had some work and school to do so you decided to pick him up from Adam's since he was coming over to your house the next day anyways. After talking to Adam, he had promised to keep it a secret that you were coming, of course with the promise of pizza.

So here you stood in front of Adam's door as you knocked three times, waiting to see him.

The door opened and it revealed your boyfriend with disheveled hair and a tired look on his face. "No fucking way." He said as he wrapped his hands around you and buried his head into your neck. "I missed you." He mumbled softly into your neck.

"I missed you too, bub." You said as the hug got even tighter as if one of you would disappear if you let go even a bit.

"I love you so much." He whispered in your ear. He placed a soft kiss on your lips, you kissing back as you missed the warmth of having him so close. "I love you."

~~~

Both of you laid sprawled out in bed, legs and arms tangled together catching up on lost time. Grasping what you had missed the last couple of weeks.

Both laying as close to each other as humanly possible. You ran your hand up and down his chest.

"You know I'm really proud of you right?" You looked up at him.

His eyes filled with doubt. With how he was the captain and he couldn't even carry his team. It seemed as though his team had to carry him instead. It seemed as though his team was out in Edmonton playing as he lay here in Chicago, not doing anything. What a great captain, he thought.

You saw it. The way he questioned himself. His abilities. What he could've done better.

"Tell me what you are thinking, you couldn't have done anything differently Kirbs."

For the next hours, as midnight grew into one am then two, he talked. Talked about how he felt like he failed his team, talked about everything he was feeling, and you listened.

Kirby was dedicated. He wanted the best for this team and even though he wasn't put in Canada he was going to do his best to be supporting them every step of the way.

"You know I love you right." He said as both of you were quite behind on a few hours of sleep.

"I love you too." The next few hours before the sun rose were spent in each other's arms as he talked about the boys and what he liked and what annoyed him about them, what he did during his free time, and lastly just enjoying each other's presence knowing that you'd always have each other.

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misterewrites · 3 years

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Shattered Echoes (Arcane)

Hello everyone! E here with a surprising update! Arcane. Great show, great writing, great characters! just amazing! I love it so much! BUT if this makes you wanna play league of legends....maybe don't it. It's not as bad as it used to be but...yeah....toxicity. If you do wanna play, try wildrift. it's a lighter version of league and not as toxic but still a bit. There’s also legends of runeterra which is a hearthstone styled card game with a single player experience. You can also just play league with bots. Less likely to have assholes chilling out in the lobby. Oh! the ruined king rpg which is a really good rpg especially 30 bucks BUT follows the adventure of some other characters and might be spoilery for future seasons. If you’d like more information about this story, beyond the keep reading sign for spoiler purposes.

So some things I wanna clear up with this: Spoilers for episode 7 of Arcane. That's why I didn't tag them in case. Also possible spoilers for future seasons about a character's abilities cuz this is based on a single line interaction in game along with other factors. Given how well integrated their in game abilities are to the show characters, yeah it's happening (I’m so excited!)

Have a great day! happy holidays, may you be happy, safe and sound. Wash your hands, wear your mask, keep yourself and your loved ones safe, push for global vaccination cuz im getting really fucking tired of this shit. BYEEEEE! Enjoy! share with your friends, comment, reblog and feedback i love it all! and deeply appreciate it.

Here’s the story over on Ao3 *no character tags for now so everyone has enough of a chance to catch up but I will add them later.* https://archiveofourown.org/works/35929279

Here’s the rest of my work over here https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrE42/pseuds/MrE42

And I hope you’re doing great! Bye! to the other side of the fence!

Okay this is your last warning. turn around lest ye be spoiled.

Ekko and Jinx. Honestly their little interactions in the Enemy music video, that one line of dialogue “I used to have a crush on you. Until you started talking to the gun) and honestly the whole idea of them being fierce enemies that used to have crushes on each other. It was too tempting and it was perfect to break ya'll hearts. Also not too intense descriptions of violence but just warning in case.

Also I'm not too caught up on all of League lore and it's not official but Ekko is probably bi given that pulsefire Ekko skin and Pulsefire Ezreal were dating and one of the artists or writers have a link to a little story they had them being flirty exes if that's more your speed. *not official cuz riot are cowards and need to try to hit every demographic they can*

Summary: Remember when we were kids: playing war with toy guns and wooden swords, caught up in glory and revenge without realizing the price?

Remember the childish promise I made you when I went too far and you cried? A home beyond the dirtied streets and polluted air we wallowed in.

Once upon a time I wanted to give you a new life but now you keep trying to take mine.

-----

Life has a twisted sense of humor sometimes. It pushes and pulls people towards their destiny in complex, unforeseen ways. It doesn’t matter how long it takes: A second, a week, a year. Every choice you make leads you to the middle of a messed up punchline.

The uncaring, unrelenting grand clockwork of the universe and it loved punching Ekko in the face.

That’s why he was here on this stupid bridge, surrounded by corpses with the smell of iron and smoke burning his lungs.

The sheriff of Piltover had been in Silco’s pocket which is why the enforcers were putting so much pressure on the Firelights while Silco worked unopposed. It’d been so obvious in hindsight but like they say in the lanes: Hindsight’s a bitch.

Thankfully so was dumb luck. The asshole shot his armor and while Ekko was going to have one hell of a nasty bruise, he’d live.

Which was good because he wasn’t finished yet.

Ekko gripped the bat tightly, his fingers stiff and cold from the night air. His heart raced with only the thundering of blood all he could hear as he took his place between Vi and Her.

Jinx stared his way, her gaze cold and ruthless. Her usual manic demeanor was gone today. Maybe seeing her sister buried her insanity for a moment, maybe she recognized her childhood friend. Either way it didn’t matter. It claw its way out of her sooner or later.

It always did.

-----

Jinx’s heart raged violently in her chest, each beat sending an uncontrollable fury coursing through her body as the world turned dark and static.

Vi. Vi. Vi. Vi.

She left. She left me. SHE LEFT ME! VI!

“Is that Ekko?” Clagger’s voice asked curiously from nowhere “He seriously grew up.”

Ekko. Ekko. Ekko.

Mylo’s voice scoffed in that irritating way only he could manage “Come on. Scrawny Ekko grew into that? Please. What’s he think he is? Some kind of boy savior?”

Hee boy savior. That’s a good one.

“Oh look who it is.” Jinx growled, unable to keep the anger or hurt out of her voice “The boy savior!”

Ekko looked away for a moment, feeling small and foolish. He’d wanted to believe Vi. He wanted to believe that Powder was still inside the monster he had fought tooth and nail for years. He wanted…..hoped that seeing him without his mask or the trappings of her hated enemy would stir something, anything in her.

He used to have a crush on her. Until she started talking to the gun. Oh yeah and helped corrupt Zaun and murdered his people.

He sighed tiredly.

Yep, he could feel the bruise starting to form.

This was all a game to Jinx: Pain, death, even the rage and horror meant nothing more than a sick thrill to Silco’s ward.

‘Fine’ he chuckled to himself, a small grin forming on his lips despite the situation ‘she wants to play? Let’s play.’

He slid the chain of his pocket watch into the palm of his hand and swung the timepiece back and forth, the ticking of the gears beating rhythmically as if keeping tempo to some unheard song.

-----

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Jinx scoffed to herself. He was really going to drag this out huh? Typical Ekko.

“Man, he really loves that watch.” Mylo sneered rudely.

“Well yeah.” Clagger replied gently “He used to carry it all the time.”

Jinx smiled cruelly while she placed a new round into her gun ‘I’ll play. We all know how this ended last time.’

Tick tick tick tick.

“Heh.” Jinx smirked, turning away from him and taking a gunslinger’s pose. A familiar one.

-----

Powder’s laughter filled the air for a moment, an echo from a time long past. He could still see her clearly: The crudely drawn eyeball thing on an old cooking pan she’d use for her helmet. Bright pink war paint on her cheeks, giggling and smiling as she threw up a mocking peace sign.

Ekko still remembered that fight distinctly even now: His reckless charge forward, wooden sword high in hand. The paintball whizzing by his head as he bobbed back and forth between them. Powder’s first shot followed by two more in quick secession. His ill fated jump and the decisive blow, paint splattering across the metal plate he used for armor. The embarrassment he felt as he angrily tossed his pocket watch to the floor and broke it.

Took him a whole month to fix it up. Finding the parts alone had been a massive headache but taught him a valuable lesson about breaking things in the Lanes: Don’t unless you want to spend the next few weeks fixing it.

Well this time it was going to be different because this wasn’t pretend anymore. No second chances or mercy for either this time around.

With one fluid motion, he pulled the watch into his hand. He clicked it, stopping the timer and breaking into a furious sprint.

Jinx drew her pistol with an expert hand. She bit her lip in anticipation as the gun twirled in her grip before she fired the first shot.

Ekko ducked low and pushed forward, the bullet barely missing his head. He rose to his feet, a fierce scowl on his face.

Pew, pew. Jinx let out two more shots out of habit than any conscious choice but Ekko was counting on it: He pivoted his on a foot, bending his body away from his hated foe before launching into a side flip, the projectiles sailed by without a scratch as he contorted his body to avoid the attacks.

He landed gracefully for a moment before launching himself into the air with as much force as he could muster. He rose his bat, gripping it for dear life while he prepared a mighty swing.

-----

Jinx was awestruck by the sight before her: the spotlight flickered on and off yet illuminated her enemy in its harsh light. Terror washed over her as she saw Ekko for as he truly was: not a child clutching onto a piece of wood and playing hero. Nor was he the leader of the Firelights, thorn in her and Silco’s side as they rose to power.

In this moment Ekko was beyond Jinx’s fragmented comprehension: He was an avenging angel, blazing with the fury of the dead and wronged. He descended from on high to deliver judgment onto her personally and would show her no mercy.

Jinx eyes widened in surprise and fear, the weight of her sins crawling down her spine. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. Her finger trembled on the trigger but she couldn’t bring herself to pull it.

“It’s not like that.” Clagger’s voice whispered softly “It’s not your fault.”

Mylo’s laugh echoed harshly through the night air “Of course it’s her fault! Look what’s she done. Bridge full of dead enforcers and Ekko, little baby Ekko about to bash her skull in! How much of a jinx do you need to be piss off Ekko?”

Ekko swung, knocking Jinx down and sending her tumbling to the floor face first. She whirled around and aimed her pistol directly at Ekko’s face. He batted it away and swung again. She reeled backwards and was unprepared for Ekko’s fist to slam into her face.

Jinx’s main advantage was that she was stronger than she looked. She was no Vi but most people assumed she couldn’t be much of a threat without her guns. They, of course, forgot this was the girl who totted a minigun around no problem all the time.

Ekko knew better. Ekko had been fighting Silco and Jinx long enough to know Jinx would knock him off balance and regain control of the fight if her let her.

So he didn’t.

He drove another fist into her cheek then pinned her with his makeshift bat. She thrashed wildly: She pushed back against him, trying to get him off her. She lashed out with her hands and tried to scratch and claw his eyes out but Ekko remained steadfast.

Until.

Ekko pulled his hand back and balled it into a fist.

He paused, breathing heavily as he found himself looking upon not Jinx but Powder. Her eyes were wide with fear, blood dripping down her nose. Scared, unsure Powder.

She really was in there under the layers of sick joy and twisted mania.

Vi was right.

Ekko could feel his heart stop. He could feel pain and regret seep into old wounds he’d thought he healed.

What happened to us? How did we get here? Two enemies fighting to the death on a ill fated momentum to our failures.

She recognized him, confused and lost about what was going on.

Powder.

'I used to have a crush on you.’ Ekko thought to himself.

-----

Powder wasn’t sure how she got here, pinned under her friend and beaten into an inch of her life.

Actually she did know how she ended up in this mess: She remembered being Silco’s attack dog. She remembered the lives she took, the destruction she caused. How she helped her beloved Lanes descend into a cesspool of crime, drugs and corruption.

Vander wanted them to be better, to do better than he did. He wanted his children to live in an age of peace and love, where no one was lesser because Piltover said so.

And she ruined it when she killed him. Killed Mylo and Clagger. Broke Vi.

She really was a jinx, huh?

She was so tired. Her bones ached, her heart felt like it was tearing itself in two. Everything she’s done and for what? She just tried to murder Vi! She just tried to kill Ekko! And all over some random girl Vi was with? Because she couldn’t see how the world was burning and she was the one that lit the match.

God she was pathetic. No wonder she was alone.

No. Not alone. Not really.

Ekko never left her. He stayed with her. True it was thwarting her attempts to take over the undercity but he never stopped. He was always there, ready to stop the next shipment of shimmer or robbing Silco blind.

He grew to be so handsome. She remembered them hanging in the alleyway, dancing and laughing without a care in the world. When they both tried to copy Vi’s form, her strength. The terrible way they both punched.

Ekko never left her.

Maybe he never would.

‘I’m a monster.’ She whispered silently ‘a terrible creature who shouldn’t exist. This needs to stop. I’m sorry Ekko, Vi. I think it’s time Powder fell down a well for good.’

She pulled out one of her chompers from her belt.

She needed to say goodbye to Ekko. To warn him to get far away from her as she finally ended this madness once and for all.

Powder tried to force her broken jaw to speak.

Jinx clamped it shut.

‘NO!” The mania grinned and leered as Powder felt herself slip into the darkness. ‘If we’re going to go I’m taking him with me! After all, we’d never be alone. Not anymore!’

Powder tried to fight back but it was too late, she was too weak to keep going. Jinx had returned. Her hold on their psyche was too strong, too overwhelming to overcome.

Goodbye Ekko. I’m sorry.

-----

Jinx felt nothing as she pulled the pin on the chomper. She just laid there and waited for the explosion to go off. She always wondered how effective her booms were and now she’d get to finally find out.

Ekko stared in confusion at the chomper biting at empty air. Powder was gone and he found himself staring at Jinx again.

Realization hit. He had lost her again and she had returned.

She always did.

He pulled back, loosening his grip on Jinx and trying to find way out.

Boom.

-----

Ekko’s eyes fluttered open. There was a cold sense of dread that washed over him in his sleep but it seemed to be gone now.

That happened on occasion: Little chills or phantom pains he felt out of nowhere. Aches, stiff joints. Once or twice his bones would throb dully like he’d broken them once upon a time. But they always passed a moment later and the doctors said he was perfectly healthy. Not a single thing wrong with him. Well all things considering.

He glanced back to see Powder still sleeping, her arms clutching onto his waist tightly as if she was afraid he’d vanish into thin air.

He looked out the window and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the massive tree still looming over them: a reminder that even here in the dark, dank sewers life thrived.

Him and Powder actually found this place not so long ago when they were exploring. It took forever to convince Vander and more importantly Vi to let them take a few of the younger kids and elderly here so they could be safe while the pair worked to clean up the streets of the undercity.

It wasn’t perfect by all means and lord knows every other week some sort some asshat or the sheriff of Piltover Marcus tried to undermine Vander’s control but luckily he had Vi looking out for him. And she finally learned to stop blocking punches with her face.

Clagger was somewhere around here. He’d come by to run some ideas about a new gauntlets for Powder’s sister. Vander’s old mining gear was classic but just because something worked did not mean it could not be improved.

Benzo had taught him that. He really missed the old man.

Ekko slowly slipped out of Powder’s grip as not to wake her.

Life was good. It was better than he had ever dreamt.

He smiled to himself before noticing one of his unfinished projects haphazardly laying on his drawer.

It was his old pocket watch he used to carry around everywhere, its hands still frozen in place when he chucked it to the ground after losing to Powder for the fifth time in a row.

He’d been meaning to fix the old thing up but between Silco’s attempted coup a few years back, helping Vander keep peace in the Lanes and this new side project among all the other ideas he’s been playing with, he never really had the time anymore.

Boy what he’d do for an extra few seconds in the day.

“Ekko?” Powder’s voice groggily called from bed.

Ekko smiled gently “Here sweetie.”

“Ugh. Don’t call me that.”

“Honey?”

“Stop! It’s too early for this.”

“You love it.”

Powder waved him off tiredly “yeah yeah you dork. Why you up?”

Ekko paused, wondering if he should tell her about why he wasn’t sleeping.

“That thing I told you about” Ekko admitted after a moment “The whole feelings of dread, phantom pains?”

Powder nodded in understanding “You are way too stressed out.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“I’m perfect angel.” Powder stuck out her tongue at at him “Mostly.”

“Mhm. You mean like that time you were gonna chase after your sister to the clearly dangerous warehouse with orbs you barely understood?”

Powder pouted “One time….Hey. Did I ever thank you for staying with me that night?”

“Only every time it comes up.” Ekko chuckled before he waved her away “we were kids. It was a scary time. I don’t blame you. I was going to hide in the shop but….I didn’t want to be alone.”

Powder smiled gratefully “Me either. I was losing my mind when Vi left me. Thank god you showed up when you did. I was ready to throw all those hexstones in my monkey and just throw caution to the wind.”

“You? Cautious?” Ekko raised an eyebrow playfully “Never heard that in the same sentence unless not is in between.”

“Shut up and come to bed. It’s cold and my heater is picking on me.”

“Yes dear.”

“You sound like Vi when she talks to her girlfriend. A piltie of all things.”

Ekko grinned to himself as he made his way back to bed and let his loving girlfriend clamp onto him for dear life.

He really should fix that watch.

Eh, maybe later.

#Arcane #My story

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lucky-draws · 3 years

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hi so i wanted to ask u for art blog recs! specifically metal gear! i've been looking for blogs like yours but none are really very active anymore sadly so if u know any and could direct me to some that would be awesome!

ohh hello!!!! ok, i can list some ppl who i like, some of them are more active than others bc yeah ur right it's hard to find lots of super active metal gear blogs sadly...in my case i just happen to have too much time on my hands right now xD

i guess i won't like. actually tag them bc i don't rly know most of them to talk to jggjjg so i feel shy doing that but I'll just list some urls, some of these will probably be people you've already seen tbh jgjg problems of a smallish fandom

- bigmonsteras is someone whose art i love, they do a lot of peace walker stuff that's rly good! - daydreamycrustacean posts quite a bit of mg stuff and i rly like their art too, they've done some great comics. - 730chocolate has a really unique style, so i like their stuff a lot, altho they're not super active. - pyersiki is also someone i rly like, they draw a lot of kaz content lol which is great. - sgushyonka has some rly good mg stuff, they did some cool pieces as well as funny stuff. - someone who is pretty active is the esteemed ba7land ...they draw a lot of uh. bara stuff like Very Big Tits big boss but i mean good for them. they do a range of stuff actually some cute snake eater content tbh. - pe4cewalker is doing some rly nice art of, uh, surprise surprise, peace walker related stuff, some very good kaz content. - kokirby has a cool style and did some great ocelots although i don't know how active they are metal gear wise. - berserkbrandee seems to be fairly active, they do some cute otasune stuff. - littlenim does some lovely art, cool style and does mgs3/pw as well as otasune era stuff. - jxthics has some great stuff although they're not as active now mg wise i think, but i like them a lot. - crybabimeiri has done some really lovely pieces but not as active mg wise at the moment either. - groznisad has a really fun art style, they posted recently so i hope they're somewhat active. - pejuad has some very cool stuff, i love their solid snake pieces, v interesting style - truthful-tidings used to do mgs stuff, i think not as much now, but their ocs and other stuff looks cool lol - gncbigboss posts mgs art occasionally, they did some cool sniper wolfs i seem to remember - wingedtrumpet is a blog i just noticed the other day, they did a post with some funky looking raidens, so one to watch maybe

i guess also just keep checking the mgs tumblr tag for new posts/new artists cropping up! i know tumblr messed up the search so that if you go to the 'recent' section you get a load of stuff unrelated to mgs, but if you click on the 'tagged' section instead, then you actually will get recent posts that are almost all mgs related. (that's what i’ve found on mobile anyway lol)

im sure there are many good artists i’ve forgotten or not come across, these are the somewhat active/current mgs ones that come to mind though anyway. i’m only on tumblr for fandom stuff, not twitter, so i guess there’s good stuff on there i might be missing. (u won’t catch me posting on the light blue hellsite anytime soon tho LOL)

actually, for art in general, i keep seeing a bunch of disco elysium related fanart on my dash and all of it looks so good...i’ve never played that game or know anything abt it but everyone into that seems to be doing amazing art lmfao ...not relevant in the hunt for mgs blogs but it’s something i was just thinking the other day lol

i hope this was somewhat helpful, or alternatively if u already knew most of these blogs on the list then my apologies jjgjh, anyway thanks for dropping by!

and actually, i guess if anyone else wants to rec any blogs i didn’t mention - or even to plug ur own blog lol, nothing wrong with that - then feel free to drop an ask i guess and i’ll answer that here too!!

(also feel free to take a shot every time i used the words “cool” “stuff” and “lol” in this post jjjhhhghg)

#asks #big boss salute dot gif to mgs artists everywhere #uh ill tag this as #blog recs

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outrebanx · 4 years

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truths

Pope Heyward x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: (requested) reader is John B’s sister and is secretly dating Pope, they’ve managed to keep it hidden until John B starts to suspect something during a game of truth or dare

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: swearing, i think that’s it??, probably some dodgy grammar and tenses

A/N: i always love to write for the loml pope so i was vvvv happy to get this request (sorry it took so long lmao) but anyways i struggled with this for a few days but im okay with how it turned out i think - i hope people enjoy it :)

“Truth or dare?” John B asked Kie, throwing an empty can of beer at her to catch her attention.

“Hmm truth I think.”

“Okay… if the chateau was on fire and you could save all of us but one, who would you leave?” He moved his hand at all of you sitting around the fire.

Nights like these had always been your favourite, sitting with your friends, drinking and talking until everyone got tired or until the sun came up, whichever happened first.

Not all of them were just your friends though, John B was your older brother - only by one year though so it didn’t count in your eyes, but to him he was responsible for you which meant he was ridiculously protective. You could sometimes deal with this, but as soon as it came to boys, if they (or you) had certain intentions he wouldn’t let you anywhere near them which really annoyed you.

This is the main reason why you hadn’t told him about you and Pope dating, he could be happy because he knows Pope but also he doesn’t like to think about you with anyone so you were yet to risk that conversation with him. None of the other pogues knew either - except maybe Kie might have noticed the dynamic change between you and Pope - this meant the two of you were sneaking around, stealing kisses from each other when no one was looking and going on small dates.

You had actually liked Pope for years, but growing up with him meant for a while he didn’t see you as anything other than John B’s little sister, but something had obviously changed in the past few months because he had started acting differently, with more flirty glances and comments being passed between you - leading to you two to start dating.

“Y/N probably because she wouldn’t need me to save her like the rest of you idiots.” Kie smiled at you, making you laugh, especially as the three boys tried to protest that they weren’t damsels who couldn’t save themselves.

JJ interrupted the conversation, “Alright ignoring that Kie thinks all of us but Y/N are useless,” he turned to you, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.” You smile, ready for a challenge.

He rubbed his hands together in anticipation, “Mack the person you think is the hottest in the group.”

John B groaned where he sat, covering his face, not noticing the blush that crept across your cheeks as you glanced at Pope and met his eyes, a small smile playing at his lips.

You heard JJ confidently pucker his lips beside you as you stood up, but walked over to Pope instead, leaning down to meet his face, one hand gently cupping his jaw as you press your lips against his. It takes everything you have not to deepen the kiss, both of you wanting more but being very aware of the whoops from the others and the glare John B is giving the both of you behind your back. So you pull back, his breath fanning over your lips and you wink at him before standing up and hearing back to where you were sitting, unable to control the blush and smile on your face.

Both Kie and JJ made a few comments before getting involved in a dare for JJ to strip off and jump in the marsh, leaving John B to stare at you curiously, almost as if he saw more in that kiss with Pope than just a dare - and you were getting nervous.

Once JJ was back, dripping wet and smiling at his little success you announced that you were going to get some more snacks and drinks, Pope chirping up, “I’ll come and help.”

You walked away from the fire in silence, exchanging glances and smiles, careful not to walk too close as you could feel John B’s following the two of you.

But as soon as you went through the door and into the kitchen the two of you burst into a fit of giggles, Pope wrapped his arms around you, “I think John B might try and murder me in my sleep tonight judging from the look on his face after we kissed.”

You laugh, “Maybe, but at least we have finally kissed in front of him - baby steps.”

Pope moves his hand from your waist and reaches for your face, running his thumb along the corner of your mouth, he says, “Well he’s not here now, so….”

Without hesitating you close the gap between you, your breath quickening as your lips meet his for the second time that evening. His mouth is warm and soft, parting beneath yours, as the kiss becomes more passionate he moves you towards the counter, breaking the kiss for a moment to lift you onto the kitchen side. Once up, you lock your legs around his waist and capture his mouth in another long, lingering kiss, trying to contain the smile that was beginning to show on your face.

“What the fuck?!” John B shouted from behind Pope, the two of you broke away, turning to face your brother who had walked in when the two of you were too involved in the kiss.

“John B listen I-“ You began saying, but was interrupted by Kie and JJ popping their heads round the door, “What’s happened?” Kie asked.

“Those two are macking!” The shock and anger still hadn’t passed off your brother’s face, but both Kie and JJ smiled at the two of you at this revelation.

“Fucking finally, I wondered why you stopped telling me how hot she was bro.” JJ beamed, seemingly proud of his best friend for getting a girl.

“No this isn’t okay!” John B kept moving his head to look at all of you, unsure why he was the only one reacting badly, “She’s my baby sister and he’s one of my best friends!”

“Fuck off JB,” you began speaking, ready to give your brother an earful, “First off I’m not that much younger than you so you can’t act like it’s your job to protect me, especially when I’m the one who seems to keep us afloat.”

His eyes moved to the floor, nodding at what you were saying but obviously guilty about his reaction.

Pope’s arms wrapped around you from behind as you continued speaking, “Listen JB, I love you because you’re my brother, but you don’t have the right to control who I’m with and you should be happy the person I choose to love is Pope, because you know that he is an amazing person inside and out and would never hurt me. Okay?”

He lifts his head to meet your eyes, a small smile playing at his lips, “Yeah okay and I’m sorry for acting like that Y/N,” his eyes glance at Pope, “and you too man, you’re a great catch and I know you’ll treat her right.”

“Alright then, now that that’s all over can we go back to drinking please?” You asked, ready to move back towards the fire.

“In a second.” You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion at your brother as he walked towards you and Pope, smiling when he opened his arms.

Both you and Pope moved towards him, first you encircled your arms around John B’s waist, then Pope followed by wrapping his arms around you both. It didn’t take long for Kiara and JJ to join in on the group hug, everyone laughing as you and your brother were squished and protested for everyone to let you breathe.

After the hug, the whole mood was improved and you all began filing out of the kitchen and towards the fire once again. Except this time you and Pope were holding hands, a weight off both your chests now that everything was out in the open.

JJ jokingly punched Pope’s shoulder, “This opens up so many possibilities for truth or dare now by the way.”

“Oh yeah, I can’t wait to find out what you two lovebirds have done so far.” Kie piped up from where she walked a few steps ahead, smiling as she turned to look at you

John B groaned beside you, “Please no, I’m fine with them being together but I do not want to hear anything about it.”

“We’re definitely gonna have to ask now man and they have to answer - it’s the rule of the game.” JJ laughed.

With that John B chased after JJ, both of them sprinting towards the fire as your brother shouted, “Don’t ask a single fucking thing JJ!”

Both you and Pope chuckled at the scene in front you, then turned to each other to share a quick kiss before joining the others.

Tags: @outerbankslut (ty babes for making me feel better about this the other night)

#pope heyward x reader #pope heyward #pope x reader #pope heyward imagine #outrebanx #outrebanx request #outerbanks #Jonathan Davis #outer banks imagine #obx #obx fic #obx imagine #outer banks fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #john b routledge #kiara carrera

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youvebeenlivingfictional · 4 years

Text

Love Isn’t Always On Time Part Thirty Six

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist Notes: Not Beta-Read. I hope everyone's doing well :) Thanks to everyone that reads/comments/likes/reblogs. Y'all keep me going!

Warnings: None Summary: The service ended and the mourners drifted out after the casket - Sam said something about meeting us back at the hotel, and neither of us answered. I patted his hand when he squeezed my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I felt a little sick.

I had been reflecting on my time with Peggy when Sam reached around Steve and poked my arm. I glanced up at the podium and did a double-take when I saw her - the pretty blonde ‘nurse’ that had lived across from Steve’s old apartment in DC. I shot Steve a look and he gave me a small head shake. Great. Something for us to talk about later. The blonde’s eyes landed on us, and I saw her tense for a moment before she turned her attention to the congregation. “Margaret Carter was known to most as a founder of S.H.I.E.L.D... but I just knew her as Aunt Peggy.” I did my best to tamp my own surprise down, even as I felt Steve take in a sharp breath beside me. I lowered my head, leaning back in the pew and listening to the woman’s eulogy. It was beautiful - captured Peggy to a tee, and reminded me of the moments that I had had with her in a time that shouldn't have been mine - time that could’ve belonged, by all accounts, to her and Steve.

The service ended and the mourners drifted out after the casket - Sam said something about meeting us back at the hotel, and neither of us answered. I patted his hand when he squeezed my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to speak. I felt a little sick.

Steve and I lingered in the church for a while. He got up, unable to sit still, and paced for a while before settling against the pew. I didn’t move, looking down at the program, the date of her death smudged from where my fingers had run over the program so many times. I heard the light thud of heels on carpeting, felt Steve turn, and heard him say, “When I came out of the ice, I thought everyone I had known was gone. Then I found out that she was alive. I was just lucky to have her.” “She had you back, too.” Natasha’s voice was warm, almost soothing in the empty space. I could feel her watching me. “Who else signed?” I asked. I wasn’t sure I could handle any more condolences for the day. “Tony. Rhodey. Vision,” Natasha’s voice conveyed the surprise I felt. “Clint?” Steve asked. Natasha shook her head, “Says he’s retired.” “Wanda?” I asked. “TBD. I'm off to Vienna for the signing of the Accords. There's plenty of room on the jet.” She turned to me, then, “Just because you’re sleeping with him doesn’t mean you have to agree with him all the time.” I cast her a dark look that made her smile widen. “If I was worried a disagreement would ruin our sex life, I would never talk to Steve,” I pointed out, “I have my own reasons for not signing.” “Such as?” “Well, for one, I don’t get into nearly as much of the nitty-gritty as you all do. I have less stake in the game.” “Maybe, but you’re with someone with a massive amount of stake in the game. The Accords could make things safer for him, too. And wasn’t it your tip that sent us into Lagos? If you trace it back, that whole incident could be made your fault. Wanda’s in the public eye, why don’t you take a shot at it for once?” Natasha asked, tipping her head to the side. I felt my jaw clench. “If I was made to answer for sending you all into that situation, I would. My reasoning was sound.” “You had one mission go bad and now you’re afraid of the nitty-gritty. What would Peggy say about that?” She pressed. My hands fisted in the program, Peggy’s face crumpling as I stood, ignoring the head-rush and initial bout of nausea. “If this is your rallying call to get me to your side, it’s not working. You really need to work on your pep talk, Romanoff,” I said icily. I turned, stalking away from the two of them and ignoring the feeling of Steve’s hand trying to catch hold of my wrist.

-- "How are you doing down there?” Steve asked. I felt the bed dip as he pulled the covers back over my head. I grunted in response, face still buried in my pillow. “She didn’t mean to wind you up like that,” He said softly. “She knew what she doing,” I mumbled, tipping my head up to look at Steve. He looked as tired as I felt. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, pushing the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He complied, shrugging it off and tossing it over the back of the arm chair in the corner of our hotel room. He kicked his shoes off before climbing into bed, pressing his face into my neck. “I didn’t know Sharon was S.H.I.E.L.D,” I commented lightly. “...I forgot to mention it.” I could hear a little bashfulness in Steve’s voice, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s alright, you had other things to worry about that weekend. Fury, Bucky, Sam, Nat... The free world... The fact that you almost died... Again...” I dragged out. Steve lifted his head a little to look me in the eyes. “I wasn’t keeping it from you,” he promised. I lifted my hand, stroking over his cheek gently. “I know,” I nodded, “ ‘m not mad, Stevie. I was just surprised, is all.” Steve’s head dropped back onto my shoulder, and he curled closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. I felt myself getting comfortable just as there was a banging at our door. I groaned, kicking my feet a little. “What now,” I whined as Steve pulled away, getting up and peering through the peephole. He opened the door, frowning, and Sam barrelled in a moment later. “Sam?--” I started, but Sam was already turning on the television, and flipping channels to the news. “You have to see this-- shut the door,” He urged Steve. I pushed myself to the edge of the bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes and focusing on the broadcast as Sam turned the volume up: “A bomb hidden in a news van ripped through the UN building in Vienna. More than 70 people have been injured. At least 12 are dead, including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of a suspect who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier, the infamous HYDRA agent, linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations.”

Tag list: @gloryevans @redryderdesigns @winter-scolder @aactuaaltraash @secretagentben @staplerrrr @elliee1497 @adayinmymeadow @allonszassbutt @mannls @witch-of-letters @niallssweetheart22 @uneniffler @rinthehufflepuff @panic-angel3314 @firstangeldragonranch @kaetastic @mcuwillbethedeathofme @skeletoresinthebasement @i-dont-know-what-im-doing-yay @kkaos15 @iamnotoverlyfondofwhatfollows @bassclarinety @tomshelbystits @rvgrsbrns @marvelmenarebeautiful @tenaciousperfectionunknown @intricate-melody @stuffandstuff-stuff @fanfuckingtastic04 @messybunnyartist @anescapefromtheworld @shesa-riott @bihoeofmanyfandoms

#steve x bucky #bucky barnes x steve rogers #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #steve rogers x bucky barnes #Steve Rogers #Bucky Barnes #stucky #stucky x reader #stucky x you #Love Isn't Always on Time #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader x steve rogers

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kyunsies · 4 years

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things i love + appreciate about my closest moots 💖 (obviously no particular order bc you all hold such a special place in my heart)

i was going to wait and post this when i hit 400 followers but that has passed and i wasn't ready in time and i didn’t really know when to post this ;; so i’m just going to do it now to remind everyone that it is truly a blessing to be here in your presence :) i don’t want to get mushy ALREADY sdlkfjsd but pls know you all mean so much to me <33

@theyoungflexer — my person, my rock, chelle you’re super special!! we have such a quirky relationship that somehow works extremely well; idk how but i had this feeling from the moment we spoke with each other i was like “omg this gal is so funky and sweet!!” i was really excited to get to know you, and we’ve talked everyday without FAIL since we became moots :) v grateful for you chelle, you’re my home girl!! (even tho we live across the states hehe) 💘💗 also i just respect you on so many levels like the way you just attend one of the most amazing colleges in the US and is thriving?? not to mention your equally as smart brother also going to an amazing college too???????? speechless. ALSO BIG SHOUT OUT BC you are also the reason for inspiring me to start giffing so,,,,,,literally wouldn’t be here without you GOD chelle i’m so mushy for you :’((((

@softhyungkyun — 1/2 of my mom friends!!! my monmomma, my calming energy in this chaotic world!! victoria, my sweet vic how i love u so!! not to mention the BEST canadabebe around 😘 truly don’t know what i would do without you hun!! do u know how special u are to me?? how much i loved ur lil bunny pics whenever u went on a run; your CONSTANT surveillance of my many typos; and most importantly your scalding of me whenever i show my ~alter ego nasty mädch who is a simp for kyun~ (huh?? who said that, certainly not me!!) i literally look up to you in so many ways, and i’m glad i have someone like you in my life 💗💘💖

@ckyunoirs — you’ve all seen it coming but my actual soulmate!! the best kyun soulmate ever 🥺 i honestly can’t remember how we became moots LOL but i just know i thought you seemed like an absolute sweetheart (which you are) and i was so nervous to talk to you!! i was like “ah omg she has so many anons and everyone associates her w kyun i would like to be at that level” but look at us now!!! we really do share the same (thirsting for kyun always 🤝) braincell and i love that i can tell you what’s on my mind always!! you are such a nurturing soul suni, always stressing how important it is to take care of ourselves 🤧 angel behavior i think!! i don’t even have to elaborate anymore bc i think (i hope) you know truly how much you mean to me suni!!!!! thank you for being such a great friend <33

@memehyungwon — nessa!!! my love whom i get extremely excited about whenever i see your name pop up in my inbox 🥺🥺 get yourself a nessa!!!! so sweet, so supportive, so kind, and just all around LOVELY LOVELY LOVELY!! the cutest, my emotional support bub really 💘💗💖💓💞 so much love for you, plus you’re a multi-talented queen with the moodboards + edits like hello you are LEGENDARY!!! also a multistan extraordinaire, what more could u ask for?? aaaand you call me your “cariño mio” like.......,,shush i’m sobbing just thinking of it 🥺

@pansynight — i think ezra is a fallen angel I SAID IT!!! srsly THE most supportive, trustworthy, and down to earth person in the whole wide world. such a hard worker i mean moodboards, audio edits, writing on the side sometimes, AND gifmaking???????? incredible!!! and is just as a hopeless romantic as i am (cue us crying over how much we love Love together,,,,,i need a moment 😭)!! one friend who i can feel totally comfortable + stripped down with 💙💙 did i already say supportive bc ezra is the Most Supportive Bub if you didn’t already catch that 🥺

@sohcean — bee!!!! a fairly recent moot but one i love very much nonetheless!!!! i looked up to you a lot akdbdjdkjdb like you were one of my “it” monsta x blogs imo hehe but i remember i tagged you in a post where an anon asked me who my fav blogs were and 🥺🥺 you sent me an ask something along the lines of “ty v much i’m glad we’re moots now!!” AND WHEN I TELL YOU!!! i was crying 😭😭😭 anyways, always checks in on me once in a while and you’re always super duper sweet and caring (and thank you for submitting sweet kyun pics occasionally; they are SO desperately needed);; plus you are so extremely eloquent with your writing -- when you post something particularly long i kinda just space out into dreamland bc you just take me to another place with your words omg *chefs kiss* love ya hun!!! 💙💜💙💜💙

@burnitupmp3 — ah ADRY!!! honestly i was really scared to talk to you too for some reason DJFLSDJ but i think that’s bc you’re so extremely hilarious :’) but now that we are certified CLINGMATES 🥺 i literally thank my lucky stars for you everyday :( always and i mean ALWAYS supporting not only me but all of your other moots too ITS SO AMAZING TO SEE!!!!!! never being shy and always starting a conversation with everyone like i’m starting to get the feeling that maybe you DO in fact know every monbebe on this site HEHE but!!!!! grateful for you, if there is one singular constant on tumblr it's you and you're humor, kindness, individuality 💘💗 1/3 of my joobebes, but my ONLY rujoobebe :’) alSO TY FOR FEEDING ME J.SEPH CONTENT <33

@minhyukie — LISTEN if you don’t follow amy you’re missing oUT!!!! but srsly amy i’m going to get really mushy on you jfsdlkfj 🥺🥺 i’ve been following you ever since i made this blog in january (obvi bc u make High Quality content) and i just need to get this off my chest but when u popped in my messages telling me what i was doing wrong in ps about the smart object thing I LITERALLY SCREAMED I JUMPED OUT OF MY SEAT I MESSAGED @theyoungflexer AND WAS LIKE OMG OMG OMG AMY JUST TALKED TO ME!!!!!!!!! jeez like i was so embarrassingly excited :’D !!! man, am i SO happy we are moots <33 the best minbebe around, always providing me with advice and so many resources,,,not to mention we kinda (??) live relatively close-ish to each other so that’s also very cool LOL but srsly!!! amy you are such a backbone for the mbb community here and i look up to you SO much,,,smooches to u 💘💗

@leejooheons — aj!!! 2/3 of my joobebes!!! we are only recently moots but much like amy, i’ve been following you since the beginning of my blog’s existence!! gosh i look up to you in sooooo many ways and again LIKE AMY when i finally found the courage to talk to you i kinda freaked out when you responded LOL !! your gifs are absolutely AMAZING STUNNNG WONDERFUL; you inspire me to really improve my skills, and you always always ALWAYS give me such helpful advice all the time when i don’t even ask for it :( if anything i can't imagine how annoying it is to see me complain about all of my ps troubles but you still take time out of your day to always give me the best tips ever. and for that??? i’m SUPER grateful for all that you do for not only me but for monbebe tumblr too !!! 💘💗

@chaelight — fern!! my other resourceful monbebe moot 🥺 even though we don’t talk all the time, you, like aj, are always providing me with such amazing content advice!!! seriously idk why you all are so incredibly nice to me it’s so touching 😭 and just like bee, you also give me such a calming vibe; you’re just an overall delight to see on my dash because your content is SO well thought out too <33 love you fern!!

@joosgf — lulu!!! 3/3 of my joobebes who also takes the time to tag me in kyun content 🥺 we do not message often but :( omg you’re such a freaking cutie :( i knew i wanted to be your friend when i found your blog bc 1) everyone loves u and 2) you are so incredibly nice <33 i really hope we get to grow closer in the future!! you are so supportive even though we aren't close, and just know that you can always come to me for anything!! also i just love your adoration for our joober it’s SO SWEET, i love to see you geek about him bc it really is the cutest thing <33

@haoranghae — jill!!!!!!! my eastern standard time pal!!!!!!! <33 honestly i think you're the only moot where i DONT have to think about you being asleep while i’m up bc i know we’re on the same time schedule :’) my multifandom buddy who shares my love for victon and honestly a lot of other groups too!! surprisingly we don’t message often but like, i feel like when we DO talk we always pick up where we left off, if that makes sense? i always feel at home talking with you <33 and you’re so freaking SUPPORTIVE always saying nice things and going out of your way once in a while to pop in the inbox!! jill dear you are such a joy, thank you for being you 🥺

@morkyun — carly my sweet angel!!! one of my most precious fellow kyunbebes!!!! idk why you’re so darn SWEET TO ME!! just the sweetest; always asking how i’m doing, always crying over changkyun with me, always participating in ask games sdkjflskdfjslkf how can i ask for anything more than you?? super DUPER grateful to have u in my life, literally such a blessing <33 AND U HAVE ME IN YOUR BIO <33 IM MELTING PLS I FREAKING LOVE U!!!

@hohyuk — everyone LISTEN UP AS A TALK ABOUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!!!!!! my ma, 2/2 of the mom friends!! you aren’t as active as you were when i first started to talk to you (bc u are a wonderful working WOMAN) but gosh, you made such an impact on me ma :( you are such a caring and nurturing person like the only way i can describe you is motherly :( i remember we would always talk about our days + weekends bc we never really messaged a lot HOWEVER we would always touch base at the end of the week and catch up!! although we don’t talk that often anymore, i want you to know that you will always have a special place in my heart for being exceptionally kind to me 💘💗 and for that i am forever thankful for you ma!! love you!!

@kihyunsgf — kass my cutie patootie!!! we have been moots for a long time it feels!! ( i mean long for me since i’ve one been here since january lol) but you are such an amazing monbebe friend!!! we don’t really private message each other but it seems like we always participate in each other’s ask games so it’s always fun to get to know a little bit more about each other every time we ask questions!! you always reblog not only my work, but every other content creator moots’ works too and i just think you are an extremely supportive friend in general <33 thank you for always being so approachable and warm, and i hope we only grow closer as time goes on 💘💗

@kkyuns — okay aminah OMG so,,,,,,,,,idk if you even want me to consider you a moot yet or anything but 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 can i pls be your moot LOL srsly 🥺🥺🥺🥺 and if you don’t feel comfortable that’s okay and u can just consider this an appreciation post dksfjslkdjf but!!!!!! aminah i’ve already told you i’ve sent you so many asks anonymously and i only recently found the courage and come off bc i feel really comfortable whenever i talk to you <33 literally the KINDEST soul in the entire world;; you might not answer asks quickly ALL the time but you always find a way to make time for the people who look up to you and honestly?? that inspires me to be a kinder more gentler person!! my FELLOW NURSING GAL working your lil BOOTY off, a queen really :’) and not to mention one of the most TALENTED mbb gif makers on the entire planet i’m not even stretching that i truly mean it angel <33 thank u for making me (and others ofc) feel incredibly appreciated, and thank you for being a blessing to mbb tumblr :D

@changkynie — sian angel!!!! you have been with me since the beginning of this blog it seems like!!! thank you for always being my secretive cheerleader on my blog, i really adore you for that! you are such a cutie and you ALWAYS make time to send in little messages to both me and our lil family on my blog!! it’s really the sweetest thing; you are truly SUCH blessing and i love waking up/falling asleep to your kind words <33 together forever bub i think <33

@tsunpan (idk which blog you’re comfortable w me tagging so i’ll just do this one dsjfsjdf)—RATCH!!!!!!! i know a lot of ppl on your blog don’t know your name (and oddly enough i’ve never asked either bc i thought u wanted to be secretive LMAO) but then you plugged your twitter @ a while ago and u said it had your name there HEHE SO!!!!!!! i’ll keep it private :) but HOLY CRAP!! my actual first moot on here :( like my FIRST first moot ever :( says i’ve been following you for 8 FREAKING MONTHS!!!!!!!! and wow look how far we’ve come <33 i know i don’t message u as often as a should but just know i cherish this friendship like my life depends on it skdfjlksdjf and thank you for always indulging me with you’re changkyun writings (shout OUT to safekeeping kyun UGH my heart) + also sharing my love for mr. park junhee + ALSO being my astrology guru WOW u really do it all <33 ;; every time i message you i’m always like wow i wish i were as carefree and funny as my gal !! love you to the moon and back dear, thank you for putting up with me 💘💗💖💓💞

@monpabebe —lastly but CERTAINLY not least is my dear RIKA!!!!! again i have this running theme of being scared of the ppl i love LMAO but yes rika i’ve been following you too for a very very long time (i have actually sent u some anonymous stuff too hehe) but i think i fINALLY revealed myself when u mentioned your height!! SHORTBEBES OUT HERE PROTECTING EACH OTHER <33 but on a serious note, you are amazing :( i’m so glad i came out of my shell to finally talk to you; thank you for supporting my work, it means the absolute WORLD to me and thank you for also being a backbone here on monbebe tumblr as well :) i love seeing your interactions with your anons, it always puts a smile on my face 💘💗💖💓💞 whether you're arguing about tomatoes, geeking over shownu, or just giving your opinion on everything monsta x related, i always look up to you 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i know i don’t really talk to you often (bc i’m still a lil intimidated IM SORRY skdfjksd) but i would love for our lil friendship to bloom in the future rika!! :)

#mädch rambles #musHY POST omg but :') i just love u all so much idk #idk if this is weird like im sorry if youre uncomfortable w this sort of thing but idk when i reached 400 it just hit me #like wow ppl appreciate my mediocre content + are growing with me :)#PHEW #my sweet MOOTS <33

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im-fairly-whitty · 5 years

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Title: Forget Me Not by @im-fairly-whitty (Ao3: im_fairly_witty)

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix/Books/Game)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Wordcount: 11731

Summary: You meet up with your soulmate in dreams once or twice every year your whole life, giving you the chance to grow up together and befriend each other no matter where you live. The catch is you only remember what happens in those dreams if you’re currently in one, or if you meet in real life and you BOTH want to be with each other, meaning your waking lives carry on as they would have otherwise with you none the wiser as to whether or not you have a soulmate out there.

This leads to unexpected and wonderful tearful reunions between soulmates discovering each other in waking life, but if your waking selves don’t get along or have emotional constipation (cough, Geralt, cough cough) you and your soulmate can only watch helplessly from your dream meetings as your waking selves make things terrible for both of you without even realizing it.

Additional Tags: Geraskier of course. Instant friendship, but a bit of a slow burn romantically, because Geralt's had five year old Jaskier for fifteen minutes (and if anything happened to him he'd kill everyone in this room and then himself) but romantic feelings don't start until later when they're both adults. Hurt comfort, wump, First Kiss. Happy Ending because RIP season one but I'm different. Also young Jaskier is a national treasure who must be protected at all costs.

For @geraskierweek: prompt 1, Soulmates

Geralt is eighty five years old when he meets his soulmate for the first time in a dream.

He knows it’s a soulmate dream too, he’s never dreamt anything nearly so vivid or calm, only ever having had muddled nightmares if anything at all. But now he finds himself standing in a field of wildflowers, a slight breeze brushing over the loose black shirt he’s wearing. An unseen sun warms his skin in the perfect pleasantness of a calm summer’s day.

And Geralt feels sick to his stomach. Because he does not want a soulmate, had been convinced that he didn’t have one after decades of nothing.

But as he walks across the field he hears the soft gurgling of a brook and sees exactly why it’s taken so long for his first dream to come. Sitting on the bank of the stream, shoes and socks stripped off with his feet splashing in the water, is a five year old boy.

Geralt’s sick feeling doubles as he silently watches the boy from afar, suddenly far more furious at destiny for what it’s just done to this poor child. Matching him up with a monster. The boy should be meeting someone his own age right now, a childhood friend seen fleetingly in dreams once or perhaps twice a year as they aged together. Not a witcher.

Geralt jumps as the little boy looked over his shoulder, spotting him. For a moment Geralt considers just turning and leaving, just walking away and out of this poor child’s dreams for good.

But then the boy’s eyes light up in a look of eager happiness and he waves excitedly, jumping up and running over to him before he can get away.

“Hi! My name’s Julian! What’s your name? Do you know what this place is?” The little boy asks excitedly, jumping up and down with seemingly boundless energy. “There’s so many flowers, I love them!”

“I’m Geralt.” Geralt says a little stiffy, mind reeling a bit. Because he can’t remember a single time in his life that a child has greeted him with anything other than fear, and it’s stunned him as easily as Axii.

“Hi Geralt! I’m Julian!” says Julian brightly, having apparently already forgotten his previous introduction in his excitement. He grabs Geralt’s hand before he can react and pulls him along. “Come see the stream I found!”

Geralt swallows as he lets himself be tugged along, at a loss for words or thought. Instead he finds himself listening attentively as Julian drags him to stand in the shallow water, proudly showing him wet rocks and pebbles of slightly different colors.

It’s only been a few minutes when Geralt feels the dream already starting to fade, they never last long for the first few years he’s heard. But by the time Julian disappears from sight Geralt is absolutely heartbroken for the child, having already come to love him in the kind of way that would have him burning a village should he come to harm.

And Geralt is absolutely furious to know that he will have no memory of the dream once he wakes up. That neither of them will remember their encounter until the next time they meet.

***

Julian is eleven when he finally realizes why he can never remember Geralt when he wakes up.

“You’re my soulmate aren’t you.” Julian not so much asks as simply states, looking up at Geralt.

The two of them are sitting cross legged in the wildflower field they always meet in, braiding long strands of grass to see who can make the longest one. Sometimes they explore together, sometimes they sit on the bank of the stream to splash around, sometimes Julian manages to get Geralt to tell him a story. They’re always very exciting stories.

“Hmmm.” Geralt grunts, not looking up from his grass braiding.

“My mum says if you meet your soulmate in your dreams not to bother telling them your name, because neither of you will remember when you’re awake.” Julian says, reaching over to pick a flower to weave into his grass braid. “That’s why I only remember you when we’re here, isn’t it?”

“Hmmm.” Geralt says again. But Julian knows it’s the “yes” kind of hmmm. They’ve met enough times over the years that Julian knows what all the hmmm��s mean now.

They continue to braid for a few quiet minutes, the soft breeze rustling through the wildflowers.

“How come you’re so old?” Julian asks, looking up at Geralt. “Aren’t soulmates supposed to be the same age?”

There’s a kind of almost smile on Geralt’s face which means he’s supposed to be chuckling, but then a little bit of a sad look too.

“It’s because I’m a witcher.” Geralt says, not looking at Julian as he plucks another long blade of grass. “It means I’ll live for hundreds of years and still look about this age.”

“Oh, like elves.” Julian asks, nodding sagely.

“Yeah, a little bit like elves.” Geralt says with a shrug, but now his little smile stays.

Julian’s nose wrinkles, “Does that mean it’s not going to be until I’m like fifty that we meet in real life? So I look as old as you do?”

Geralt actually laughs at that, reaching over to ruffle Julian’s hair. “I do not look fifty. Thirty at most.”

“But you’ve got white hair!” Julian says defensively, warming to his argument. “Only really old people have white hair, everybody knows that Geralt.”

“A fair point, little lark.” Geralt says. His smile dims a little. “And I don’t know when we’ll meet in real life. I hope we don’t.”

“What?” Julian cries, jumping to his feet, throwing his grass braid into the air for emphasis. “But we’re soulmates! We gotta meet in real life too so we can be real life friends! How else are we gonna remember each other when we’re awake?”

“My life isn’t one that you want to be in.” Geralt says gently. “I’m always in danger, I’m always having to fight monsters and travel hard. You wouldn’t be able to come with me, it would be too dangerous and I would be too unkind.”

“But you’re always nice. You’re my best friend!” Julian insists, crossing his arms.

“It’s easier here.” Geralt says simply, going back to his braid. “I don’t have to worry when I’m here. But if we meet in real life you’ll be frightened of me, I’ll have two great swords on my back and be in dirty armor and look angry all the time to scare off people who want to hurt me.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Julian says seriously. “I’ll make them be nice to you, I’ll tell them how great and kind you are and then you won’t have to worry.”

“I’m sure you would.” Geralt says with a sad smile, holding up his finished grass braid to Julian as they feel the dream start to fade.

***

Geralt is ninety five the year that Julian’s mother dies. He holds the fifteen year old on his arms as the boy cries bitterly into his shoulder the entire dream they’re together, having had no other shoulders to cry on when he was awake.

***

“I ran away from home last month.” Seventeen year old Julian says.

Geralt looks over at him where they’re both lying in the grass, hands behind their heads as they stare at the blue nothing sky.

“Did your father finally throw you out?” Geralt askes. “Or did you finally hide enough money for Oxenfurt?”

“A little of both.” Julian says, voice deceptively easy. “Got caught sleeping with a maid and figured it was time to get out while I still could. I didn’t fancy being beaten within an inch of my life like Mother.”

A long moment of quiet passes between them.

“Are you safe? Where you are?” Geralt asks, looking over.

“Not really.” Julian says quietly, reaching down to pluck a blade of grass and starting to slowly break it apart in his fingers. “I’m pretending to myself that I am, but I know I’m going to get stabbed if I hang around much longer. I’ll probably wise up in a day or two, once I get over my pride.”

“Did you buy a knife like I told you to?” Geralt askes, knowing perfectly well how futile giving advice of any kind is, but having to try anyway.

“I didn’t.” Julian says, rubbing his eyes tiredly. “I was even looking at one in the marketplace, thinking how much I wished I knew how to use one properly.” he looked over at Geralt, sharing the moment of sad irony with him. “It’s utter rubbish, this not being able to remember business. At least when we meet I’ll suddenly have the knife wielding skills of a bandit from what you’ve taught me.”

Geralt chuckles a sad kind of chuckle that ends in a sigh.

Another minute of silence.

“And don’t say we’re not going to meet, because I can feel you thinking it and we are.” Julian says, raising up on one elbow to glare at him more easily.

“We aren’t going to meet.” Geralt said, shaking his head tiredly. “You’ll see me coming a mile away and be too terrified to even get a look at my face. As you should be.”

“I won’t!” Julian insists. “We’ll end up in the same seedy tavern someday, soon too now that I’m traveling, and we’ll see each other across the crowd as I’m playing my lute and suddenly I’ll remember how to wield a knife and you are going to remember you owe me a drink.”

Geralt only keeps shaking his head. “You only get your dream memories back if you both want to be together Julian. You know I don’t want a soulmate. My life isn’t the kind that’s supposed to be shared, there’s not a chance that I’m going to see you in real life and want you around me. Neither of us will remember.”

“You can’t convince me I’m unattractive Geralt, I have an extremely healthy self image.” Julian says, stretching in a comical attempt at a sexy pose.

“You’re a child.” Geralt scoffs.

“Not for long.” Jaskier says, raising an eyebrow. “Give me a few years and I’ll look as old as you, and then when I find you I’ll keep badgering you until you let me stay, and then boom. Soulmate memories.”

Geralt snorts. “If I had an entire week I could not explain to you all the ways in which that is extremely unlikely.”

Geralt closes his eyes, but he can feel Julian watching him from across the grass.

“If we already remembered each other, would you come get me?” Julian asks quietly, the barest hint of a shake hidden in his voice.

Geralt opens his eyes, looking at him steadily. “If we already remembered each other I would have come to get you the day your mother died, and then killed your father for good measure.”

“Okay.” Julian says, voice still quiet as he curls up a little in the grass, still laying on his side.

Geralt can smell the fear starting to seep off the boy as he feels the dream start to fade around them, pulling them back to real life.

“You’ll be alright.” Geralt says, reaching over to grip the boy’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’re stubborn and you’re quick on your feet if nothing else, you’ll survive.”

“Geralt, I-” Julian’s hand grips his.

And then the dream fades.

***

Geralt is ninety nine the first time he finds himself in a soulmate dream where he finds that he’s even more upset than the very first time he found himself in the wildflower field.

“Geralt!”

He looks over and see Julian...no, Jaskier, sprinting toward him. The young man slams into him at top speed, grabbing him in a hug that is buzzing with energy and excitement.

“We met!” Jaskier cries, his eyes actually filling with excited tears. “We met! We met! I can’t believe we finally met, and Gods Geralt you never once mentioned how lethally attractive you are in real life! I thought I was going to die when I saw you! And-”

There are too many things in Geralt’s head that need to be said, too many competing emotions warring to get out first.

But Geralt does the most important thing first and wraps Jaskier into a protective bear hug, holding him close. Jaskier returns the hug eagerly, quieting for just a moment despite practically humming in excitement.

“We didn’t remember.” Geralt says quietly, pulling out of the hug enough to look Jaskier in the eyes, then anger surfaces for its turn out in the open. “And what are you doing Jaskier? Why on earth are you following me around? You nearly got slaughtered by elves on your first day! Do you have a death wish?”

“But that’s the thing Geralt!” Jaskier says eagerly. “I can tell there’s something special about you! I saw you in the tavern and I could tell!”

“You know we’re soulmates?” Geralt demands.

“No, no, no memories at all, but still it feels like...” Jaskier bites his lip, searching for words, which doesn’t happen often. “I’m not sure what it feels like, but it just feels like I’m supposed to be around you, I feel like you can keep me safe. I haven’t figured it out yet obviously, but maybe I will soon!”

Geralt feels his heart ache, remembering the disgust and irritation he feels toward Jaskier in real life without his true memories to assist him.

“I’m sorry for hitting you.” he says quietly.

“Oh that’s alright.” Jaskier says with a grin. “I supposed I deserved it, but I did warn you I was going to be stubborn!”

“Jaskier there’s no way this is going to work.” Geralt says, shaking his head. “I’ve already decided to shake you off when we reach town tomorrow, you’re too slow on foot and you sing too much.”

“You are so grumpy in real life, you know that?” Jaskier says, narrowing his eyes and jabbing a finger at Geralt’s chest. “Like, unbelievably grumpy, and mean! Do you have an entire witcher mutagen dedicated to being taciturn in real life that doesn’t affect you when you’re asleep? I swear you’re like a whole different person!”

“I’ve only known you for a few days in real life.” Geralt said, dropping his arms to his sides with a sigh. “You’re seeing what the world sees of me. I never let that guard down, ever. I can’t afford to. That’s the reality of being a witcher, I can’t ever be vulnerable or that’s the end of it for me.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier says, his eyes dropping. “I’m sorry your life’s been like that.” He looks up with a flame of anger in his own eyes. “I hate the way people look at you, the way you save all of them and then they treat you like garbage. I’m going to make them see who you really are Geralt, I’m already working on songs to do it.”

“Your songs that are already changing the truth of what actually happened to us?” Geralt said with a smile.

“Yes! And they’re going to be fantastically popular.” Jaskier says, absolutely convinced.

“Also,” Geralt says, his smile disappearing and raising an eyebrow as his grip on Jaskier’s shoulder tightens. “You are utterly shameless. I can smell you constantly reeking of lust around me when we’re walking around together, have you ever once in your life tried to be subtle? That’s the biggest reason I’ve decided to shake you off tomorrow.”

Jaskier grins sheepishly, “In my defence you haven’t told me how old you really are?” he tries. “I’m still out there assuming you’re a foxy mid to late thirties.”

“Will it really make a difference when you find out I’m ninety nine?” Geralt asks flatly.

“No.” Jaskier says, his grin no longer sheepish. “Oh, and happy hundredth by the way if you haven’t told me by then.”

“No changing the subject.” Geralt says sternly. “We’re likely never going to see each other again in real life after your obnoxious performance, so I hope you’re satisfied with our one death outing together.”

“Oh, we’ll meet again.” Jaskier said happily.

“And how can you be so sure?” Geralt says dryly.

“Because I’ve already decided I’m going to stalk you across the continent like a lovesick schoolboy.” Jaskier says proudly. “And my awake self decided that all on his own.”

“That’s because you are a lovesick school boy. One who’s going to get himself killed by following me.” Geralt says, shoving at Jaskier’s shoulder as they begin to walk across the meadow to their usual spot by the stream.

“Honestly though Geralt, why have you kept me around even this long? You have to like me at least a little.” Jaskier asks, looking at him curiously as he follows.

“You’re the first human I’ve ever met who doesn’t smell like fear when they look at me.” Geralt says with a shrug. “It’s intriguing. Novel.”

Jaskier makes a sad kind of noise, looking at him and then wrapping him in a second hug.

“Geralt, here I was fishing for compliments and you have to hit me with that?” Jaskier mumbles against his chest.

“Well I’m never ever going to say it in waking, so I might as well.” Geralt sighs.

“Just you wait, we’re going to make it, I know we will.” Jaskier says, looking up at him with a smile full of determination. “I’ll track you down again, you’ll see.”

***

Only nine months and one dream pass before Jaskier manages to find Geralt again in real life. He is extremely smug.

“Just you wait, Witcher.” Jaskier says, using the name he’s picked up from using in real life. “By the end of the year we’ll both have remembered.”

***

If Geralt had known three years passed without a single dream he would have been worried, but of course he has no way of knowing that until he finds himself standing in the field of flowers again.

Jaskier is standing a ways off, arms folded tightly as he stares off into the nothing distance, his shoulders tense.

“Jaskier.” Geralt calls, and the bard turns, a look of sheer relief breaking through his worried expression as he runs to Geralt.

“Why was it so long?” Jaskier asks, face buried against Geralt’s neck as they hold tightly to one another. “Why haven’t we seen each other in so long Geralt?”

Geralt takes a long moment just to breathe in Jaskier’s scent, which is riddled with fear and unease, then kisses his forehead, aching because he knows there’s no good way he can apologize for how he’s acted in waking life. Because of course they have seen each other, quite often in fact, but Geralt hates seeing it with remembering eyes. His gruffness, the constant shoving Jaskier away both figuratively and literally. The way that Jaskier puts up with it all with a smile.

Things aren’t always bad, they’ve had good times too, but not nearly enough to make up for it in his opinion.

“I don’t know.” Geralt says slowly, almost having to remember how to use long sentences again after so long in his customary waking gruffness. “Perhaps it’s because we’re together often in real life. The dreams don’t feel like they have to pull us together any more.”

“It’s been three years Geralt and we haven’t remembered a thing yet.” Jaskier says, his voice sounding a little hoarse against Geralt’s neck. “I, I guess things are pretty normal for us only having known each other three years though, right? Loads of people probably act like we do. With me hanging on and you hating everything...”

Geralt bites his lip, realizing that Jaskier had gotten so used to glossing over his emotions around Geralt in real life that he’s even doing it here now.

“You scare me in real life.” Geralt said, being the first to be honest. “I keep thinking I’m going to break you or scare you off like everyone else, I don’t understand what you see in me to keep following me and being kind and it frightens me. That’s why I still have so many walls, I’ve never had a real human friend, and I’m afraid of how fragile I think you are.”

Jaskier makes a small choking sound, nearly a sob as he looks up and Geralt sees tears in his eyes. “We are friends then?” he asks, voice hoarse. “In real life I mean, I always keep hoping we are or, or will be, but I just don’t know what you think about me really so I just keep joking around it and-”

“You’re the truest friend I’ve ever had Jaskier.” Geralt said firmly, putting a hand gently to his cheek. “You just picked the worst possible person to try befriending. I promise.”

“O-okay.” Jaskier said, tears sliding down his cheeks as he gasps for breath a little. “Okay. It’s just so hard to tell with you sometimes.” He wiped fiercely at his eyes. “Gods, sorry, I swear I’m not this distraught in real life, honestly I’m alright, I’m perfectly pleased to keep worrying away at you for the long haul. It’s just so...so disorienting to be back here I suppose, to remember. I just wish we both remembered already.”

“It’s alright little lark.” Geralt said softly, sitting in the grass and pulling Jaskier down into his arms. Holding him tight, as if it could make up for three years of only rough and brief touches in passing. “This is my fault, I always told you I’d be miserable company in real life.”

“It’s not all bad you know.” Jaskier swallows, resting his head against Geralt’s chest. “Really it’s not. You’re always so kind to people who really need it, and you make the worst jokes when we’re alone on the road together, and you’re so soft with Roach, and you’re terrifying at Gwent. And I know you really do care about me, because you’re always saving my skin every single time I need it, and I know you make sure I get the best parts of our food when we’re running low, and I know you bought me those boots last month because mine were falling apart so don’t even pretend it was because they were cheap anyway. I know they weren’t. I know clothes Geralt.”

Something warm gently flickers in Geralt’s chest as his bard lists so many things Geralt hadn’t considered as being good. They were just things he felt he needed to do. But coming from Jaskier they did sound good. It almost makes him feel better.

“So you’re not miserable then?” Geralt asks hesitantly.

“No! No, not by a long shot.” Jaskier says, wide-eyed as he looks up at him. “Geralt these are the best years I’ve ever had in my life, I get to go adventuring with you and see sights no one in Oxenfurt’s ever seen, and then I get to go hole up for the winter in a warm classroom and write songs while you hibernate up at your witcher castle. This is the dream Geralt.”

“You should have better dreams.” Geralt says softly. “These years are the prime of your life, you should be spending them doing something else.”

“If you remember to tell me all that again when we wake up I’ll do it.” Jaskier says, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Speaking of better dreams,” Geralt says flatly. “would you actually die if you didn’t jump in bed with everything that moves? As glad as I am that you appreciate me dragging you out of every fire you light under yourself, I sometimes forget I’m supposed to be fighting monsters, not cuckolded husbands.”

“Do you have any idea how much sexual frustration I deal with on a daily basis just from being around you?” Jaskier replies seriously. “When you walk around looking like a marble statue in black leather and a loose ponytail? And that’s just when you have clothes on.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Well, good to see you’re feeling better.”

“I’m serious Geralt.” Jaskier says, curling closer to him, looking down at the grass. “I’m not just sticking around for the song material anymore. I’ve...really fallen for you. You could at least pretend to notice.”

“You’re still so young.” Geralt shakes his head, resting his chin gently on Jaskier’s head. “You get obsessed with things all the time, I know you’ll get bored and move on eventually.”

“I won’t. Not from you.” Jaskier says firmly, one hand holding tightly to the front of Geralt’s shirt. “And you can’t keep using my age as an excuse either, I know for a fact that you don’t sleep with prostitutes your age when we visit the Passaflora, so you can stop pretending that’s a valid excuse not to be attracted to me at this point.”

Geralt only chuckles. “I’m only telling you what I really think in waking life Jaskier, you can’t get mad at me for it here.”

“Well, what do you think here?” Jaskier asks, looking up at him, their faces only inches apart now.

Geralt thinks for a moment, looking into the young man’s cornflower blue eyes. He can’t deny that in waking life he has considered more than once how attractive the bard is. But even in waking it’s not something he’s considered at length, far more concerned with the constant challenge of keeping his curious human companion in one piece than anything else.

“What I think here is that you are still young.” Geralt says gently. He kisses Jaskier’s forehead and the bard heaves a sigh.

“You’re the worst soulmate ever, you know that?” He says, squinting up at him accusingly.

“I’ve never claimed to be anything else.” Geralt says, a little too soberly.

“What if we don’t see each other again for another three years?” Jaskier asks, smelling nervous again.

“That’ll probably mean we’re still traveling together fairly often.” Geralt reasons. “You know, if you leave me alone maybe we’ll see each other here more again.”

“Not a chance, witcher.” Jaskier says. “Not a chance.”

***

By the time they’ve traveled together for the better part of twelve years in waking life they’ve seen each other four more times in dreams. Which is not nearly enough, and somehow far too much.

“I’m going to ask you to escort me to Cintra tomorrow night for the betrothal feast, I got invited to play at it.” Jaskier says quietly against Geralt’s shoulder. The two of them are standing in the field of wildflowers together, simply holding each other after years of distance.

“I’ve been gone three days after a selkimore.” Geralt says with a smile. “How are you so sure I’m even alive?”

“Well now I know you’re alive.” Jaskier says, looking up at him with a grin. “I’ll remember.”

“You won’t.”

“I will.” Jaskier says, as if it’s a fact, not a wish. “And when you’re back you’ll probably be covered in all kinds of filth like usual and I’ve got a bath and everything all planned to butter you up to make you come with me.”

“I won’t like it.” Geralt warns.

“You don’t like anything.” Jaskier points out.

“I like you.” Geralt says.

Jaskier looks up at him with his thirty one year old eyes and tilts his head a bit. “How do you mean?”

“In waking life.” Geralt says simply. “I’ve started to really...like you. Unironically, I love having you around me.

“You absolute bastard! I knew it!” Jaskier cries in delight, taking hold of Geralt’s shirt collar. “And yet you still pretend we aren’t friends, but you do like me. I see you listening to all my songs from the back of the tavern, and the way you smile just a little when I talk too long even though you aren’t listening, and you are going to agree to come to Cintra with me aren’t you?”

“I probably will.” Geralt sighed. “When was the last time I told you no?”

“You tell me not to do things all the time, I just don’t listen.” Jaskier says with a smug grin.

“When was the last time you asked me for something and I didn’t eventually do it. Even if I didn’t outright agree.” Geralt corrects gently.

“Do you think...do you think we’ll remember soon?” Jaskier says, eyes wide in hope.

Geralt thinks they might, he really does. Even when awake he’s taken to being far more protective of the bard, keeping him close whenever he can, wanting him to stay. Wanting him. Even if he can’t even admit it to himself while awake.

But he just can’t bear to get his bard’s hopes up when he knows he can’t guarantee anything upon waking. For them to remember both of them have to want to be together, and for years now they’ve only been waiting on him.

“Perhaps.” He says with a shrug. He rests a hand against Jaskier’s face and the bard leans into his touch. “But I hope so.”

“Geralt, can I kiss you?” Jaskier asks, as calmly as if asking whether it was raining outside.

“If you like.” Geralt says.

Their first kiss is as gentle as the breeze whispering through the wildflowers at their feet, as calm as the small brook that flows past them.

The dream fades before they have the chance for a second one.

***

Geralt is sitting in the wildflower field with his head in his hands. Even in dreams his constant waking headache hasn’t left him, in fact it almost seems worse.

Because it’s been five months since Cintra, and everything has gone exactly wrong.

He hears Jaskier appear behind him but doesn’t move. Footsteps through the grass, and then the pleasant warmth of Jaskier draping himself over Geralt’s back, slim arms wrapping around his neck as the bard kisses just behind his ear.

“Well, I assume it’s safe to say that neither of us saw that coming.” Jaskier says with a tired chuckle. “You left in a marvelous huff before I could ask, why did you claim the law of surprise? Really Geralt, after seeing all that, what on earth were you thinking?”

“That you would think it was a terribly funny joke when I inherited a new second hand crown or a fine jacket from it. That we’d both get a laugh from it after such a trying night.” Geralt says hoarsely, having no reason to lie.

“Geralt...” Jaskier says, at a loss for words.

Geralt doesn’t move as they sit in silence, because they both already know that if he hadn’t invoked the law of surprise then he wouldn’t have stormed off on his own, that he and Jaskier would have stayed together, that they just might have remembered each other by now.

And instead they are now alone in waking life, who knew how far apart. For who knew how long this time.

Geralt feels his hair pulled loose out of its half ponytail and Jaskier’s long fingers begin to comb through it. It eases his headache a bit and he closes his eyes.

“But why did you run so fast and so far?” Jaskier asks quietly. “You’d disappeared before I’d even gotten to my feet Geralt, you were long gone by the time I got back to the inn. No one says you have to actually take the child for your own, you could just be a sort of godparent couldn’t you? Just visiting every now and then like a kind uncle, they won’t even be born for-”

“Because I can’t stand it when destiny gets her hooks in children, and this time it’s my fault.” Geralt growls. “When that baby is born they’re going to be caged in at every side by destiny. No matter what they do, they’ll never be able to escape being a child surprise. They aren’t even born yet and their choice is already stripped from them. Because of me.”

Jaskier’s fingers go still in his hair.

“Is that why you hate the idea of soulmates so much?” Jaskier asks quietly.

“This, no, this isn’t about that.” Geralt shakes his head, but Jaskier is already gone from his back.

The bard moves in front of him, sitting down in the grass and looking at Geralt, trapping his gaze. “Is this why we haven’t remembered each other in waking life yet?” Jaskier asks, and Geralt can’t quite tell what emotion it is flavoring the bard’s voice this time, but it’s something sad. “Because deep down you think I’m trapped in this, so that’s why you keep pushing me away? That I have no choice but to be herded back to you by destiny? Is this because I was a child when we first met?”

“That isn’t what I-”

“No, you know what? It’s my turn to talk.” Jaskier says, and the sadness in his voice is so close to anger now that Geralt wishes he was anywhere else but here. “You always say that you don’t believe in destiny and that everything’s up to chance, but we both know that’s not true. I don’t love you because destiny told me to, I love you because you’re the best man I’ve ever met, here or awake. You’ve been the only person I can always rely on, even when you pretend you hate me.

“And think of Urcheon and Pavetta! They had it exactly the same as us, he was already grown when Pavetta was born too, and they still loved each other and remembered their soulmate dreams when they met in person. And now they’re together despite the greatest odds all because of destiny, and after what we both saw at that feast don’t you dare tell me that their love for each other isn’t real.”

“And now they owe their unborn child to a witcher.” Geralt says sourly.

“And why is that so terrible?” Jaskier cries in frustration. “You’re a lovely man Geralt, why is being connected to a child such a terrible concept to you?”

“Because I was a child surprise Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, he doesn’t remember getting to his feet, but now he’s standing over the bard. “Where do you think all the old wives tales of witchers stealing children come from?”

“But those are just tales, they don’t-” Jaskier says weakly.

“Every witcher was a child surprise.” Geralt says hotly. “That’s where we all come from. A life is saved and the law of surprise is demanded in return, and when the child is old enough to walk they’re whisked away, no matter how hard the parents beg. Because it’s destiny. And then seven out of ten of those little boys dies in terrible agony. Because it’s their destiny. My mother couldn’t have kept me back if she wanted to, I don’t even know if she wanted to Jaskier. My entire life has been set by some great unseeing hand and I hate it, and now it’s used me to get its claws into the unborn heir of Cintra, all because I couldn’t keep my idiot mouth shut. Do you perhaps, in all your sage acceptance of fate, see how that could perhaps possibly upset me?”

“Geralt, I didn’t know.” Jaskier says, face pale.

“No, you didn’t.” Geralt snaps. “Because as lovely as things are in this bloody field while we’re asleep, in waking my life is a terrible, dangerous, dark thing. Destiny decided before I was even born that I was to face pain and death every second of my unnaturally long life. I’m always going to be at the end of a blade, and the only thing that’ll keep me from being on the wrong end is if I treat everything around me like a threat. That is why we haven’t remembered each other in waking Jaskier, because you don’t belong in a life like that. I refuse to trap you in that with me.”

The breeze that is always brushing across the wildflower field has disappeared, leaving things unnaturally silent as Jaskier stares up at him. Wide blue eyes gazing at him, mercilessly soft. Geralt wishes that Jaskier would jump up too, that he would start yelling back at him, shove him, give him something else to react against. But he doesn’t.

“Do you love me?” Jaskier asks, watching him.

“What do you mean?” Geralt says.

“Do you?” Jaskier asks.

“Of course I do.”

“Good.”

“What do you mean, good?”

“Because I love you,” Jaskier says simply, picking a pale yellow wildflower from the grass by his knee. “and if we both still love each other that means we’ll manage to find each other again once you come to your senses.”

“Jaskier, I-”

“You don’t get to bad mouth destiny for supposedly taking away my choice and then go and try to take it away yourself.” Jaskier says, getting to his feet.

Geralt finds himself powerless to move as the bard tucks the flower behind his ear and kisses his cheek. Jaskier wraps his arms around his neck.

“I’ve been in your life for twelve waking years witcher,” Jaskier says gently in his ear. “And I’m not a child anymore. By now I know exactly what I’m getting myself into every time I tag along you know, I choose to be around you. I want to be with you. I’ll see you again.”

Geralt closes his eyes, gritting his teeth. Then he sighs, resting his head on Jaskier’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt says.

For yelling at him? For trying to force Jaskier’s hand? For abandoning him without a word in waking life? Or just for destiny tying them together in the first place? Maybe all four.

“Everything will be alright.” Jaskier says, kissing the corner of his mouth. “With us and with your child surprise. Even if it takes a while to get there.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of me?” Geralt asks. “How can you stand to be around me, even when I try driving you away?”

“I can always tell you don’t mean it.” Jaskier says, looking serious. “Deep down I think I know it’s not the real you when you act like that. But you’re lucky my waking self is convinced we’re soulmates and that we’ll wake up any moment, because sometimes you really are a prick Geralt.”

“You really think we’re soulmates when you’re awake?” Geralt asks, looking him in the eyes.

“It’s a ridiculously optimistic wish I can’t manage to make myself let go of.” Jaskier says with a shrug. “But we both know I’m a bit of an idiot.”

“Hmmm.” Geralt agrees.

“Not nearly as much of an idiot as you, but we make a fine pair I’ll admit.” Jaskier says with a grin.

Geralt moves to kiss him, but the dream fades before he has the chance.

***

The next time they meet he kisses Jaskier before he has the chance to say anything.

“Well. Hello, you.” Jaskier says, breathless but smiling as Geralt finally releases him from the kiss.

“Didn’t get to kiss you last time,” Geralt says, burying his face against Jasker’s neck and breathing in the bard’s scent. “Wanted to get it done first this time.”

“Well I certainly have no objection to that.” Jaskier hums. “I miss you you know, it’s been a few years. I’ve started courting a countess in your absence if you can believe it.”

“How terribly unfortunate for you.” Geralt says. He laughs as Jaskier smacks him.

***

“So. Yennifer.” Jaskier says quietly.

The two of them are curled up together in the long grass, Jaskier’s back against Geralt’s chest. The bard traces his fingers aimlessly over the arm Geralt has around his waist.

“Hmmm.” Geralt says, burying his nose in Jaskier’s hair, as if that will somehow keep them from the topic. But this is the first time they’ve seen each other since the djinn, so of course they’re going to talk about it.

“You know for not wanting people to be attached to you through cosmic means, you’re terrible at it.” Jaskier says.

“I really don’t need a reminder.” Geralt grumbles, closing his eyes tiredly.

“Why did you bind yourself to her?” Jaskier asks, words crisp. As if trying his hardest to keep them unemotional.

“She saved your life Jaskier, I couldn’t let her die.”

Geralt nearly whines as Jaskier pulls away from him, sitting up to look him in the face.

“She framed you for something that nearly got you executed, and then she tried to rope me into a dark ritual that went so badly it ripped an entire manor to pieces.” Jaskier says flatly. “You’d known her all of a few hours. You absolutely could have let her die.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt sighs.

“Is it because she’s older than you?” Jaskier says, his tone back to the flat clipped tone that means he’s hiding his emotions. “Is it because she’s powerful? Because she hates you? Everything I’m not?”

“Jaskier, no.” Geralt says, pushing himself up with a frown. “Yen is a good person, she’s just very old and hurting.”

“So you want her as your soulmate instead because she’s like you.” Jaskier says. “Because you can’t want things for yourself if they don’t involve something dangerous enough to kill you. That’s why you really like her isn’t it? Because chasing after her gives you the same rush as hunting monsters, it’s all you know how to do.”

“This is not about replacing you.” Geralt says, reaching for his wrist. “You’ve been with plenty of other people, that countess of yours kept you occupied for several years, why am I not allowed the same?”

“Because I don’t bind their souls to me with a djinn wish!” Jaskier snaps, yanking his arm away and getting to his feet.

“Jaskier, please, I’m sorry.” Geralt says, kneeling in front of the bard, hands up in surrender. “A djinn can’t kill its master, the only way I could think to save her was by binding her to me. It’s magic that can be undone, it’s not the same as destiny. I couldn’t let her die after she saved you. I would have broken if you’d died because of me.”

Jaskier crosses his arms, swallowing hard as he looks away. But he doesn’t say anything.

“And you’re right,” Geralt says, pressing on in the way he only ever manages when he’s not awake, when there’s only Jaskier to hear him. Where not even he will remember what he said in a few hours. “I am attracted to her because she’s like me. We have a lot of the same pain, a lot of the same fears.”

“Oh? And what is it that Yennefer of Vengerburg is so afraid of?” Jaskier says hotly.

“That she’ll never truly be loved, that’s she’s so far from human that no one will ever be able to need and care about her.” Geralt says.

“You can’t honestly believe that about yourself.” Jaskier says, looking at him with an expression of sad anger.

“I do when I’m awake.” Geralt says quietly. Because what else can he say?

Jaskier clenches his jaw, making a muffled irritated sound as he turns and stomps a few steps away, rubbing his face before turning back.

“How can you be so thick?” he cries, sharply gesturing at him with both hands. “How Geralt? How can you possibly be this dense? Why must you always see something simple and think to yourself, how can I make this as complicated as possible instead, hmmm? Is that something they taught you in Witcher school, all those apparently eons ago since you’re sooo old that you’re beyond the reach of human love and reason? You drag yourself into every terrible situation you can find, and then you have the audacity to be shocked when it has less than optimal results. Every single time.”

Jaskier is rambling. Which Geralt knows by now means less that the bard truly means what he says, and more that the man is trying very hard not to cry.

Geralt silently gets to his feet and catches Jaskier, pulling him into an embrace despite the bard’s protests and struggling. Jaskier hisses and pushes at him, hitting his chest, but then the bard goes limp in his arms, beginning to cry into Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt says nothing, having nothing he can say. So he just holds Jaskier as the man sobs, looks up at the blue nothing sky.

“I hate these dreams.” Jaskier says thickly, face buried against Geralt’s neck. “I hate them. Everything is simpler when I’m awake, I hate remembering that things could be better, I wish I could just forget.”

“You don’t mean that.” Geralt says, his heart breaking.

“Don’t I?” Jaskier says, looking up at him with red rimmed eyes, tears running down his cheeks. “When I’m awake at least I have the luxury of thinking you’re an unrealistic fantasy, I can think every second I have with you is the best I’ve ever had. When I’m here I’m reminded every minute of what I don’t have, and even worse that you do care. It’s like having two hearts to be broken instead of only one Geralt.”

“Jaskier...please...” Geralt says helplessly, words failing him as surely as if he were awake. “If I knew how to fix this I would, you know I would.”

“I don’t know that anymore Geralt, that’s the problem.” Jaskier cries. “Because all I’ve ever heard you say in waking is that you don’t want to be needed, and when I’m here all you ever talk about is how much you don’t want me in your life with you. What am I supposed to think Geralt?”

“I...”

I’m not good at this.

I’m only pushing you away to protect you because I really do love you.

I need you.

But Geralt can’t figure out how to get the feelings from his brain to his mouth, leaving him stumbling for words as Jaskier watches him.

Geralt feels the dream fading around them and it only blocks his speech worse as he panics.

Jaskier disappears from his arms.

***

The next time Geralt finds himself in the wildflower field he is immediately consumed by a prickling feeling of guilt and panic that curls in his gut. Because even in waking he’s been consumed by uneasy guilt for the last two weeks, convinced he’s made a truly deep mistake but not quite knowing why underneath all his justifications.

If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.

...I’ll see you around Geralt...

And now he knows exactly why, with excruciating clarity.

He sees a figure in the distance, watching him. Jaskier’s shirt is whipping in the stiff wind that races across the wildflower field, stronger than it’s ever been before, ripping petals off stems. The blue nothing sky has become a dark grey nothing sky above them, and sharp, dangerous shadows stretch across the field from nowhere.

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouts, starting toward him. He has to reach him, he has to make things right, fix what he’s done. He’s messed up far too badly this time, he has to fix this.

Jaskier doesn’t move, just watches him approach as the wind picks up even stronger, ripping up blades of grass and dirt that pelt against Geralt as he picks up speed.

“Jaskier, I-!”

Jaskier turns away from Geralt and walks away.

He takes two steps and vanishes completely into thin air.

Geralt stumbles to a halt, shielding his face as he shouts Jaskier’s name, not even hearing himself above the howling of the wind. He tries to push forward but is knocked to his knees. He squeezes his eyes shut against the gale, hunching down to dig his fingers into the ground to try and anchor himself, but everything feels like it is slipping, being ripped away from around him as he tries desperately to-

***

Geralt jolts upright, already half to his feet in a blind panic before the sleep clears from his head. He looks around and sees his camp. He’s awake. He’s alone. His pulse is racing from his dream.

He pants as he sits back down on his bedroll, forcing himself to take deep breaths as his heart beats far too fast for a witcher.

The noises of the forest night gently ease back into his senses as he rubs his face. The chirping of crickets, the whispering of a night breeze in the tree branches above him, the soft noises of Roach, who is watching him with worried interest from where she is grazing a few yards away in the dark. His campfire hasn’t even burned down to embers yet, so he gets up and throws on another log for the flames to eat at, trying to ignore the cold sweat covering him as he shakes slightly.

Because he hasn’t been able to sleep for three days now. Not even meditating helps for long.

Because every time he truly slips into unconsciousness he ends up in the same nightmare, and he doesn’t even know why it’s a nightmare. He’s always standing alone in the middle of a torn up field cast in a dark reddish light, strewn with the dead wreckage of uprooted grass and flowers. There is a dried up streambed and the air is dead still around him, feeling nearly suffocating.

And that’s all there is. Geralt’s never even seen the field before that he knows of, but every nightly visit fills him with such a sick feeling of loss that he wakes up shaking.

The night before it all started he’d actually woken up crying.

Though he doesn’t remember what it is he dreamed of that night.

“It’s got to be a warning.” Geralt says to Roach as he pulls a waterskin from his pack, voice not shaking. “If it’s the same vision repeated. But I don’t know what for, I never see anyone or anything. There’s not even buildings...just...dead flowers...”

He sits heavily on a log near the side of the campfire, drinking from the waterskin as he tries to pull his thoughts back together. But as he does his mind turns immediately to the other thing he’s been desperately trying not to think about.

Because he may be haunted by a dead field in his dreams, but when he’s awake all he can see is the back of a red doublet. All he can hear is his own angry words ringing in his mind. Jaskier’s unsteady ones in reply. Playing over and over and over and over-

“What am I supposed to do?” Geralt growls, throwing his hands up at the sky. Roach startles a little at his near shouting but Geralt isn’t even sure he’s talking to her anymore. To himself? Maybe. “I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I’m alone...”

Didn’t he want to be alone? Isn’t that what he’s been claiming his entire life?

“He was going to get hurt.” Geralt says lamely, his worn out excuse sounding pitiful. “He’s already spent too much of his life around me...he should be somewhere else...”

Nevermind that after so many years of company Geralt is always miserable without the bard beside him, no matter how much he tries to deny it. No matter that he knows for a fact that he’d hurt Jaskier worse than any monster they’d faced over the years when he’d shouted at him on that mountain.

The part that really hurts though is that Geralt knows he hadn’t even blamed Jaskier for things that were really his fault. He’d targeted Jaskier knowing he would take it, that the bard was the one person in the world who always stuck by him no matter how he treated him.

And it made Geralt sick. He’d finally crossed the line. Crossed the line and lost what he hadn’t known he had.

No, because that was a lie too. He knows he loves Jaskier, has for years. He’s just too much of a coward to accept it. Not when there is so much love bursting out of the bard, a frightening amount of care and affection waiting right in front of him. Something that Geralt can’t stand to lose, and therefore couldn’t risk touching, in case he harms it.

Geralt snarls at himself, starting to gather up his camp. Roach knickers curiously as he saddles her and packs everything into saddlebags, then goes over and stomps out the campfire. There was no use hanging around if he wasn’t going to be able to sleep anyway. That and he needs to get on the trail before he loses his nerve.

“Come on Roach.” he barks, pulling himself up into the saddle and digging in his heels.

Roach winnies and starts off under the light of the moon as Geralt steers her back to the main road.

If Geralt rides hard they could be back to the mountain in a day or two and he can track Jaskier from there. On foot the bard won’t have made it too far in three weeks, Geralt knows Jaskier prefers staying days or even weeks at a time in each town when Geralt isn’t with him. If he’s lucky he might be able to track him down in three or four days time.

He only hopes he won’t be collapsing from lack of sleep by then. He still has no idea how to treat his nightmares, should probably contact Triss or Yen about it before he goes mad, but Jaskier at least he knows how to find.

He has no idea what he can possibly say to the bard when he does, but even riding in the right direction makes him feel a little better. He just tries not to think about how long he’s been riding in the wrong one.

***

Jaskier has been bleeding for three weeks, but it’s the kind that no one else can see.

He bleeds into his lyrics, he bleeds into the notes he sings. Late at night he lays in bed, staring blankly at the wall of his inn room, feeling his sadness seep down into the sheets under him. Leaving him feeling hollow and cold.

The coin is good. People are moved by his music. The inn rooms are good. Paid for by the coin.

He supposed he could have found himself good company as well if he’d been able to look anyone in the eye.

Instead he is sitting outside in the dark. Alone. He sits under a tree near the empty market square of the town he’s been staying in for a week now, only the low flickering glow of hung lanterns to keep him company as he watches the night around him. It must be close to midnight, but he’s been sitting here since sunset, his lute laying silently in his lap, watching the night with him.

Because Jaskier does not know why it hurts so much, why being chased off by Geralt of Rivia has cut him to his very core in a way nothing else ever has. Especially since, despite the cheerful face he wears, Jaskier is no stranger to grief and disappointment.

Jaskier had longed after Geralt from the moment they met, back when he was practically still a child. They’d become good friends, despite what the Witcher often claimed, and Jaskier had always thought something was different about them. There must have been with the way Geralt allowed him closer and longer than anyone else in his life. Jaskier knew that Geralt cared about him underneath all of his emotional barriers, in recent years he’d even thought...had even suspected that...

Jaskier takes a slow, deep breath of the cool night air. He has been still so long that his body feels a step distant. As if he is merely a spirit watching invisibly with the trees as the night air brushes through the sparse grass in the empty marketplace. He wonders if this is how Geralt feels when he meditates.

He’ll never know now. Not now that Jaskier is finally realizing that it’s over. That he will no longer track down the Witcher, can never again follow behind him. Because if after all this time, after all these years, Geralt truly wants him gone...then Jaskier will finally give up.

So why does it feel like something deep inside of him has broken?

Jaskier watches as a figure makes its way down the street toward the square, a large man who is moving slowly. Jaskier watches with a detached kind of interest, this is simply the latest passerby to wander through the square this evening and Jaskier sits in the deep shadow of the tree, tucked safely out of sight.

But as the man moves closer Jaskier feels a prickle of unease. The man is moving more strangely than he’d realized, slowing every few steps as if...smelling the air...

Jaskier’s pulse quickens as his brain starts flipping through his mental catalogue of beasts and monsters, one that is quite extensive after decades of traveling with a witcher. He suddenly feels very foolish for indulging his dramatic side by staying out so late alone, his warm inn room with its lovely lockable door feels as if it is on the opposite side of the continent.

In the dark of the night Jaskier makes out the creature stopping, as if it can hear his pounding heart, and then Jaskier breaks into a cold sweat as whatever it is heads directly toward him, eyes reflecting unnaturally in the weak light of the lanterns.

Jaskier stumbles to his feet, clutching his lute in one hand and drawing his silver dagger with the other. A gift from Geralt he’s worn for the better part of twenty years now, having been taught to use it after a life on the road.

“Stay back.” Jaskier says in as clear a voice as he can manage, brandishing the dagger. “I’m armed with silver and I have no interest in a fight tonight. Take yourself elsewhere.”

The figure stops, hands held up. “Jaskier, it’s me.” Says an all too familiar voice.

Jaskier feels a raw place inside of him ache as Geralt cautiously edges a bit closer, enough to be illuminated by the light of a lantern.

Jaskier’s hand trembles on the dagger, and then he sheaths it. He turns and walks away without a word, feeling a clawing sense of deja vu as he walks toward his inn.

“Jaskier, please.” Geralt’s voice says, and of course the Witcher keeps up easily, walking by his side as Jaskier refuses to look at him.

After three weeks of bleeding he just doesn’t have anything left to give. He is drained, he can’t even look at Geralt.

“Jaskier-”

He jerks as he feels a hand close on his wrist. He feels tears start to prick in his eyes as he yanks his arm away, turning to look Geralt square in the face.

“Why are you here?” Jaskier demands, his voice nearly a snarl as he looks up at the witcher. “What do you want, Geralt?”

Geralt stops, looking stung. Good, as he should. The brute probably hasn’t even given what he did a second thought the whole time Jaskier’s felt like dying.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Geralt says, sounding gruff and oddly off balance.

“Go back to whatever contract it is you’re working and leave me alone.” Jaskier snaps, struggling to keep down the hot tears he can feel rising. “I left, just like you wanted, alright? Now go.”

“I didn’t...I...” Geralt struggles for words, huffing in frustration as he rubs his face.

Jaskier can’t tell for sure in the dim light but he thinks he sees dark circles under the witcher’s eyes, as if he hasn’t been sleeping. He’s...never seen Geralt look this worn out before...

He swallows, trying his best to push away the concern rising in him as he starts to notice signs of distress all over Geralt. Bags under his eyes, his hair loose and unbrushed, armor dusty with hard travel but clean of the viscera that would mean he’d been getting work. Things that perhaps only Jaskier would notice.

“You didn’t what?” Jaskier asks, hating himself for still caring enough to be worried, his voice losing a bit of its heat.

“I didn’t...mean it.” Geralt says, his voice sounding a little hoarse as he gets the words out.

“Didn’t mean what?” Jaskier demands, folding his arms as tightly as he can, as if that will shield him from this distressed witcher who has tracked him down in the middle of the night. Who doesn’t look at all like he’s working a contract. Who looks as tired as Jaskier has felt for weeks.

“What I said.” Geralt says, swallowing as he looks away, as if unable to meet Jaskier’s gaze. “On the mountain. I was angry. I was unfair to you.”

Jaskier feels stunned, unable to say anything.

Geralt...is apologizing.

“I know I’m a terrible companion-” Geralt says, continuing in the silence.

“You are.” Jaskier says, his voice higher than it should be.

“But...everything feels wrong without you.” Geralt looks up, catching Jaskier’s gaze with his steady golden amber eyes. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at words like you are Jaskier. But I’m sorry, I didn’t mean what I said.”

Geralt looks like he is biting the inside of his cheek, as if he’s scared. Jaskier has seen Geralt upset, uneasy, surprised, hesitant, even startled. But never scared, and he finds it scares him.

“I...” Geralt swallows, looking like he is bracing himself for something painful. “I need you Jaskier. And I know that I’ve made things so difficult, and I know that you have no reason to forgive me, but I don’t think I can pretend anymore that I...that I don’t care for you. Even if that means you might be in harm’s way. Because you’ve been by my side for decades, and I don’t want to continue without you.”

Jaskier feels as if the ground has dropped out from under his feet, as if he’s been slammed back against the wall behind him. His head is an overwhelming mess of fragmented thoughts and emotions, because what on earth is happening?

He presses a hand tight against his mouth as he turns away from Geralt, unable to handle his gaze a moment longer as he tries desperately to think, to pull together some of those words he’s so well known for. He can do this, he can come up with some scrappy, witty reply. He can shrug all of this off with a joke that will clear everything up and they’ll be on their way again.

Just like he has for the past twenty two years now.

But instead Jaskier’s chest shudders and he feels hot tears spill down his cheeks as he begins to cry. His shoulders tremble as he tries to stifle the emotion down behind the hand he has painfully tight against his mouth, his other arm still held against himself as if it could hold him together.

Because he’d thought he’d been bleeding for three weeks, in a way no one else could see, but suddenly he thinks perhaps he’s been bleeding for far longer than that...that perhaps he’s been bleeding for years. And he suddenly doesn’t know if that’s something he can go back to. Because Geralt says that he cares for him, which Jaskier knows for this vocabulary sparse witcher means love.

And if Geralt loves him, can Jaskier really chance losing himself entirely should things go wrong again? Because if he forgives Geralt this time, if he allows himself to want the witcher this time, Geralt will have all of him. Jaskier won’t be able to hold back, he knows it, he won’t be able to keep the vulnerable parts of himself safe anymore.

And that scares him more than he’s ever been scared in his life.

He braces his free hand against the wall as he shakes. It feels as if some secret part of him, some reservoir of extra years of sadness and longing and hurt he hadn’t known about have come loose, flooding him with an overwhelming wave of unexpected emotion. But where is it coming from? He wildly wonders if perhaps he is dying. Because this is what he imagines dying would feel like.

“Julian. I’m sorry.” Geralt says, his voice full of so much pain and concern that it makes Jaskier cry harder. He feels the faintest pressure ghost over his shoulder, as if Geralt had nearly reached out for him but then pulled back. “Do you want me to go? I’ll leave if you want me to. I’m sorry, I don’t, I didn’t mean....”

“Don’t!” Jaskier says, the word coming out in a teary panic. “Don’t leave.”

Because as much as he wants all of this to somehow disappear, even if he can’t bring himself to turn around just yet, the one thing he knows that will not be able to stand is if Geralt leaves him like this.

He bites his lip hard as he feels warm, hesitant hands on his arms. And then Geralt pulls him against him in a tight hug, arms wrapped around Jaskier’s chest protectively. Jaskier leans back against him, holding onto Geralt’s arms like a lifeline, fighting to get his breathing under control as the physical contact anchors him, somehow making everything seem less like it’s spinning out from under him. Geralt has never held Jaskier like this, but it still somehow feels familiar, it feels safe and right and has Jaskier wishing it could always like this.

“I’m sorry.” Geralt says again quietly, his voice right next to Jaskier’s ear. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Jaskier says, his breath finally under control. He feels a cool breeze sweep past them. “But it’s so hard to keep this up Geralt, I can’t stand only remembering how much I really love you when we’re asleep, when we’re waking it’s like-”

Jaskier’s breath catches as the same instant that Geralt’s does, memories of a wildflower field rushing through him. Years of friendship and love and trust revealing themselves like a flower unfurling. His fingers dig into Geralt’s arm in shock as the witcher’s embrace tightens almost painfully, because of course if Jaskier is remembering, they both are.

“W-we’re awake.” Jaskier chokes. He turns in Geralt’s arms, looking up at him. “We’re awake.”

“We’re awake.” Geralt says, his voice thin with shocked wonder.

“We’re awake!” Jaskier cries, throwing his arms around Geralt’s neck as his tears begin anew. But this time he is laughing through them as Geralt crowds him up against the wall, kissing him hard and desperate.

“I haven’t slept in a week.” Geralt says between kisses, his voice raw with emotion as his hands roam Jaskier’s body, as if checking to make sure it’s really him. “I thought I’d lost you, the field, it’s all ripped up, I didn’t know where you’d gone.”

“I’m sorry.” Jaskier gasps, carding his fingers through Geralt’s white hair even as he pulls him closer. “I’m sorry Geralt, I was so hurt and angry, I couldn’t stand it anymore when I didn’t think you cared anymore. But you’re here, we’re both here and we’re awake and we remember. You really want me with you then? If we both remember?”

“I’ve always wanted you with me little lark, I just took too long to realize it.” Geralt says, burying his face against Jaskier’s neck and breathing in his scent.

“I can’t believe we aren’t trapped in that wretched field anymore.” Jaskier says giddily, nuzzling against Geralt’s temple as he runs his hands down the witcher’s sides, just because he can. “We can get something to eat together, we can see a sunset, we can sleep in a bed, we can be around other people.” His eyes light up. “I have my lute! I can play you songs instead of only singing!”

“We’ve already done all of those things.” Geralt says with a fond smile, kissing stray tears off of Jaskier’s face.

“But now we can really do them. Together. Because we’re finally both here.” Jaskier says, taking Geralt’s face in his hands and kissing him softly.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.” Geralt says, eyes closed as he rests his forehead against Jaskier’s. “I’m sorry I hurt you, little lark.”

“Hush. No more apologizing.” Jaskier says, stroking his thumb against Geralt’s cheek, his heart flutters as the witcher leans into his touch. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, you’ve already given me the best proof you can that you really mean it.”

“What do we even do now?” Geralt says with a chuckle, shaking his head a bit with a smile. “We won’t fade away in less than an hour, what do people even do with so much time together?”

Jaskier smiles as the witcher’s last last words are drowned in an enormous yawn. He wraps his arms around Geralt’s neck, gently kissing down the side of his throat.

“First you are going to carry me back to the inn and we are going to sleep until tomorrow evening because you look ready to fall over, darling.” Jaskier says softly. “And when we wake up we’ll still be together, and we will still remember we are together.”

“Mmmm.” Geralt hums appreciatively, hoisting Jaskier up into his arms with little effort. “And then?”

“I’m sure we’ll think of something to occupy ourselves.” Jaskier says, resting a hand on Geralt’s chest and leaning up to bite at his lower lip. “I’ve got some very time consuming ideas we can try. I have the room paid for through the end of the week, fresh heartbreak sells very well you know.”

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Geralt says soberly, holding him closer as he begins to walk toward the inn.

“You already have.” Jaskier says softly, resting his head against Geralt’s shoulder.

There are so many things that must still be discussed, how this changes things. But Jaskier can’t find himself quite caring at the moment, instead closing his eyes he basks in the warm feeling.

Because he feels that he is home. A home that he will finally never have to leave again.

#the witcher #geralt #jaskier #dandelion #geraskier #wit writes #apparently my 'oh let me write a quick little thing' ideas come in 500 words or 10k #no inbetween #I wanted to see if I could make a soulmate au that had plausible reasons for not recognizing each other right away instead of relying #on bad communication #and here we is #and geraskier weeks has been so fun to read I figure I might as well throw mine into the ring too

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sanchowatersim · 4 years

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Get to know me better tag

Rules: bold everything that applies to you and tag 10 people you’d like to get know better.

@simanin, thanks for your tag!!!!

Appearance:

I’m over 5’5” ( like 5'10 ″, you americans and other eng speakers, use stupid ft, but in my world we use cm ARGH!!!!) // I wear glasses/contacts // I have blonde hair (not now but in the past and mb in the future when my dye will over) // I prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // I have one or more piercings (if be more exact, i have five) // I have at least one tattoo // I have blue eyes // I have dyed or highlighted my hair (sweet fuchsia blue at the start and sky blue at the end) // I have gotten plastic surgery // I have or had braces // I sunburn easily (close to it, i guess) // I have freckles (only on the nose) // I paint my nails (sometimes when have a right mood) // I sometimes wear makeup (mb, a couple times a year) // I don’t often smile // I am pleased with how I look (of course, sometimes i catch that bad mood when u hate everything in u) // I prefer Nike to Adidas // I wear baseball hats backwards

Hobbies and Talents:

I play a sport // I can play an instrument (i finally get my ukulele so im trying ok?) // I am artistic (it’s like a part of my personality) // I know more than one language (rus and ukr r my native, and eng as u can see) // I have won a trophy in some sort of competition // I can cook or bake without a recipe (should i say that all of that recipes have first level of difficulty?) // I know how to swim // I enjoy writing (for several years ive been trying to write a novel about my characters) // I can do origami // I prefer movies to TV shows // I can execute a perfect somersault // I enjoy singing // I could survive in the wild on my own // I have read a new book series this year // I enjoy spending time with friends // I travel during school or work breaks // I can do a handstand

Relationships:

I am in a relationship // I have been single for over a year // I have a crush // I have a best friend I have known for ten years // My parents are together // I have dated my best friend // I am adopted // My crush has confessed to me // I have a long distance relationship // I am an only child // I give advice to my friends (it would be great if i also used these advices) // I have made an online friend // I met up with someone I have met online

Aesthetics:

I have heard the ocean in a conch shell // I have watched the sunrise // I enjoy rainy days // I have slept under the stars // I meditate outside // The sound of chirping calms me // I enjoy the smell of the beach // I know what snow tastes like // I listen to music to fall asleep // I enjoy thunderstorms (it’s sound of beatuful dreams) // I enjoy cloud watching // I have attended a bonfire // I pay close attention to colours // I find mystery in the ocean // I enjoy hiking on nature paths // Autumn is my favourite season (like a winter and spring...i think its obvious that i dislike summer the most)

Miscellaneous:

I can fall asleep in a moving vehicle (its easy for me, but i like to look at the road or changing landscapes so i ussually trying to not fall asleep in a transport) // I am the mom friend (who drinks a lot, smokes a lot, uses a bad words a lot, and yeah, sometimes dont answers for her mom’s calls but by mistake! but im really the mom friend) // I live by a certain quote // I like the smell of sharpies // I am involved in extracurricular activities // I enjoy Mexican food // I can drive a stick-shift // I believe in true love (usually its hard to belive) // I make up scenarios to fall asleep (and I have dozens of them) // I sing in the shower // I wish I lived in a video game (just for experience, surely not forever!) // I have a canopy above my bed // I am multiracial (i have ukrainian, russian and mb gypsy blood) // I am a redhead // I own at least three dogs

I tag everyone who hasn’t been tagged before! Yes I’m very kind...but really lazy, hehehe

~ Well, I’m back. I had a lot of different things, such as uni exams, my birthday and the work that i had to do before i got my legal free time for gaming, cc and friends, and other stuff I like more than my work and uni. Also I was trapped by the nasty mood when I feel myself so stupid, useless. More than usually. That sensation was too much for me. So I didn’t even try to do something that i like to do. The Sims and tmbrl also was suffered because of it. Now, bit by bit, I going to back to sims, to cc, to socializing here. Hope that I didn’t give you enough time to forget me. So see you soon and stay tune!

#get-to-know-me-better-tag #nonsims #simbr #sanchowatersim #what is sharpies?#and also i prefer #Fila #give me money for tattoo

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professorspork · 5 years

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I was going thru the frozen tag n thinking about all the things this is to me. Me my sister, her mental illness our pushing the other away, our confusion and all our loneliness. And all my longing, for more friends for more time for more connection and all this movie is in unwavering hope, and rebounds after loss and REBUILDING. And Love. And love. And going thru ur frozen tag, reading more takes. Making this movie MORE to me than it already was(which is: all the world) —cont

But also im still deeply reeling from the sequel. Which, while it has great great parts. Kind of feels like a rug being pulled out from underneath the healing of the first movie. Which. Cause this is my comfort movie. I’m kinda taking it hard. Idk. I just needed to share this. Separation anxiety and idk.. fear that eventually I won’t be enough for people around me and they’ll go other ways. I just. I’m too lonely for the *reconciliation* movie to turn to be abt still needing more

You said it was alright to post publicly, so here goes:

I can't tell you how moved I am that you'd come to me with this. I have a lot of things to say, and I think ultimately very little of it has much to do with Frozen 2--though I'll get around to that, so just flagging to everyone that the Read More is there for spoilers as well as length.

I'm not sure that everything that I have to say will resonate, so please feel free to take what helps and leave aside what doesn't. Know that every word is meant with all the tenderness in my heart. I ache over what you're going through, because it's as real a feeling as any of us will ever encounter.

First, I want to say that I've stood where you're standing--many, many times. The series finales of How I Met Your Mother, Warehouse 13 and Pitch felt like such slaps in the face I have never to this day been able to muster up the same love for the hours upon hours worth of episodes that preceded them, no matter how much they once meant to me. And just a few months ago, Endgame ripped my fucking heart out, tbh.

I could write a whole essay about the similarities between Steve and Bucky and Elsa and Anna, but luckily I don't have to because a bunch of my favorite people have gamed that out extensively. But the things you talk about, about how the most important things from the first movie-- the miracle of these two people finding each other and choosing each other after so much time apart, and how much that meant to you--I relate to that so deeply. And I can see how, in the face of that, the fact that after everything Anna and Elsa take steps in different directions, away from one another, can feel like the most cutting betrayal. I want you to know that I understand that, and that you don't have to justify that feeling to anybody, or apologize for it. It's not a childish reaction, nor are these childish notions. Learning how to be in the world and how to value others and be valued in return is what we turn to fiction for. We see us; we learn how to be an us. So like. If you take nothing else away from this, please know that. I feel you, buddy. I hear you. And you may feel lonely, but you're not alone.

I wish I had advice for you on how to get to the other side of these emotions. If you can, I hope you can talk to your sister about how you're feeling--and if not, to other family members or friends. (I also don't know if it's an option for you, but I can say from experience that therapy was super helpful for me in sorting through my own expectations for myself and the world around me and how to cope when I couldn't make them match up.) We're strangers, you and I, so I can't be as specific or as helpful to you as I'd like. I don't know you very well.

I do, however, feel like I know Anna and Elsa. And maybe talking that part out a bit might show you a facet that makes this a bit easier to swallow. (And it's fine if it doesn't! Feel free to take with many grains of salt, or to not take at all.)

I think something that's important to remember is that, before her coronation, Elsa hadn't left her house--had barely left her room--in over a decade. She wasn't just estranged from Anna, she was estranged from the whole world, and from all of the experiences that being in the world entails. When we catch up with them at the start of Frozen 2, she's had three years of a mended, tight-knit relationship with Anna. But whether it's through the responsibilities of being Queen or her own doubts, she hasn't built that bridge any further than her immediate circle--Anna, Kristoff, Olaf and Sven. When she sings "Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls," to me that tells me everything I need to know. They've opened the doors, but only just long enough for Anna to step in. They're still not confident enough to leave the castle that was a cage for both of them for so many years until they're forced to.

And when they are forced to, they learn that they have duties to other people outside of their immediate family. Not duties in the royal sense, but in the moral, ethical, "what we owe each other" sense. They learn that community means acts of loving service, to others and to yourself. Your mileage may vary, but I don't read the sisters' decisions as pulling the rug out from under their healing. To me, it's building upon that healing and sharing it with others. They're now secure enough in each other, in that bubble of love and safety that they created, that they can start to expand it. They can take the tools they developed to repair themselves and each other, and use them to repair the whole world. It's not that they're not enough for each other--it's that they realize they're overflowing with it. They have so much to give it has to carry on and out to everyone around them.

Or, to put it another way--just because Anna and Elsa are moving in different directions when we leave them at the end of Frozen 2, doesn't mean they're on different paths. No matter where they go in the world, they'll always find their way back to each other. And in the meantime, they walk together even when they're apart, because each carries the other with them. You know? To me, it’s not an “or.” It’s an “and.”

#i hope this helps #i'll be thinking of you #i am not an Authority #nor am I a mental health professional #but i can certainly hear you and give you a platform to grieve a bit #frozen 2 #frozen 2 spoilers #frozen #ashesandmint

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cheddar-the-dog · 5 years

Text

tell me again (about how it hurts)

read on ao3

it’s Rosa’s first thanksgiving after coming out to her parents - it’s very angst loaded and centers mostly on Rosa’s journey of it all. written for the fall fic exchange on tumblr for @exploding-snapple: I chose the prompt “Rosa's first Thanksgiving with her family (including her two sisters and their kids) since coming out“ and combined it with Rosa’s and Amy’s friendship because they’re the sleuth sisters!Thank you to @b99fandomevents for organizing the Fall Fic Exchange! You’re doing great! And thank you to @meepmorpperaltiago @enigmatic-b1tch @b99peraltiago and @darkrosemind for being so patient with me and my insecurities.

Now that we have that out of the way:

I really hope you enjoy it!

“Coming out feels like you have no space to rest but everything around you is a bed. It is to watch your loved ones mistake the flowers on your tongue for high-power blades. And nothing you say will make the cuts heal faster but saying nothing, saying nothing will mean the cut stays a cut. Bloodstains the shape of mouths that will spell acceptance only as long as it is another’s daughter. My coming out was an apology repeating itself endlessly until it found out there was no forgiveness.” - Swastika Jajoo

When you got the text from your sister, asking if you’re going to be coming home this weekend for Thanksgiving you froze. For a second there, you stopped breathing and tried to push down the anxiety that rose at the thought of having to go back home. It made you sick but so did it from the first year you moved out. (Ever since you can remember really.)

[[MORE]]

Returning home for Thanksgiving always goes something along the lines of: all your family there and everyone is asking you if you found a good guy yet. Seeing your sisters happily married with their husbands and all their children prancing about. Viewing the whole house as their playground, running around without a sorrow on their mind. Without care or concern for the world around them. And then there’s always been you: alone, different, isolated, alien. Always feeling out of place in the house, in a world, that once had been your playground.

You shuddered at the thought of returning home after what had happened only a few months prior: the restaurant and the shouting, family game night, more shouting (and shouting and shouting and shouting), your father coming to your work to apologize, your mother--

And once upon-a-time-family-game-nights.

And god, the tears. Tears over tears over tears. Your mother’s words burning hot like acid on your skin. A constant reminder that maybe you truly are unloved. That maybe you don’t deserve the love of your family after all.

You always dreaded any family gathering for that matter. The thought of having to hide who you are in front of the people that were supposed to know you since the beginning of time was just-- your family never talked much about anything anyway but this, this always felt different. In an unexplainable gut wrenching way. It makes you sick to your stomach.

And in that moment you just wanted to throw your phone against the wall, scream and hide and cry (no, you don’t cry) and get drunk on tequila by yourself, then get on your motorbike and drive until there’s nowhere to go anymore. Maybe, you thought, you’d discover the end of the world. Maybe you’d just find happiness. Maybe you’d finally find peace. (Maybe you’d cry silent tears when no one else would be around for miles and miles. And maybe your tears wouldn’t be as silent as you made it out in your head. Maybe you’d scream all the pain away.)

You came out to your sisters just after you did to your parents. Since you got out of prison, after being wrongly convicted, it was your thing to meet at least once a month at your older sister’s home to catch up. Your sisters’ thing anyway. They started doing it years and years back.

You remember how anxious you were to introduce them to Alicia, still not ready to do it on your own. To sit across your family and let them in on your deepest, darkest secret. You relive how the anxiety rose at the thought of telling them: “I’m bi and this my girlfriend” and when you did just that you instantly felt like running and running and hiding and cutting off contact with everyone and vanishing from the face of the earth. You recall Alicia’s soft fingertips on the back of your hand, softly caressing it in circular motions. Remember the warm embrace of your older sister, how you were pulled close by her and how the pad of a thumb softly wiped a tear away from your cheek. How you were embraced by the familiar smell of being safe.

Sometimes you still regret being such a closed off person but it had always been easier this way.

“There’s no need to cry, Rosalita”, she’d said “it’s okay. It’s all okay”, followed by the confession that their mother already called to tell them and that they got into a fight over it because it was not their mother’s place to go around and tell everyone about your life.

Followed by another hug.

Followed by the admission that you had already come out to her when you were sixteen and had to be picked up from a house party for the first time. You had been drunk and crying all the way home and when you were asked why there were tears streaming down your face all you could say and repeat was “I’m bi and I know it’s wrong but I don’t know how to stop it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” before throwing up on your front lawn and then passing out as soon as you got into your bed.

Your face had gone red instantly because you remembered that night vividly: sneaking off and getting drunk out of your mind because you realized you fell for your best friend. Hard. Her luscious blonde hair and red lips. Her smile. The way she carried herself. You later on found out that she was falling for you as well. But then you graduated and moved to different parts of the country and calling daily became calling once a week became texting became silence. And you remember waking up in your own bed. And then there was the fact that your sister had known for twenty years. And yet never told anyone.

At least you had them on your side.

Your other sister had just been sitting there, observing the scene that was unfolding in front of her. She, too, smiled but she, too, wasn’t as good as dealing with emotions as your older sister.

But them not hating you was enough for you.

You got pulled out of your thoughts by a second text, subsequently realizing that you still hadn’t answered the first one yet.

Por supuesto, tu pareja también está invitada. Además, mamá y papá vienen. Espero que sepas que está bien si aún no estás listo para verla. Sé que ha sido difícil para los dos. Solo sé que ella te quiere mucho. Y yo también. Estoy aquí por ti, hermana. Siempre. (Of course your significant other is invited as well. Also, Mom and Dad are coming. I hope that you know that it’s okay if you're not ready to see her yet. I know it’s been hard for the both of you. Just know that she loves you very much. And so do I. I'm here for you, sister. Forever.)

This time, you answered.

I’ll be there.

And then there was the fact that Amy invited herself to join.

(It definitely didn’t happen like this:

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“I’m-- Okay im going to be honest. If you say something I am going to kill you. I have at least three different weapons on me right now. Not counting the work-issued gun. Understood?”

Amy just nodded, smiling.

“I’m going to my parents’ house. And everyone’s going to be there and it’s my first year since coming out and - I can’t believe I’m going to say this - do you want to come? I know that you’re not going home this year. Or to Jake’s. Of course you don’t have to if-“

“No! Of course I’m gonna come. It’ll be great. I can finally learn about high school you Diaz. Maybe I’ll finally find out about the pink hair situa-“

“Okay no. I changed my mind. You can’t come.”

Amy just shrugged, grinning. “Too late. I’m coming and there’s nothing you can do about it.”)

(Secretly, you are more than thankful for Amy tagging along. It seems dumb to you but you still aren’t ready to face your family alone. And now you have all your sisters on your side.)

That’s how you find yourself in the position you are in right now: sitting in the passenger seat of Amy’s car, riddled with anxiety, seemingly not able to muster up the courage to open the car door. Because once that door is open there’s no going back. If you are looking at all of this realistically you know that your family knows you’re here. They must have spotted you by now.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your hand and when you look up you’re met with Amy’s brown eyes and an encouraging smile. “Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to”, she asks, her voice laced with sincerity and concern.

You contemplate it for a second but then shake your head. “Just-- one more minute.”

Thankfully, Amy doesn’t question you and you resume staring at the door handle in silence. Then, you hear the drivers’ door open, feel the weight of the car shift and hear the drivers’ door close again. And then your side opens and Amy is holding out her hand to you. “Come on. You-- we can do this. I’m right by your side and we can leave at any second, no follow up questions.”

Inhaling deeply, you take your friend’s hand and get pulled out of the vehicle. Instantly, all you want is to return back into the safety of the car. And while one door closes behind you, the front door of your childhood home opens up.

You hear the old wooden door creak open and you hope it’s your mother waiting to greet you like she did every day after school. When the smell of freshly cooked food would greet you from all the way down the street and nothing had been broken (yet). When everything seemed to be more alright. When there were secrets standing in between you. When you thought of your mother’s love as something unconditional, unbreakable but deep down knew that this was just part of your imagination because otherwise you would’ve told her.

You gulp at the realization.

Instead of your mother a boy of maybe thirteen years of age comes barreling towards you.

“Tía Rosa!”, he shouts excitedly before almost crashing into you. You let go of Amy’s hand just in time to catch the boy. “I thought you wouldn’t come. I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

And for the first time since you woke up that day, you smile. “Alex! I’m here now aren’t I?”

“I have so much to tell you-“, he starts rambling while pulling you inside the house, Amy follows closely behind.

Once inside, you are immediately embraced by your father’s strong arms. “I missed you, mija”, he admits and then turns to Amy: “Good to see you again, Amy”, before briefly hugging her as well, directing the next sentences to both of you: “You don’t have to help in the kitchen, come and sit with us in the living room”, while already walking into the general direction of it.

That makes you stop dead in your tracks. “I always help in the kitchen. Why am I not supposed to now?” you observe Oscar freezing in his spot but he doesn’t give you an answer.

And you know it’s because it’s your mother doesn’t want to see you. And the feeling if ‘I shouldn’t have come’ creeps up your throat. You want to scream at him and at her but instead you calmly ask: “Is it because Mamí is in there and she doesn’t want me to help?”

You still don’t get an answer.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Oscar slowly turns around, face in agony. He runs his right hand through his hair. “Listen mija, she still-- hasn’t figured it out. And it’s not that she doesn’t want you in there it’s just--“

“- that she doesn’t want me there. Or here, I suppose. Great. I understand”, you complete his sentence after a few seconds of silence. You turn to Amy. “This was a bad idea. We should go.” You then proceed to walk back to the front door, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. You’re not going to cry here. In front of your father. In front of everybody.

In that moment the kitchen door opens and your older sister steps out. Her head is still turned to the kitchen as she finishes the conversation. “- I know! I’ll be right back!” And when she turns, her eyes are met with yours.

“Ro-Ro!”, she exclaims smiling and it sets something off in you and you feel the tears starting to stream down your face. Your older sister hurries to you to embrace you and you hide your face in her sweater.. “No need to cry”, she jokes and then leans in and whispers “you wanna go outside?”

You nod, face still buried in your sister’s neck.

She then turns to Amy, smiling. “You must be Amy. Would you mind helping in the kitchen?”

You can’t help but chuckle through the tears and imagine that Amy blushes furiously. “I’m really bad in the kitchen so it would be a really bad idea. Everything I touch turns into something inedible. I might accidentally burn the house down in the process”, she explains whole your sister leads you out the door.

“You could still join us in the living room”, Oscar suggests is what you hear before the door closes behind you.

You settle down on the steps of the front porch, neither of you talking. You rest your head on your sister’s shoulder and she lightly tangles her fingers in your curls.

“I’m really glad you came”, your sister admits quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s all going to be alright someday.”

You chuckle bitterly. “Everyone seems to say that. But it really doesn’t look like it. And I’m really scared it never will be again.” Your voice breaks at the last few words. There’s tears streaming down your face again.

After about ten more minutes of silence, your sister gets up from the steps again. “I have to get back to helping. You know how Mamí is. She’ll-- She’ll come around eventually, Ro. Just give her some more time, okay?”

You nod.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to say when you know the things you are promised might just be someone saying something in the spur of the moment. And doesn’t mean it. So you don’t say anything. “Do you want me to bring Amy?”, your sister asks instead. You shake your head.

“I’ll be right in.”

As soon as the front door closes again, you are hit by another wave of sadness and tears. Before all of this happened you never knew you could cry this much in one day. You just want to be alone in your apartment and get drunk and hide under your covers in the dark and reread the text exchange between Alicia and yourself.

Alicia.

You hadn’t thought about your ex-girlfriend in days.

You miss Alicia. Miss the warmth she provided and the arms holding you tight at night when the nightmares of prison were haunting you again. Miss her smooth skin and soft melodic voice. Miss her every time you lay in the bed that now feels too big for one single person. Miss her laugh and waking up next to her. Miss how you could be your true, vulnerable self around her. Miss her

You miss Alicia and your mother. Your mother that’s no ten meters away from you but doesn’t want to see you.

And it hurts.

“Why are crying?”, Alex’s voice suddenly asks. “You’re too badass to cry.” He frowns as if he only realized in that second that he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly was wrong. You wipe the tears off your face in a hurry before being handed a tissue by your nephew.

“Well, everything feels different now,'' you admit without thinking and sigh. “Mamí isn’t talking to me and it’s weird, y’know? I’m not allowed in the kitchen and just being here feels wrong.” There’s a short period of silence, Alex waiting for you to finish. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“You should have because I wanted to see you. I missed you. We all did. Is it because of the fight you had with Grandma?”

You wonder how he knows about this and how he’s so compassionate for his thirteen years of age. How considerate he is. Your sister did a great job raising him, you think. You contemplate if telling him would be the right thing to do but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can come to a decision. “Yeah. Because I told her I am bisexual. Do you know what that means?”

To your surprise, Alex nods in understanding. “Of course I do. Mom explained it all to me when I was like nine”, he tells you as if you should have been aware of him knowing. As if he was stating the obvious. Of course he knows. His mom talked to him about it. You’re both quiet for a moment until Alex adds: “I think I am, too, actually. Bisexual, I mean.”

’Okay, cool cool cool cool cool’, you think. “When did you realize?” You hate being asked this question but it’s the only thing coming to you right now.

“Easy. I was watching Cloak & Dagger and I thought Dagger: hot. Cloak: also hot.”

You have to laugh. “Have you ever seen Saved By The Bell?”, Alex shakes his head. “We definitely have to watch it! You’ll love it.” You didn’t realize how close he’d been all of a sudden until he hugs you tightly.

“You’re the coolest, Rosa. And I’m glad you came even though Grandma isn’t talking to you. I like hanging out with you, you’re like my hero. I mean Mom knows about me maybe being bi but it’s cool to have you to talk to about it. It was cool hanging out with you before already but now it’s even cooler.”

You don’t know what to say so you pull him closer.

Hero. It leaves a bitter aftertaste of responsibility in your mouth. But it's one you’re ready to take on.

It’s quiet between you until Alex mumbles ”I don’t want Grandma to hate me, too.” And you’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear this but you did.

“She doesn’t hate you”, you want to say. “She doesn’t really hate either of us. It’s just hard on her. I get that. It’s always different when it’s your own family.” But you know it’s just a lot of empty words strung together so instead you pull him even closer and say “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. You’ll always have your mother and me though.”

He nods solemnly before asking her “Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”, and you sigh.

“I had. But we broke up last week because she got offered a place to study in London. She left yesterday morning.”

Alex just nods.

You feel the wind touch your skin harshly and you realize that neither of you wears a jacket. After observing the goosebumps for a second you suggest to head inside in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “I’m freezing!”, you add for good measure.

Alex jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you’re immediately embraced by the warmth of the house.

By now you made peace with the idea of having to spend the remainder of the evening with your dad and Amy and your sisters’ husbands and kids in the living room.

What you dont expect when you turn the corner though, is to encounter your mother in the living room, animatedly chatting away with Amy, who is surrounded by the younger children.

It’s the first time you’ve seen her since the futile game of Pictionary, where you had to explain to your parents that being bisexual is a thing because you are it. And then telling you that it’s a phase and you’ll marry a man and have grandchildren with him.

When you dare to step into the living room, everything suddenly quiets down and the tension in the room is palpable. You feel like choking the second you make eye contact with your mother and you’re aware of your heart starting to race and your palms getting sweaty.

And you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mamí”, you force out, your voice laced with pain. “Lo siento. Te extraño. Por favor perdoname.” (Mom, I’m sorry. I miss you. Please forgive me.) You don’t know what she should forgive you for because it should be the other way around, her seeking your forgiveness but all you want is to hear her speak and take you into her arms.

And make peace.

Your mother looks at you and you can clearly see the tears in her eyes. The struggle within herself is visible even across the room.

It looks like she’s trying to go over to you, struggling with herself. Then, without a word, she turns away and disappears back into the kitchen.

You still stand there, petrified in place for what feels like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds. You feel your nephew hugging you tight, feel his pain translate into your body. The ringing in your ears gets louder and you are starting to feel dizzy. And then Amy is grabbing your hand. Your father is trying to apologize to you but you can’t hear him because there’s a ringing in your ears. You can just barely make him out through the blurriness of your view.

Amy leads you to her car and you get in, woodenly, staring ahead into emptiness. You feel Amy reaching over your body to buckle you in and then she’s driving.

And then she’s not.

And then you cry.

You cry and cry and cry while your friend holds your hand and you sit in silence until you’re all cried out. She drives you home and you get drunk on various kinds of liquor together. When Amy reaches her Six-Drink-Potential you tell her about Alicia and how you miss your mother and she tells you about her struggles while you and her fiancé were in prison.

You fall asleep on the living room floor where Jake finds you the next day.

(It takes you almost six months, a particularly gory case that entails the mother of the victim which reminded you so much of the relationship you had to have with your mother and the tenacity of both your best friend and your current girlfriend respectively until you muster up the courage to call your mother and ask her to meet you at the precinct after work.

She agrees.)

#b99fandomevents #b99 2019 fall fic exchange #b99 fall fic exchange #exploding-snapple #b99 fic #rosa diaz #shit ell writes

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