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starlightkun · 9 months

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❧ word count: 1.9k ❧ warnings: cursing lol, oh they DO have cheesy nicknames for each other (pooks/lovey) so if ur gonna be a hater abandon ship now ❧ genre: exes to lovers, drabble sequel to much mistletoeing about nothing, holiday-themed, getting snowed in trope ❧ author’s note: i had a couple more ideas that didn’t really fit in with much mistletoeing about nothing, so here’s an extra little drabble for these two

You held your phone further away from your ear as your sister kept yelling. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”

Sat in front of Kun’s fireplace bundled up in his favorite orange hoodie and a mass of blankets, you listened with a lingering smile on your face to your older sister’s ranting to you over your phone about how her Christmas dinner with your extended family went this year. She was filling you in on all of the family drama, and complaining about all the various older family members who kept trying to grab your baby niece from her arms even after she said no.

“Baby boy missed you, by the way,” she added, referencing her eldest. “He was very concerned about why his Aunt Y/N couldn’t be there.”

Before you could respond, Kun called to you from the kitchen, “Lovey? Want some hot chocolate?”

You grimaced as you realized that you hadn’t given him a heads-up that you were on the phone, hoping that your sister hadn’t heard that.

“Is that Kun?!” She practically screeched, nearly blowing out your speakers. You held your phone further away from your ear as she kept going. “You didn’t tell me that the friend you were shacking up with for the snowstorm was Kun! Y/N, oh my God! Oh my God, Y/N!”

Well aware that you had been got, you covered the mic to look over at Kun, who mouthed an ‘oops! sorry!’ to you. You shook your head to let him know you weren’t mad, and held up a finger in a gesture for him to wait on the hot chocolate while you dealt with this.

“Alright, chill out,” you grumbled at your sister. “Yes, I’m staying with Kun right now…”

“Holy shit! How? When? Are you guys like… back together or is this a lonely-on-the-holidays hook-up thing?”

“Don’t tell Mom and Dad anything yet but… we’re trying again.”

“Oh my God!” She squealed. “For real? Since when? How did you—? Tell me everything!”

“Christ, you’re going to burst my eardrums at this rate... I can’t turn the volume down any more without muting you entirely, you know.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just really excited for you,” she gushed, and the warmth of her voice spread through your chest. “You were just… always so happy around him. And I know you’ve felt a little… untethered the past few years.”

You nodded in agreement even though she couldn’t see it. “Anyway, it turns out he got a job at the same place I’m doing my research. We ran into each other, and had nothing better to do on Christmas, then this freak snowstorm came, and we got to really talking again.”

“You’ve officially made my year, Y/N!” Her bright, infectious smile was audible through the phone. “Anyway, we’re about to go back to Mom and Dad’s for New Year’s, so I have to go.”

“Promise you won’t tell them?” You asked, warning in your tone. “You’ll let me do it? Once we’ve got things a bit more figured out.”

“Fine, fine, I promise! You know I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“Uh-huh. Tell everybody Happy New Year from me, okay?”

“Will do! Happy New Year, Y/N!” She then added even louder, “Happy New Year, Kun!”

“You’re not on speakerphone, dumbass.”

“Oh, boo. Tell him Happy New Year for me, please?”

“Fine, I will,” you sighed. “Happy New Year. Love you, bye.”

“Bye, love you!”

And with that, you hung up. Getting onto your feet, you shuffled into the kitchen where Kun had two steaming mugs on the counter. He offered one out to you, and you took it gratefully. He dropped a couple of marshmallows in the hot chocolate for you.

“Thanks, pooks.” You blew over the surface. “She says Happy New Year, by the way.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were—”

“It’s okay, Kun,” you reassured him. “I didn’t tell you I was on the phone. And you know how she is, she would’ve sleuthed it out eventually by triangulating my signal or something if I hadn’t told her.”

“I haven’t told my family yet either,” he said, then took a sip of his hot chocolate. “I thought it was best that the two of us just sort of… figured everything out first, before inviting in any bothers.”

“And my bothers you mean brothers.”

“That, too.”

You chuckled, taking your first sip of cocoa. “Mm, that’s good. Peppermint?”

“Yeah, Dr. Oh gave us all these gourmet hot chocolate bomb things for Christmas,” he explained, holding his mug out towards you. “Mine’s gingerbread.”

“Ooh.” You swapped mugs to try some of the other’s. “That one’s really good too. I think I like mine better, though.”

“Yeah, mine’s maybe a bit over-the-top on the spices?” He mused, exchanging cups once more.

“I miss your brothers,” you admitted quietly, settling back against the kitchen counter. “They were always so much fun.”

Kun scooted over to loosely loop an arm around your waist, and you leaned against him affectionately. “They miss you too. With Chenle graduating in the spring, he wanted to start brainstorming for his graduation party when I went and visited for Dejun’s birthday. We were looking at pictures from Dejun’s party for some inspiration—he of course needs his to be even better, you know.”

“Oh, of course,” you snickered fondly, already able to imagine it. Chenle was the baby of the family, and he had no shame in using that position to his advantage.

“You were in so many of the photos. And Chenle just kind of got really quiet…”

“That’s not like him.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed solemnly. “He didn’t say anything, I know for my sake, but I think he was having a hard time imagining his graduation without you.”

“Maybe he just felt awkward looking at a bunch of pictures with you that had your ex in them.”

“We were together for five years, Y/N. You made as much of an impact on their lives as mine. You used to help Chenle with all those school projects, and picked him up from school…”

You felt a lump growing in your throat as you sniffled and nodded. “Remember when he ran away from home to our apartment?”

“Yeah, you managed to convince my mom to let him stay with us for a few days— which only worked because she adored you so much, by the way. He was glued to your side the whole time.”

“He just needed a break. Poor kid was so stressed.”

Kun rubbed your back. “You were always so good with him.”

You took another pensive drink of your cocoa. “Do you think… we’ll be okay this time?”

“I have to think so.” He pressed a kiss to your temple absentmindedly. “Do you think we’ll be okay this time?”

“Yeah.” You set your mug down to turn around and wrap your arms around him, burying your face in his neck. He immediately enveloped you in his arms, holding you closely. Your chest twinged at the familiarity. “I think we’ve got it this time.”

“What time do you think it is?” You murmured, hand clasped in Kun’s and head resting on his shoulder as the two of you slowly swayed together in his living room. What had started out as goofy, lighthearted dancing to some of his vinyls had turned into slow-dancing as the album playing right now was more melancholic and heartfelt.

Kun lifted up his watch so both of you could see it. 11:59 p.m. “Almost there…”

Both of you were silent as you watched the seconds count up on the watch face.

12:00 a.m.

“Happy New Year’s, pooks.” You lifted your head up to look him in the eye, a wide grin on your face. "And Happy Birthday."

"Best birthday present I could ask for." He cupped your cheek tenderly, smiling right back at you. “Happy New Year, lovey.”

You brushed his hair from his face before surging forward to close the space between you. Kun was still smiling into the kiss, running a gentle thumb over your cheekbone. At the sound of a phone ringing, he broke away with a groan.

“That’ll be my family,” he sighed, stealing another kiss from you. “I should get that.”

You made the motion of zipping your lips and throwing away the key, and he dropped one last peck to the corner of your mouth before begrudgingly letting you go and walking over to where his phone was buzzing and ringing from the kitchen.

“Hey, Mom! Happy New Year!” He greeted his mother enthusiastically. “Happy New Year, Dad! Yeah, Chenle, I heard you, I was getting to you—Oh my god, Dejun, yes, Happy New Year to you too!”

You couldn’t help but giggle, covering your mouth as you quietly tiptoed over to pick up your empty hot cocoa mugs and start putting them in the sink.

“Oh, lovey, you don’t have to—” Kun was pointing his phone mic away from him as he addressed you, but that obviously did nothing to conceal his words from his entire family on the other end of the line. You heard the familiar catastrophic yells of his little brothers, fully bursting into laughter as Kun’s eyes went wide with realization at what he’d just done. The sounds of your name rang through the speakers clearly, and he mouthed another apology at you.

“It’s fine, pooks,” you chuckled at a normal volume, letting yourself be heard.

Kun winced as he lifted his phone back up to his ear. “Yes, I’m with Y/N right now… No, no, I’m not handing the phone to her. Chenle, I can hear you pouting, stop that. It’s not going to make me—”

You held your hand out to him expectantly.

“Are you sure? You really don’t have to indulge these little demons,” he hissed the last part into the phone, then turned panicked. “No! Of course, I didn’t mean you, Mom, I meant Dejun and Chenle!”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him with another chuckle, motioning for him to hand the device over. Once you had his phone, you put it on speakerphone, sidling up next to him as you greeted his family. “Happy New Year’s, everyone!”

The two boys on the other end erupted into cheers of your name and general yelling in the background, while their mother actually addressed you. “Happy New Year, Y/N. It’s great to hear from you again, sweetheart.”

“It’s really nice to talk to you all again, too,” you told her honestly, as Kun wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“Y/N!” Chenle cut in. “It’s really you?!”

“Yes, LeLe, it’s really me,” you chuckled. “I heard you’re graduating soon, big kid! Congrats.”

“Does this mean you two are back together?!” Dejun was much closer to the phone now.

Kun shook his head at his brother’s words. “Stop it. Y/N doesn’t have to answer that.”

“Oh, something like that,” you answered Dejun anyway with a mischievous, giddy grin.

As the younger sons erupted into celebratory yells in the distance again, you were left to speak only with his parents.

“That’s lovely to hear,” his mother said sweetly.

“Are you well, Y/N?” His dad asked.

After chatting with Kun’s family for a few more minutes, you and Kun gave them your goodbyes before hanging up. You had a lingering smile on your face as you looked over at Kun, cradling his face with both your hands. He raised an inquisitive eyebrow as you just continued looking at him.

“Something on my face?”

“Just looking,” you answered simply. “I’m… really happy right now, Kun.”

That made him smile, too, and he looked down at the floor for a moment before bringing his eyes back up to meet yours. “I’m really happy right now, too, Y/N.”

He leaned in to slot his mouth with yours again, and you hummed delightedly into the kiss.

“Seems like it came true, then.”

It was your turn to regard him with confusion. “What do you mean, pooks?”

“We are having a Happy New Year.”

You let out a couple of incredulous laughs, planting kisses on his dimples between each one. “You sap. My sap.”

“I hope that snowstorm never gets cleared,” he declared, kissing you again.

⤷ 2023 hallmark movie marathon | blog masterlist

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manias-wordcount · 2 years

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hey you !!! thank you!!!!!!

hi guys this is a little late to the party but ummmmm,,,,,,,, thank you so much for 2K followers !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1

(me, lowkey invading the spike spiegel/reader tag on ao3):

life and my household have been very hectic lately, but seeing so many people enjoying my work makes me really happy even when i can hear my sister rant to her boyfriend about me through the walls. anyways

i started writing fanfic a long long time ago (think baby mania era) but ive only started back up right before the pandemic (literally the last week of 2019 whewwww) but its crazy to think that i started this blog back in novemeber 2020 and now have 2K followers !!!!!!

okay scroll past this if you dont care for mania lore bc im just ranting to make myself tired before finally heading to bed BUT

i think i mentioned this a little bit before but everyone, especially my mom, assumes that i've always been a math/science gifted kid (spoiler alert !!!!!!!!!! im not babey !!!!!! never was !!!!!!!!! send help !!!!) so whenever i would write short stories to show her, she'd basically tell me to leave the english stuff to my sister bc i just was not good. jokes on her though !!!!!!!! bc in writing this shit and trying to post as much as i can, i really feel like im proving everyone wrong while honing my skills !!! im also taking a creative writing course at school during my fall semester (unless i drop it oops) so expect better quality work soon !!!!!!!!!!!

i hope.

okay mania lore drop over. maybe you’ll get more later. if promise you it’s both interesting and boring. and not worth your time

BUT I JUST WANT TO SAY AGAIN THANKS YOU GUYS. and this doesnt go to out to just my followers but any and everyone who has read and enjoyed my work!!!!!!! its crazy to think i have people have a silly lil moment over smth i wrote about their favorite set of pixels. im happy you guys are enjoying yourselves and im happy i can make help make your favorite characters reach out to you !!!!!!

OKAY MY BACK PAIN IS BACK MANIA OUT BYE

#manias shitposts #can you guess what my favorite movie is #ill give you one hint

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imagining-in-the-margins · 4 years

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

Summary: Reader lies to Spencer.

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

MASTERLIST

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

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

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

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

“Ahem.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Well, I didn’t,” he growled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, you did.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t worry, I will!” I yelled back.

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

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

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

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

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

It’s you. You’re empty.

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

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

“Hey, are you and Spence leaving already?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright?”

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

So, I was honest… quite possibly too honest.

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

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

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

“Has Spencer ever talked to you about kids?”

The air, still freezing, also fell uncomfortably silent.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was tipsy, but I wasn’t that drunk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I couldn’t remember what it was.

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

Did he think of monsters when he kissed me?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I definitely haven’t forgotten that night.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was okay, until he spoke again.

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

Useful.

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

So why did it hurt?

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

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

I had made a mistake.

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

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

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

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

I was going to be sick.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was going to hate me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Answer me!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Then what are you doing?!”

I don’t know. Please, help me.

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

“Get up, we’re going to the store.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Good luck convincing Spencer of that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at me,” he called gently.

“I don’t want to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That succeeded in getting a response.

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

“I don’t know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was trying to save him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe that’s the fucking point!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I was being selfish. How very much like me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

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

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

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

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

I want to marry you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you so afraid of?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay. So do you, right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you, (y/n).”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at me,” he whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—————————————————

| Part 21 |

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

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allkinds-oftrash · 3 years

Text

Ya girl is watching the latest HSM series ep and Imma live blog it hshshs and will add my reactions under the cut so it doesn't end up a long post. Anyways, let's goo:

AHHHH THE MORNING SHOW WITH GINA AND EJ WE LOVE TO SEE IT

They really said we're gonna let life imitate art with Nini and Olivia huh

Ricky was SUPPORTIVE??? Damnn I really thought we gonna get a classic Ricky tantrum....

But also wow sir that sounds salty and should definitely talk to someone abt how you're feeling...A therapist maybe 👀

I know we needed to contextualise how Ricky felt abt the song but I really wanted to see Nini's interview in full!!

Sebby you're so cute I do wanna see yall do DEH

Shjshshs not the rights not being available for another 5 years 😭😭

I dunno how they're in great shape and closer to the Menkies Gold after not having a single proper rehearsal, but go off Miss Jenn

Omg honestly Kourt's costumes are always amazing and on point Imma excited to see it

Kourt is such a simp we love to see it

Carlos is so pissy this episode we love to see it shshhs

Also love the way Seb calms him down and keeps him nice it's such a funny dynamic

"We had 20 people make our Belle dress over 50 hours" Okay North High shut the fuck up

I'm calling it now the reason North High knows so much is cos Howie is the leak and Kourt has been unwittingly telling him. The way her phone keeps going off as they discuss how North High knows everything is really good foreshadowing if my prediction is right

Also like her phone went off just as Carlos said "How did they know that?" THAT'S PEAK FORESHADOWING

If Howie ain't in North High, I dunno what Tim is doing

GSJAGSHAH KOURTNEY MAKING ABS FOR EJ I CANNOT

"I have abs" We know sweetie

"I PADDED THE THUSH FOR YOU" "AWW THANKS KOURT I NEEDED THAT" THIS INTERACTION IS EVERYTHING THAT WAS SO FUNNY!! I love that it is now canon that EJ has abs but no butt love that for him

Okay but like damn these costumes are great!! North High can fuck right off with its high end ones I just wanna see lowkey homemade costumes by students; I'd watch a Broadway show if I wanted to see professional costumes okay

Damn Carlos has killer eyesight clocking in that mask in the trunk

GINA BBY DON'T SAY THAT AND HAHSGSH NINI NUDGING HER WAS SO FUNNY

Nini's little look over at Gina was like "Omg you guys my girlfriend is so cute and dumb" GINI STANS HOW WE FEELING?

Miss Jenn don't be that naive, your boyfriend probably put them up to it

That Insta page is prophetic with their timing tbh; all the info is a leak obviously looking at your Howie but like the timing of it all. Those kiddos don't know that they are discussing the stolen mask at this exact moment (Kourt has put down her phone after Carlos snapped at her so Howie doesn't know they are talking abt it rn)

"We don't dance with the enemy" *cuts to her dancing with Zackey later*

SEBBY WEARING THE TEACUP COSTUME OMG HE'S GOING MAKE SUCH A CUTE CHIP (yes I am still mad Seb/Joe was robbed but Imma fangirl over the costume anyway)

Wtf why does North High look so expensive - they are literally in the same district as East High right??? How did they get this much funding

North High is a very artsy and rich for a public school; they should have had Nini go here instead of YAC tbh (like this campus feels like what YAC should have been) NOW THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN INTERESTING STORYLINE

Seblos' dynamic IS ON POINT THIS EP I really love my bois so much and their back and forth is hilarious

Shhshs DIANE who loves volleyball and North High okay I totally believe it

WHY ARE RED AND ASHLYN SO KINKY EVERY DAMN EPISODE TIM THESE ARE UNDERAGED CHARACTERS STOP IT

Shshsh we love Gina knowing herself and practicing self control by volunteering to be the lookout

Omg yall listen to Carlos and stfu they are so lucky no one saw or heard them yelling Wildcats

Oh no no no no no Miss Jenn you gonna get sucked in; this is gonna be so messy

Omg I saw someone post about this scene before I watched the ep YALL ARE RIGHT THAT BOI HITTING ON GINA IS SO FINE Babes go for that one, not EJ

NOT THEM FAKE DATING UGH E W TIM STOP MAKING ROMANTIC PORTWELL A T H I N G I honestly do not understand how some of yall can ship it romantically knowing Sofia is a whole underaged babey and Matty is a whole ass grown man - like I get the appeal of the Wonderstudies getting together and they do have chemistry but the irl age gap is creepy and outweighs the appeal of shipping them romantically

As I always say; Portwell/Wonderstudies should be a BROTP not an OTP

Ugh Brotp Portwell would have clocked Lily right away; romantic Portwell making googly eyes at each other isn't helping anyone

Living for Nini getting the recognition she deserves - I really like her solo arc this season she's so much more interesting without Ricky tbh

Aww Kourt you simp I love her and I'm so happy she's happy I wanna be wrong about Howie being a North High kid

Where is the mask??

OHMYGOD THESE KIDS COMING IN LIKE A HORROR MOVIE

Lily really wishes she was Jesse St. James huh; you could never Lily so stop

Andrew Barth Feldman and his cute little French accent I love him so much

Hnng Miss Jenn gonna get manipulated by this hoe. Omg wowow Zackey really is a hoe, making out with another girl before the show THE AUDACITY OF HIM SAYING MISS JENN WASN'T GOOD ENOUGH I WILL THROW HANDS WITH THIS MOFO

Wait the kids didn't steal it BUT WHAT IF ZACKEY DID

Ssjsgfajhdfg I CANNOT WITH ANDREW'S ACCENT but I can't tell if its really bad or really good but I'm also confused why didn't they just cast a French person as Antonie shshhs Antoine is adorableee and a little shit the best type of character

Lily is so annoying b y e sis bye and Olivia Keegan is talented I just wish they didn't make her character such a cartoony villain type

"How about if we bop to the top" SEBBY I LOVE YOU AND NEVER STOP BEING SO CUTE I SWEAR and Awww Carlos called him Honey I am s o f t

Hnng why do these fools are really gonna give into North High calling them chickens

OHHH NO SHE DIDN'T JUST SAY THAT ABOUT ASHLYN FUCK A DANCE OFF I AM ABOUT TO THROW HANDS WITH A 16 YEAR OLD

"She told us not to dance with the enemy. She's better than this" No Sebby, she's not *cuts to her dancing with Zackey* AND OMG THE WAY I SAW THIS EDIT COMING BEFORE IT CAME

Ooooh I like this song wayyy more whatever the mess The Mob Song became (when I first heard it drop on Spotify yesterday) Around You is such a great song musically and lyrically very relevant to these two and gosh I love their voices together

They have so much chemistry damn, go home Mike (well he technically has oop) and Mr. Mazzara

YES YOU DO MISS JENN YOU ALWAYS HAD IT

Oh god this is the scene from the trailer; she's gonna make a move on Ricky isn't she?? Leave him alone Lily he doesn't need a 3rd girl to be confused about he needs a therapist

Lily shut the fuck up with quasi; STOP TRYING TO MAKE QUASI HAPPEN

"I love Nini's song" Sure, Jan.

...Okay yes you should have called him out but don't bait him LIKE THAT oop there's the scene from the trailer

Ohmygod is Andrew Barth Feldman gonna hit on Ashlyn

Okay this is so cute but also I am VERY annoyed with the way this show handles its characters like they aren't relevant or important unless they get into a relationship or a love triangle?? That's such a shitty way to give out screentime and arcs to characters. Is it not enough to develop the characters on their own and strengthen their friendship???

HUH TIM why you so obsessed with compulsory heterosexuality??(well also homosexuality for Seblos but they are the only ones I'm not annoyed with their relationship cos its a hella big step for Disney to have a gay couple and their relationship isn't in our faces or overshadows the plot and its just spinkles of cuteness every time they interact - they are honestly who Rini wishes they were; besties in love. They are a couple that Tim should be taking notes from; leave the relationship drama in the background, focus on the theatre and friendship aspect of everything)

My mini rant aside; this is a very adorable interaction between Ashlyn and Antoine.

"TOM HOLLAND ON STILTS" GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT COMPARISON I AM SCREAMING ANTOINE THAT'S SO FUNNY

This is so funny he keeps picking out the hottest guys of the group; as if he himself isn't the French version of Big Red they look super alike ngl shshsh

WHY YOU RUIN IT WITH THAT ANTOINE I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU

Drama between Antoine and Red is already spicing up shshsh I cannot

Why are you so dramatic with the shuffle Lily gtfo of here...also this doesn't make sense?? She wasn't even on a BATB playlist; what if a non BATB song came on ahahah

Good to know they aren't big fans of The Mob Song like I am Awww EJ you cutie, okay I will appreciate the OG Mob Song just for you

OH WAIT HE PROLLY LIKES IT COS ITS A GASTON LED SONG TIM GIMME THE EJ SOLO I DESERVE IN THIS NUMBER

I'm being robbed of Gaston for the last 7 eps I at least deserve an EJ solo for compensation

The way the set looks straight out of Broadway but also like omg the blue lighting and fancy stage gave me intense flashbacks to that Glee episode where Vocal Adrenaline sang Bohemian Rhapsody

RICKY STOP BEING SALTY AND ACTUALLY COMMUNICATE WITH YOUR GIRLFRIEND LIKE A NORMAL PERSON

OMG THE SUBTITLES SAID ITS HOWIE SINGING AS THE BEAST I FUCKING CALLED IT

Howie you hoe you gonna break my girl Kourtney's heart

Yeah...still not a fan of Antoine's Dance Remix

Yall know Gina would kill the dance number if she wasn't wearing that fit

Okay but it's Gaston led song WHY DOES EVERYONE BUT EJ HAVE A SOLO IN THIS SONG??

First the Beasts led it (Howie sounded better than Ricky ngl), then the Lumieres (their voices worked hella well together; I always forget what a talented singer Frankie is THEY NEED TO GIVE HIM A SOLO SONG) and now the Belles are going at it (Ashlyn's voice is superior)

BIG RED BEING JEALOUS AND SALTY IS SO FUNNY ITS LIKE A PUPPY BEING ANGRY I CRI

...Did anyone really win, Lily??? STFU

CARLOS IS RIGHT AND HE SHOULD SAY IT

Oooh I did see someone talk about this when the Rose Song dropped last week, apparently its illegal to add songs to a musical you're doing for a school play; I really thought the show would brush past that irl rule but I guess they are playing into it

THE WAY EVERYONE TURNED TO EJ FOR THE SPORTS METAPHOR I AM D Y I N G AND HIS FACE WAS GOLDEN! ITS LIKE THAT LISA SIMPSON MEME SHHSHSH

Okay Nini is being a little pissy about leaving her song out of the show and its a little selfish to wanna keep it at the risk of being disqualified but I also understand why she's hurt

Everyone is dog piling on her right now being against her idea and it feels like they are being against her song and her herself instead of them not wanting to be disqualified. Also like she poured her heart and soul into the song after Miss Jenn lowkey rushed her to write it. So I can see why this feels like a rejection of her and her song and why she's so hurt rather than her seeing the big picture right now

It doesn't help that Ricky said the final blow causing her to walk off

Okay maybe Zackey gets some rights for being chill and wanting the kids to be peers

THIS MOTHERFUCKER I KNEW HE WAS SHADY Also the way I gasped even though I predicted he stole the mask halfway through this ep shshsh

Stab him Miss Jenn STAB HIM

Bitch why you so threatened by East High if yall have such a Broadway-esque show planned??? They honestly should have stuck to the Little Mermaid; I really wanted to see the aquarium

"It's just a song Ricky" "A song can mean everything" Do you get deja vu? Anyone else getting intense flashbacks to Jan when DL first dropped and all the drama happened 👀

YES PLEASE STAY CO ANCHORS Gosh I love them so much esp once you take the romantic connotations out of their interactions

ROUGE GRAND I'M SCREAMING

I love this long take of checking in with everyone's relationship status (still hate how romantically focused this show has become but still a cool shot)

I K N E W IT I WAS RIGHT

Okay but like looking at Kourtney's face I have never wanted to be wrong so bad GOD I HATE IT HERE I really think he likes her and I hope they work it out

Nini setting up her own music acc feels like when Olivia rebranded her whole IG to be just for her music stuff - love this for both of them

AHHHHH SHE'S NINA NOW YALL

I know everyone loves her as Nini but like I have always loved the name Nina and it really suits her to be honest also shows how she's growing up now and kind of leans into the lyric "I won't be confined to your point of view" from The Rose Song because Nini is the nickname Ricky gave her so it shows that she's outgrowing him too and I love that for her!

Overall thoughts; they really crammed all the North High drama into one ep huh. Personally would have liked it if all of this was spread out throughout the last few episodes; like different hijinks for every episode. I'm just a big fan of properly setting up the overall arc over the season instead of patching it together closer to the climax/end of the show. Cos now it lowkey feels like two different seasons - 2A felt like The Rini/Rina Show esp with YAC storyline and whatever was going on with Rina and now 2B is finally feeling like what this season should have been all this time

#hsmtmts season 2 #hsmtmts #hsmtmts spoilers #nina salazar roberts #gina porter #EJ Caswell #Ricky Bowen #Kourtney Green #Ashlyn Caswell #Seb Matthew Smith #carlos rodriguez #Big Red

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frogs-spawn · 3 years

Text

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

#remus lupin #hope lupin #lyall lupin #fenrir greyback #young remus lupin #marauders era #marauders fic #hp fic #cait has actually written something #(don't worry i'm as surprised as you are)#sorry this is quite sad

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lyssismagical · 4 years

Note

Harley being worried when peter’s on patrol? with angst and fluff? 🥺🥺 thank you

This is mostly just fluff oops

Harley knew what he was signing up for when he started seeing Peter. The worry, the anxiety, the late nights waiting up for him, it was all inevitable. Peter said that he was never going to give up Spider-Man, it was always going to be there.

And Harley wasn’t mad, per se. He didn’t want Peter to have to give up something he loves doing just for Harley’s peace of mind.

He was okay with it.

But then they moved in together and got engaged a few months later, and it started hurting a little bit more to kiss his fiancé goodbye every night, no idea if it would be the last time.

Harley stays quiet about all his fears, about losing Peter so soon in life, about how he can’t sleep without knowing Peter made it home safe. But being quiet about something that affects him so much isn’t the best idea because it leads to the worst fight they’ve ever had.

It always sucks because whenever they fight, Peter cries, and that’s the last thing Harley ever wants to cause.

After that fight – which ended with Peter staying at MJ’s house for four days before they reconciled and he came home – they finally come up with a schedule to quell Harley’s anxiety as much as possible but without hurting Peter’s Spider-Manning.

But it still sucks.

“Please, sweetheart, just one night?” Harley says, trying to pull the sweetest expression he can.

Peter smiles softly through the mirror. His suit is in his hands, ready to change and leave through the window, but he’s hesitating.

“You know I can’t miss a night, Harls. I’ll be home at one, just like promised.” Peter rakes a hand through his damp hair from showering, and sighs. “I’ll take Sunday off, alright? We’ll go out to that new restaurant you’ve been talking about and maybe, if we’re not super tired, we can see if we can catch a performance on Broadway?”

Despite knowing that it won’t happen, Harley nods anyways. Peter does that a lot, he makes plans for date night or trips, but he always backs out at the last second for Spider-Man or for a work-related crisis.

Peter’s face softens even more, walking into their bedroom to press a kiss to Harley’s forehead. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t easy for you, but I promise, this time, I’ll be there for Sunday, and for Thanksgiving at Tony’s, I’ll be there.”

“I worry.” It’s not anything new, Harley’s always worrying about Peter. Back when they were stupid teenagers dating online, Harley always felt unbelievably helpless whenever Peter got hurt. Harley was all the way in Tennessee and there was nothing he could do whenever Peter needed help or was in the hospital for weeks following a mission.

“I know you do.”

Early in their relationship, Harley would’ve gotten upset that there was no apology. There was no promise for a solution to Harley’s worrying. Now, Harley knows better. This is just the way it is, the way it has to be.

Harley leans up to kiss Peter. It’s not a goodbye, he tries to tell himself, not necessarily. But it could be. That’s the part that never stops hurting. That any one of these days where he kisses Peter goodbye, it could be goodbye forever.

“I love you.”

“I’m going to be fine,” Peter says. And he will be, Harley knows that. He’s been fine the past four years Harley’s let him go out there. “But I love you too. And I won’t bother telling you not to wait up because I know you will no matter what I say.”

Peter slips his suit on, presses the spider in the center, and cups Harley’s cheek before he puts his mask on. “We’re okay?”

He asks it the same way Harley says I Love You. Just in case.

“We’re good. But I’m holding you to bringing me to a Broadway show and taking me to dinner on Sunday. And next week we’re into the next phase of wedding planning, so you better not ditch me with choosing flowers.”

“I’ll be there.”

* When one in the morning passes, Harley tries not to panic.

Just because they have an agreement that Peter will be home at one, doesn’t mean he follows it too strictly, but he always texts to let Harley know when he’ll be home.

This time, there’s no text.

“I’m sure he’s fine.” His sister sounds exasperated like she always does whenever he calls at the late hours of the night. The only upside to calling her over other family and friends is that she lives on the west coast for school, so her time zone matches up nicely to the times he needs her.

“It’s been an hour and he didn’t text.”

She sighs and he can practically hear her rolling her eyes. “I know but don’t you think you would’ve seen something on the news by now if he’d been hurt? You have the news on, don’t you?”

“I hate that you’re right.” He finally stops in the middle of the living room, hours of pacing making his feet ache. He’s shivering, cold air pouring through the open window Peter will slip through eventually, even Peter’s thick sweater wrapped around him isn’t enough to combat the cold. “I also hate worrying every night about my stupid superhero fiancé.”

She sighs again, a little less dramatically this time. “I obviously don’t know what it’s like to be in your position, but you have to put more trust in him. Before, he was willing to be as selfless as imaginable, like his life didn’t have meaning compared to others, but now, don’t you think he’s keeping himself safe because he has you to come home to? He has a wedding to plan? He has a whole future with you to worry about?”

“I know. And I do trust him. I just worry.” He sits down on the couch, muting the news, and stops looking at the open window. “Sorry for calling you.”

“It’s nice to hear from you occasionally, even if it’s just to rant about Peter,” she says, laughter on her voice. “Oh, and I need you to pick a date for the wedding, so I can book my ticket home soon! Alright, my job here’s done, so I’ll talk to you soon, Harley. Love you. Say hi to Morgan for me. Bye!”

Before Harley has a chance to answer, she hangs up the phone. He laughs quietly in the empty stillness of the apartment, and shakes his head.

He’s about to call Peter, ask him if everything’s okay, when he gets a text.

Sorry I’m late. Be home in a bit. Got caught up. Love you.

He grabs the blanket from the back of the couch, wraps it tight around him, and switches the channel to put on a TV show.

It might not be the way he wants things to be, it’s not the dream life he always thought he’d have. He hates how much worry builds the longer Peter’s gone, but Peter, even if it’s not in his control, will try with everything he has to come to Harley every night. And that’s enough.

* He’s mostly asleep by the time Peter slides gracefully through the open window.

“Aw, honey, you didn’t have to wait up,” Peter murmurs softly. He’s got a bouquet of white and red tulips in his hands, a little damp from the light rain, but it’s the thought that counts.

From the vague flower knowledge Harley has, he’s pretty sure it means I’m sorry and I love you.

“Was worried,” Harley admits. His shoulders have finally relaxed and he’s having trouble keeping his eyes open now that he knows Peter’s safe and home. “You didn’t text.”

Peter bends down to press a kiss to Harley’s forehead, brushing back his messy curls softly. “I know. I’m sorry. There was a home invasion a few blocks from here and their kids were Spider-Man fans so I stuck around to make sure everything was okay. I didn’t realize how much time had passed.”

Harley can barely help the sleepy, dopey smile that crosses his face. “Love you.”

“I love you too, honey. I promise I’ll be here for Sunday and all next week if you need me. For now, let’s get you up to bed, yeah?”

When Peter reaches down a hand to help Harley to his feet, Harley uses the momentum to instead tug Peter down onto the couch with him. It’s not entirely comfortable, they don’t have the money for nice things when they’re planning for a wedding and a honeymoon on their sad salaries, but Peter’s there, against his chest, warm and laughing.

The flowers are abandoned on the floor, neither of them really have the green thumbs to keep them alive anyways, and Peter presses the spider on his chest to toss off his dirty suit, the smell of smoke and blood still clinging to him.

“You’re lucky I love you,” he says, pulling the blanket more securely around them.

Harley grins unashamedly and kisses Peter’s cheek. “Night, darlin’. Love you too.”

“Goodnight, Harls.”

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @pj-hermes-tonystark-obsessed @you-get-killed-walk-it-off @kitkatwinchester @emo-girl10 @justme--emily @hold-our-destiny @imalivebecauseirondad @spiderman-peterman @dykeragee @maryserrao

#lyss answers #lyss writes #parkner #peter parker #harley keener #parkner fic #sorry about the lack of writing lately and how long this took to write #just haven't been feeling it lately #but this helped

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livingincolorsagain · 3 years

Note

the only times i wish rarry was canon is when i get extremely frustrated i cant find any fics on them...or im just in a 'i hate you drarry' mood. ok im always in that mood, i like to go shout about how much i hate oatmeal to my brother when i see drarry stuff because it's IMPLYING HARRY WOULD CHOOSE FERRET OVER hIS WHEEZY????? oh wait this isnt supposed to be a rant oops

joanne kinda unintentionally making her characters not-straight like I always found harry's descriptions of cedric suspicious 'OKAY i get it he's handsome' and I wasn't even that into lgbt stuff then (not that I didn't respect it- but like i only knew three sexualities-). then there's ron offering viktor krum his bed?? straight! ok :)

are you not rly into romione 'cos of the way it was written? i used to love it but the way hermione treated ron in a tsundere-ish kinda way in canon turned me off. and then in a lot of fics i've read it kind of implied 'roN is a bAd baD boYfriEnd whO foRgeTs hiS giRLfwenDs biRthdAy and thEir AnniVersarY' EVEN in hinny stories where it's a side pairing like shushadjosa stop :(( ron would be best boy and you know it and that's why im a fangirl for him

oh that was even more incoherent than yours. oops? now im gonna go try to send you only ONE prompt out of all the prompts in those three lists you reblogged (ill probably fail) and then im gonna send the person who wrote your eye-opening rarry fic flowers. bye

look that’s valid but ive read canon pairings and seen how they write my boy and yeah. so glad it’s not canon. also yes to hating drarry all my homies hate drarry. pls rant away im all ears.

harry and ron are disastrous bi and i love them for it. yes go kings. (straight. so straight. right. yeah)

didn’t like their dynamic at all. i LOVE best friends to lovers, but they’re not it for me. the fact that i don’t really like hermione either doesn’t help. i do love writing her, but i really didn’t like her in the books. i remember reading ootp and being like, yup, no. i don’t like her AT ALL. and yes, ron is the best boy and i don’t read romione fics because i hate how he’s written. i don’t know why, maybe because of the movies, but i noticed how in some canon pairings fics, ron’s characteristics are… yikes. a big no.

don’t worry about incoherent. look at the rant above. kinda feel bad for you but. im so glad you failed. now it’s time to write some rarry. hopefully i get flowers too. (LOOK. it was years ago and i lost all the rarry fics from fanfiction and i do not have the mental stability to go searching for rarry fics in that hellsite so. anyway. guess they’re lost forever.)

#acciorxses #asks

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eitelle · 4 years

Note

hi!! this is where the matchups are i think??? haikyuu pls!!

i’m 5’8, im an intp and a gemini, i really like astrology and i play the guitar and stuff like that :3 my style is pretty good i would say and i put effort in my looks lol, i watch a lot of youtube and play minecraft a lot and listen to music an excessive amount 😭😭 i like anime too haha, i literally only hang out with like 2 people because anyone i’m not comfortable with i’m rlly shy around and i don’t talk much in social situations especially with people i don’t know, i like to sleep a lot and i’m pretty lazy ngl hahshdhdh

that’s pretty much it sorry if i did this wrong oops tysm! <3333

HIHI U DID THIS COMPLETLY RIGHT TY FOR THE SUBMISSION!! wait damn i cant spell. and i call myself a writer 😞🤚 ANYWAYS ARE WE THE SAME MF PERSON??/):$36:$;7 except im 5’4.5 and im an enfp BUT STILL

lemme just kin assign u kenma rq 🙄🤚 basically that means marry me

lemme just match you up with: BOKUTO KŌTARO 🥰

baby is so cute and he will crack u out of ur shell 🤤 BYE I HATE THAT EMOJI SM I CANT

anyways some hcs:

so basically if ur in the dream smp he will watch the WHOLE THING

will he understand any of it? hell no

will he have kins and also become obsessed and simp for wilbur and quackity? hell yeah

u will change his bio on social media to “him/himbo” BYE

akaashi and u are besties i dknt make the rules

tempted to say suna but u and bo would have just cuddle dates

he woukd spoon you and yall would just cuddle and he would rant ab his day while u relaxed

he would play w ur hair

he loves it when u play with his hair tho

wtf is this spotify ad

OK SORRY ANYWAYS

will have random arguments or be like “what is the dip of ur calf called?” “isnt white just light black and black is dark white?”

both of yall are ruled by mercury so,,,, match made in heaven

you guys are people who get lost sometimes but no matter what you always find each other

like how the ocean will always wash something up, or how i always shit what i eat out

OK HOW DO I DO THAT. HOW DO I JUST BE SO POETIC AND THEN SAY THAT. PLEASE. HELP.

u make playlists for yall and he has a little jar of every one youve made that youve shown him and of his fav songs from them

IMAGINE YIME 😁😁

imagine:

another day, another 12 hours in bed. maybe 8 today because dinner downstairs actually sounds good for once. but all of that was ruined when u hear footsteps OUTSIDE YOUR FRONT DOOR. you literally hear huge ass thumping, probably jumping. and these arent just small cute ones; no theyre large and booming.

“HEY HEY HEYYYYYY,” you hear as your front door is ripped open. you sigh with a smile on your face and get out of bed to go greet your boyfriend. knowing how empathetic he can get you become happy just at the sight of him.

he opens his arms wide and brings you in for a hug, lifting you ip and carrying you while talking about the sights he saw on his run here. as you both end ip in ur room, you lay down on top of his chest listening and laughing at his imagination and perceptiveness.

“anyways, its such a nice saturday morning.” he says, meanibg for it to be an offhanded comment but he doesnt notice your tensing up at his comment.

“saturday? ko its tuesday,” you say turning to look ay him with a questioning stare.

“SHIT ITS TUESDAY? AKAASHIS GONNA KILL ME!” he yells as he leaps up. as he gives you a peck on your cheek he leaps down your stairs and runs to the fukurodani gym.

ARTBREEDER!!!!!!

texts now 😋😋

I HOPE U LIKED!!!

#michelles 60 follower matchup event

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thewritingstar · 5 years

Text

ROCK’in around the Christmas Tree-Secret Santa Gift

so for the Secret Santa (on one of the servers lol) I got the lovely @michiamotippete !!!!!!!!

I whipped up a little Kiribaku holiday fluff (and minor steam) for you and I hope you enjoy this and Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

For the @kuroshironekoserver event!!!

---

The cool cold air had taken Japan over during the winter months. Decorations for the beloved holidays had covered their city and everyone was rushing to finish their holiday shopping as Christmas day approached.

Kirishima found himself inside the mall along side Mina and Sero. It was rare for them to have free time together since being a pro hero meant being on duty for most of their time. Of course Kirishima wanted all his presents to have meaning, but he desperately needed to find one for his boyfriend.

Believe it or not, Bakugou was hard to shop for. He went ahead and let everyone else give him All Might merch and shirts but he didn’t want to fall under that category. Though he did buy themselves matching Ground Zero and Red Riot items because he knew he secretly loved flaunting his own stuff and not so secretly wearing his boyfriends.

But he still need the gift. Ya know the big present that you save for last, the one that makes next year's presents even harder because you have to outdo yourself? The gift that makes the person receive it blush slightly as they try their best not to cry. The gift to end all gifts and makes you wanna spend the rest of your life wrapped in their arms? Yeah that.

Easy peasy ...right?

“I don’t know why you’re worried bro, just sit naked on the bed and tie yourself up, he’ll like that.” Sero said and the heat rose to Kirishima's face before pushing him to the side.

“Just because that's all you’re doing for Denki, doesn’t mean that will work for me.” Kiri quickly said and the boys went back and forth teasing before Mina complained about her shortage of caffeine, making them stop and get some coffee.

“I still don’t know.”

“Get him a rock.” Mina said.

“I am not giving Bakugou a rock.” He stated and shook his head as he downed his coffee.

“Well i'm out of ideas.” Mina shrugged and pulled them into another store.

“Gee you’re so helpful.” Kiri shot back sarcastically.

They trio ended up leaving the mall a few hours later. Each of their arms carried a few bags but even out of all the gifts, not a single one was for Kirishima's beloved boyfriend.

“Don’t pout hun. I’m sure the perfect idea will come to you! You still have a week or two left. He’ll love anything you give him because he loves you.” Mina smiled as she kissed both of their cheeks good bye and hopped off the train with Sero as their stop was before Kirishimas.

“Thanks Mina. See you all soon.” He waved goodbye and before long, he was departing the train as well.

---

“What's with that face?” Bakugou asked as he stared intently at Kirishima.

The red head broke from his daze as he refocused his attention on his explosive boyfriend who was currently ranting about being forced to work with Deku for the third time this month.

“Oh uh nothing babe, sorry, just tired I guess.” He shrugged it off but it didn’t seem to get past Bakugou. The blonde let it slide for now as he finished up his homemade curry and brought his plate to the sink just as Kirhsima followed.

Kirhsima could feel that Bakugou was holding back from asking about his bluff so he did the only thing he knew to distract him, he poked his side.

A sinister smirk grew on the red heads face as he saw Bakugou's hand tightened on the sponge and the signature scowl appear.

“Ei.” He said with a dangerous warning but Kirishima was already gone with his playful mind and poked him again causing the blonde the drop the plate and drag him off to their room neglecting the dirty dishes. All Kiri could do was laugh as he was tossed onto the bed.

“Don’t test me.” Bakugou snarled but it wasn’t meant as a threat but more...loving.

Pushing his limits, Kirishima sat up tapped Bakugou's nose.

“Oops, hope I don't end up on the naughty list this year.” He winked before he was met with a deadly smirk and crimson red eyes.

“Guess we’ll find out.” Bakugou let out a dark laugh.

---

The next week came faster than the winter breeze and Kirishima still had not found the gift. He spent the morning going on a solo run as Bakugou was called into work early and he had a few hours until his own patrol started.

His mind was racing for ideas but all the good ones had been taken. Two years ago he gave them matching promise rings, a thick black band and Baugous had an orange accent while his had red. The year before that was a photo album and poems he had written about him during their years at U.A and even the year before that he had creative gifts.

But this one was big. It was their second year as pro heros and their fifth year officially together, though Mina likes to joke that they had been dating since that day they competed together in the sports festival. Somehow, he believed her.

But now his thoughts went back to what Mina had said at the mall and a small smile came to his face. He checked his calendar and saw that he had three days until Christmas, enough time. He smiled as he popped his headphones back in and began to jog off his designated path and towards the perfect gift.

---

The sun peered through the curtains as it stirred Kirishima awake. His arms tightened around the waist of his boyfriend and he nuzzled his nose deeper between the crook of the blondes neck.

“Merry Christmas.” Kirishima sleepily slurred in Bakugou's ear and he was met with crimson eyes as Bakugou had turned in his arms.

“Merry Christmas.” He repeated softly and planted a sweet and gentle kiss to Kirishima's lips.

They had agreed to open their gifts once they woke up but five minutes later and Kirishima was back asleep with Bakugou following close behind. They luckily had the day off and decided that maybe sleeping in was the true gift, even if Bakugou protested a little.

By the time they decided to open up their personal gifts, the sun had started to set and they were in front of the fireplace. The smaller gifts came first which consisted of hero merch, a new apron for Bakugou, new weights for Kirishima and a whole bunch of smaller items. Their living room floor looked of that of a five year old on Christmas day, paper everywhere.

Bakugou wanted to give his final gift last and Kirishima nodded before handing over a small box to the blonde.

“Now before you open this, I am aware of what is inside.” Kiri stated.

“Well I fucking hope so.” Bakugou let out a laugh before tearing the wrapping paper off.

He revealed a wooden box and cracked open the box.

Kirishima waited anxiously for his reaction.

First the blonde furrowed his eyebrows. Then he tilted the box slightly. His eyes darted back and forth between the box and the paper.

“Um.” He said. “Rocks?”

“Yep!” Kiri smiled and Bakguous lips tightened into a thin line before setting it down.

“Thank you?” He tried to be polite but Kirishima's laugh sounded through the room.

“Let me explain.”

“Please do.”

Kirishima scooted closer to him on his knees and picked up the first rock.

“When I was thinking of what to get you, I was lost. I mean what do you get the most important person when they already have everything?”

Bakugou hummed. “I am important.”

Kirishima playfully rolled his eyes before continuing. “Well I thought back to every important and meaningful moment of my life, and you were always there. So I went back to every place that meant something to use and collected these.” he gestured to the rocks.

“I know it's lame and doesn't make sense but I worship the ground you walk on, so I thought if we could have a tangible piece of our journey, it would be worth something. So this one, it's from the field of the sports festival. Of course it's not the same rocks as before since you destroyed most of the field anyways but it was the first time you trusted me to help you, the first time you noticed me.”

Bakugou stared at the other rocks in the box. He noticed that they now had small slips of paper attached and what they represented.

“The beach with our first kiss. The campsite with the stars. The cliff where you said you loved me for the first time. It's all here.” Bakugou said as he took them one by one in his hands. The precious memories he loved came flooding back.

“I thought that maybe we could start a little rock collection.” Kirishima chuckled. “Maybe when we travel or something.”

Bakugou sat silently observing them all.

“ I mean if you don;t like it that's okay too. I guess getting rocks isn't that great-”

“I love it.” Bakugou stated. His eyes met Kirishimas and he could see the truth in his eyes clear as day. “These mean alot to me. Makes me think about how lucky I am to even receive these.”

Kirishima smiled and scooted closer for their noses to touch. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Bakugou said and pecked his lips. “Now it's my turn.”

He stood and left Kirishima, grabbing a wrapped box on the mantle. “It's funny. The whole rock thing.” He came back to where he was and sat down before handing the gift to Kirishima. “We had the same idea.”

“You got me a rock too?!” Kirishima sounded a bit more excited than what it should have been.

“Sort of, just fucking open it.” Naugou smiled and watched as his boyfriend torn the paper.

“Kat-”

“Not that its a competition, but my rock is much better.” Bakugou said with a smug smile as he watches his boyfriend's shoulders tightened back

Kirishima sat as all thoughts left his mind. The instant the lid open, tears weighted in his eyes. He was focused on the perfect diamond sitting in the velvet ring box that he almost missed Bakugou's proposal

“So Eijirou Kirishima, will you do me the honor and accept this rock and me as yours forever?” Baugou asked.

In less than a second, Bakugou was laying on his back as Kirishima had literally bulldozed him to the ground and was practically straddling him. His face became wet with sloppy kisses and he could feel the tears dripping down his face.

“Yes Katsuki, a thousand times yes.” Kirishima said breathlessly. “I love you so much.” He cried.

“I love you too.” Bakugou responded by tightening his arms around him. He then let out a laugh as Kirihsima was busy looking at the ring on his finger, holding it up like a chick would in a Hollywood film. He just watched from underneath him thinking about how fucking lucky he was to be eventually wed to the kindest and hottest man alive.

The rest of the evening was spent with them huddle in front of the fireplace talking about the different memories of the rocks and their plans for the future. Katsuki discovered that Eijirou secretly had a wedding all planned out on pintrest and kept waving his hands in his face since he couldn't keep his eye off the ring.

“Merry Christmas baby.” Katsuki kissed his cheek and pulled him even closer.

“Merry Christmas.”

----

“So what did Bakugou give you?” Mina asked them as they all sat outside for coffee the next day.

Kirishima and Bakugou looked at each other before he held up his hand.

“A rock.”

Mina stared at the shiny ring and practically shattered the glass behind them. “OH MY GOSH CONGRATULATIONS YOU TWO!!!” She cheered and almost let her tears fall from the overwhelming joy of seeing her best friends finally getting engaged. “That's amazing and Bakugou what did your fiance give you?” She asked and Kirishima’s face rose to a pretty shade of red.

“Rocks.”

“Oh you also proposed?” She got excited again.

“No, like literal fucking rocks.”

Her eyes snapped to Kirishima. “Kiri, love, that was a joke.”

“They are special rocks that hold are memories, shut up!” He looked away but Bakugou kissed his hand.

“I liked them.” Bakugou shrugged.

“Bakugou baby i am so sorry.” Mina laughed. “But anyways. I'm the maid of honor right? Cause if im not, you won't have a wedding and that's a promise.” She threatened with a smile.

“Of course Mina!” Kirishima smiled.

“Okay good!” She giggled. “Now show me that pretty rock again.”

----

I hope you enjoyed this!!! This was super fun to do!!

#kiribaku #kiribaku oneshot #bakugou x kirishima #secret santa #my hero academia #my hero fanfiction #soft boys who love each other very much #thewritingstar

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shiro-0197 · 4 years

Note

Omg they sound really good! I'm glad you guys got to bake :D I saw Kuro's cookies, 😝😝 they're cute. I'm sure yours tastes and looks really good too!! Send me pictures when you bake next time :D makes me wanna bake too tbh 😭😭 I should quickly bake some brownies before New year's. CINNAMON. CINNAMON IS BAE. I carry a stick of cinammon in my pocket everywhere because the smell calms me down so much ‼️‼️‼️ (anyways, due to the added cinammon, I now deem your cookies AMAZING. even if they don't have choco chips >:)

oh noes I hope you get better chairs next year 😔😔 it's no fun to constantly fidget when you're sitting. Added pain, I swear. I usually just lean back on my chair so much, I'm constantly on the verge of falling. Because Angel sits behind me :D she's always asking me to be more careful skdjsksk 😷

Aw you're right, those do bring problems of their own. I hope to be unlike those doctors, in the future. And when I am, you can bet I'm gonna prescribe you the right stuff 😾😾💖

you're so precious, I wish you all the best !! Your mom sounds so cool and badass, and I'm sure she'll look wonderful riding a motorbike in the future :D

AYO‼️‼️‼️😭😭 WHAT THE HECK ❓❓❓❓‼️ I'm sobbing that image is so cursed, I've never seen it xD but yeah Pinterest is a weird place, tho it has good stuff, occasionally.

the cat was staring at you cuz it thought you were cute, I just know it 😾💖 (unrelated but we find animals cute? That surely means they find us cute too, right?) but yeah, when they have big eyes, they just look like puss in boots, and that's just so precious skkssks 😭💖 I want a cat so badly rn 😾😾

ah I see!! I've googled it :D it looks really good, anything with meat is good😍😍 (I'd be a horrible vegetarian. Oops.) Tho I also googled the cuisine there and it all looks really nice!! I noticed that you guys mostly have stuff with dough and bread, or is that just Google messing with me??😭😭 We have Absolutely nothing with dough here tbh. We use a lot of rice, and a lot of noodles :D and curries. Loads of those.

Awww I hope you do sometime too. Just let loose and sing!! You'll feel so much more relaxed afterwards >.<

I'm so annoyed rn tho my leo coordinator just messaged me, saying we have a president's meeting 😃🔫

LIKE WTF WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT 😭😭😭 WHY WHY WHY I PLANNED ON SLEEPING IN ON THE FIRST DAY OF THE NEW YEAR !! OR SPENDING TIME WITH MY FAMILY?? GRR 😾😾😾😾 now I'm gonna have to wake up at nine, join the meeting, and pretend to be awake. sorry for ranting tho :(

Yes I owe you a three hour long hug, a meal, headpats, and a bookshop date 😣💖 WDYM I'm sobbing why are you so sweet I can't even argue you with you anymore 😭😭 just know that I love you with all my heart 😾

—a disgruntled individual who feels better after reading your reply.

Heheh I will!! If I dont mess up XD it was really hard to make nice shape cuz the dough spild stick to my hands and wouldn't stay in the sheet 😭 Sure they are, they look like the cow dumps🤭 Though he said that they were a bit too sweet and now his throat is a sticky mess. Sounds weird now that I'm saying it, but hopefully you know what I mean😭

Oh!! So you love cinnamon? Good to know😼 The cinnamon smell seems kind of overwhelming to me tbh, but maybe I'm just a weakling XD but it is nice, I'd probably live it as much if it werent so strong hehe

True true, like I'm suffering enough, give me a break. Heheh, its really concerning when someone in front of you is leaning their chair back, like sir... please you're about to die stop that😭😭

Oh I'd love to have an appointment with you, doc😝😝

She is badass!! She rode a motorbike years ago, and idk the details but sounds so damn cool. Like, a motorbike, how cool is that!!!😭😭

Heheh, could be true, but my face was like almost fully covered because I hate it when my face is cold😭 but let's pretend it saw me🤭 I think they do? We find different species cute, so they must as well XD TRUE their big eyes are so shiny and pretty and I'm just ...bye 🥺🥺

(Same tbh, I love meat... not sheep meat though, lmao I hate it) Yeah, we really like flour I guess XD that's so cool tbh, I'd love our traditional cuisine to be noodles. I dont even know why I love them so much, it's just... good. Wonderful. The best🍜

KSKCKSKD NOO I FEEL SO BAD FOR YOU WHAT THE HELL WHO DOES THAT!!! What a way to start the new year😭😭😭 LIKE GIVE HER A WEEK OR SOMETHING WHAT THE HELL dont worry!! You can always rant to me<3, I'm here to listen

Hehehh, good to know, I love you a lot too💕💕💕💞💞💞

#Ari💕#from a tired boi who feels more at peace after reading your message and is now ready to sleep

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to-write-ornah · 5 years

Text

Migraine

A/n: WHATS THIS??? NeW CoNteNT??? hey I tried. Be proud of me. Anyways, I found this prompt from @writting.prompt.s on Instagram and immediately thought Jason Todd. So here we are (I’m sure they have a tumblr but I can’t find it at the moment. Maybe I’ll edit it later)

Word count: including the ones you just read, like 3k

Warnings: none it’s just lowkey kinda shitty lol is weak plotline a warning? No? Maybe knives, but that’s it

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Genre: badass fluff I guess

_____________

You, a telepath, are getting the worst migraines from someone internally screaming next door.

—————-

Usually you could tune it out. You almost never heard anyone unless you wanted to. But this idiot, this inconsiderate little shit, had been screaming for nearly three days straight. Not out loud, mind you. Internal screaming. Being telepathic, you had no choice but to listen in on his constant screams. (You could tell it was a he because occasionally he would drop out of his screaming to yell-rant about his father, Bruce. Bruce sounded like a little shit too.)

Today was day three of the scream fest. You’d tried to block it out with music or watching tv, but the only reprieve you’d gotten so far was when you went to the store yesterday. Unfortunately, right now you worked from home. Meaning there was no break. He just. Kept. Screaming.

You rolled your eyes and slammed your laptop shut as he burst into another round of screams, this time about his brother. You groaned, stood up, and made a beeline for the door, ready to go complain to the landlord. The only thing that stopped you was the realization that you couldn’t complain about another resident screaming if, well, he actually wasn’t. Internal screaming wouldn’t get him in trouble, but it would probably get you thrown into some madhouse faster than you can say ‘Gotham.’

You groaned loudly as you shuffled toward your small kitchen, ready to make some coffee, put in some earplugs (which were more or less inefficient, but hey, placebo effect, right?) and try to work some more. You grimaced as he went from screaming to scream-talking. You already had a splitting headache, and it was about to become a migraine.

You got the water ready before suddenly realizing you’d forgotten to buy coffee yesterday at the store.

“Thank the freaking Batman,” you mumbled, heading for your room so you could get ready to go out. If you had to get coffee (aka get a break from Mr. Scream-a-Lot) you were also gonna find yourself a slightly-less dangerous park and hangout for a few...hours, maybe.

It was warm today. Not ‘big-city-humid’ warm, the nice kind that let you enjoy the day. Humming to yourself, mostly to keep your neighbors screams out of your head, you picked out a sundress, some flats, and your leather jacket. It made a good hiding place for your mace, which you always kept with you when you went out. Finally, you slid your garter up your leg, under your dress, and clipped your switchblade to it.

Hey, a girls gotta have protection.

Once you were dressed, you did your hair and a little makeup, excited at the prospect of getting out of your apartment for a while.

You grabbed enough money for coffee and stuck it in your inside jacket pocket before heading out.

‘Bye bye, Mr Screaming Man,’ you thought snarkily, locking your apartment behind your and bounding down the stairs of your building.

————

You’d managed to stay out of the house for almost three hours. Your telepathy was extra helpful in Gotham. If you payed attention, you knew exactly who to avoid and which streets were safe to walk. It made for a nice day out, and your headache was almost gone by the time you got back to your building. Regardless of special powers, Gotham was dangerous at night, and the daylight was starting to fade.

Your steps got slower the closer you got to your apartment. You did not want to deal with this guy again. You should charge him a therapy fee for listening to his rants and screams. The thought made you chuckle.

You punched it the number for your building and waited to get buzzed in before heading up the stairs to your floor.

Turning the corner, you collided with a human wall, sending you flying backwards.

“Woah!”

A hand wrapped itself around your wrist, stopping you before you could hit the floor. You looked up to see a very attractive, very tall boy. Black hair with a white strip, and eyes like sea glass.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized quickly, helping you back up. “I’m usually more aware of my surroundings.”

You couldn’t place his voice, but he sounded familiar.

“It’s fine, really.” You fixed your dress, noticing it had ridden up and exposed part of your garter. You prayed he hadn’t seen it and been freaked out, quickly trying to distract him with questions.

“You’re my neighbor, right? You seem familiar.” You tried not to make a big deal about the fact that he was still holding your wrist, but your eyes flicked back and forth between your hands and his face.

“Yeah, my names Jason. I moved in a few months ago.” He seemed to finally notice his hand on yours and quickly pulled back. You couldn’t help but listen in on his thoughts.

‘Don’t be and idiot, Todd. Why’d you keep your hand on her? She probably thinks you’re creepy now. And she’s cute. And hot. Dammit, idiot.’

You pulled out of his head before you started laughing. At least you knew he thought you were cute.

“Well, Jason, it was nice, if not unconventional, meeting you. I’ll see you around,” You flashed him a smile and stepped around him, heading toward your door.

“Hey, wait!” He called after you. You turned back to see him awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Wait...what was I gonna say? Oh, yeah, ask her on a date! Wait, no, I can’t do that she’ll say no-‘

“Jason, do you wanna go get coffee sometime? Like a date?” You watched in mild amusement as his cheeks turned a light pink color. He crossed and uncrossed his arms twice before answering.

“I mean..- yeah! Yes. Yeah, I’d love to!”

‘Come on, Todd, where’s your confidence? A pretty girl asks you out and you can’t even answer her!’

“Great!” You smiled as though you hadn’t just heard him beat himself up internally. “Meet me out here tomorrow at ten. Try not to run into me,” you teased, turning back toward your door and unlocking it.

“Yeah, um, no I- I won’t.” He awkwardly replied, face an even deeper shade of pink.

“See ya then, cute neighbor.” You called, seeing him a flirty wink before stepping into your house and shutting the door. You stood behind it, listening in on his thoughts for a moment.

‘What the hell just happened? What- what just...wow, I need some caffeine....’

You laughed quietly, heading toward your kitchen to make yourself some coffee. Something about his voice sounds so familiar, but you cant quite place it.

——Jason’s POV—-

I’ll be the first to admit I was angry. Bruce was giving me more missions and longer hours than I wanted, and I’ve spent the last three days staying home and being pissed about it. So when I went to make lunch today I realized I have no groceries. At all. I have half a redbull and a jar of mayonnaise in my fridge. Not ideal for, ya know, actually sustaining yourself. I meant to go to the store, but I ended up crashing on the couch and waking up around four. After a very necessary shower and a change of clothes, I was ready to go find something adult-like to eat.

I tugged on my boots, grabbed my phone and jacket, and headed out. I didn’t make it far before my phone chimed. Bruce. I rolled my eyes and pulled it out of my pocket.

‘You’ve got tonight off until 3 am.’

I groaned, shoved my phone back into my pocket, and turned on my heel.

Oops. Bad idea.

I turned straight into someone. She started to fall backwards, and I instinctively shot my hand out to grab her wrist before she hit the floor.

“Woah!”

‘Shit.’ Her half falling position made her skirt ride up, revealing some kind of garter with a knife clipped onto it. Damn, that was hot.

I pulled her back to her feet, studying her in what I hoped was a casual way. She had e/c eyes and h/l h/c hair. She was pretty. Like, really pretty.

“Sorry about that. I’m usually more aware of my surroundings.”

“It’s fine, really,” she said. She pulled down the skirt of her dress to cover her knife. The silvery sound of her voice distracted me, and I almost didn’t hear her next question.

“You’re my neighbor, right? You seem familiar.” She cocked her head to the side, which I found adorable.

“Yeah, my names Jason. I moved in a few months ago.” Looking down, I realized I hadn’t let go of her hand yet, and quickly did so.

‘Don’t be an idiot, Todd,’ I mentally scolded myself. ‘Why’d you keep your hand on her? She probably thinks your creepy now. And she’s cute. And hot. Dammit, idiot.’

She smiled warmly. “Well, Jason, it was nice, if not unconventional, meeting you. I’ll see you around.” She flashed me another smile and I swore I was gonna melt as she walked away.

Before I knew what I was doing, I’d turned around and called after her.

‘Wait...what was I gonna say?’ My hand went to the back of my neck (nervous habit). ‘Oh, yeah! Ask her on a date! Wait, no, I can’t do that she’ll say no-‘

My internal argument was cut off by her soft voice.

“Jason, do you wanna go get coffee sometime? Like a date?” She asked. I could almost swear she was reading my mind. I felt my face heating up and crossed my arms.

I stuttered out my answer for a moment before getting out what I think was a ‘yes’.

‘Come on, Todd.’ I scolded myself. ‘Where’s your confidence? A pretty girl asks you out and you can’t even answer her!’

“Great!” She smiled. “Meet me out here tomorrow at ten. Try not to run into me.” It took me a moment to realize she was flirting, and I stuttered out what I’m sure was a very embarrassing answer as I felt my face get warmer.

“See ya then, cute neighbor.” She sent me a flirty wink before stepping inside and closing her door.

‘What the hell just happened? What- what just...wow, I need some caffeine.’ I took a step toward my door before remembering I had no food inside. ‘My hot neighbor just asked me out...on a date...wow...’ I shook my head, heading down the stairs and out of the building towards the store.

————

~~ Your POV~~

By the time ten o’clock rolled around the next day, you were ready for your date. You’d done your hair extra nice, fixed your makeup, and even painted your nails. You’d put on a strappy black tank top, high waisted black and white striped shorts, and heeled sandals. You tossed on your leather jacket, finding a hiding place for your switchblade in the pocket, along with your wallet and phone.

You were about to head out to find Jason when you heard a knock on the door.

‘Speak of the devil,’ you thought, walking to the door. You opened it to reveal Jason, standing on your doorstep with a red rose in his hands.

‘Woah,’ you heard going through his head, along with a jumble of other thoughts you couldn’t pull apart.

A blush rose to your cheeks at the unspoken compliment as you took in his appearance.

‘Wow. He looks good.’

“Hi. Is that for me?” You gestured to the rose. He nodded, offering it to you. You took it, gently holding it up and smelling it. It smelled sweet and slightly like what you assumed was his cologne.

“You look..amazing,” he breathed out, his eyes raking up and down your body.

You offered him a smile. “Thanks, handsome. You look great as well. Let me get some water for this and we’ll go?”

He nodded, and you quickly filled a tall glass with water for the rose, leaving it behind and joining Jason outside.

——-

Coffee went great. You walked around the park afterwards and talked for nearly an hour. You found a donut shop, and got donuts together, then continued on your walk. Around halfway through your date, you’d listened in on his thoughts enough and realized that he was your neighbor that would not stop screaming. Lovely. At least he was cute.

It was one twenty or so when he asked you to go back to his place to watch a movie. He didn’t have any other motives in his mind than to spend time with you, so you agreed.

Sometime during your date, you’d started holding hands. On the way back to your building, you were holding his hand and walking on the inside of the sidewalk, closer to the alleyways and buildings. You were in an...interesting...part of town, so you tried to keep your mind stretched out to keep you both safe (not that Jason probably couldn’t, the guy was built like Superman,) but you wanted to be cautious. However, the smooth, rich sound of Jason’s voice telling you about his little brothers was keeping you more or less distracted.

You registered a vaguely dangerous thought coming from an alleyway about two feet ahead of you. You instinctively grabbed your switchblade, flicking it open and pointing it into the alley just as you stepped around the corner. There was a man standing behind the corner, holding a much smaller knife, with an expression of shock on his face. He dropped his knife in surprise. The whole thing happened in a matter of seconds, before Jason had time to react. You ignored the fact that his jaw was basically on the floor (and the onslaught of surprised comments and curse words floating around in his head) and addressed the man in front of you.

“I hope we’ve learnt a valuable lesson about not mugging people in weird alleys.” You raised a brow at him, giving him your best ‘disappointed mom’ face. He nodded hastily before backing away and running down the alley.

You casually flipped your blade closed, bent down, and collected the would-be muggers knife from the ground.

“Here,” you offered it to Jason, who had finally managed to close his mouth (kinda) and was now staring at you in awe.

“How did you know he was there?” He questioned, his expression shifting to confusion.

“I just knew. Did you want this or am I keeping it?” You offered the knife again, but he pushed it aside, releasing his hand from yours. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and turned you to face him. His eyes searched yours as his thoughts became loud enough to hear.

‘Okay that was kinda hot. But how did she know he was there? I didn’t even know he was there and I- no. Maybe she planned it? But why would she plan something like that?’

“Jason,” You said firmly, holding his face in your hands and forcing his thoughts to quiet. “I didn’t plan it.” His eyes widened. “I knew he was there because I’m telepathic. I heard his thoughts.”

He pulled away from you, stepping back. You tried to read his thoughts but realized that he somehow knew how to block them, and was doing so now.

“Please don’t be mad,” you said quietly. Telling him was a huge gamble. There was a fifty percent chance he’d freak out and have you hauled off to Arkham, and a fifty percent change he’d be fine with it. You were seriously hoping the result was the latter.

“Mad? Are you kidding me?”

You braced yourself for him to freak out, already planning which way to run in your head.

“This is so cool!”

Every scared thought you had flew out the window.

“Are you serious?” You quirked a brow, propping a hand on your hip as you studied him.

“Um, hell yes! Wow, that’s so badass! You definitely have to meet my dad.”

You had no idea what his dad had to do with anything, but you went along with it, relieved he didn’t freak out, and actually seemed to think it was a cool thing.

“So you’re not gonna flip out and have me hauled off to Arkham?” You clarified. He stepped toward you, hands going to your hips as he pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours. Your body relaxed as your arms wrapped around his neck, but he quickly pulled away.

“Shit, sorry, I should have asked.” The distressed look on his face made you laugh.

“C’mere Todd.” You chuckled, pulling him back in to you and kissing him. He relaxed against you and kissed you back.

He pulled away with a mischievous smile.

“Does this mean I get a second date?” He asked, smirking.

“Only if you ask this time,” you teased, hands playing with the lapels of his leather jacket.

He gasped dramatically, pulling you closer to him. “That was a low blow, sweetheart.” You pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.

“I’ll make it up to you. But only if you make it up to me first.”

He cocked his head to the side. “For what?”

You laughed. “Honey, I don’t know if you’ve realized this, but you’ve been screaming internally for about three days straight.”

“Woah. You must have the worst migraine ever.” His face blanked. “Shit. I didn’t accidentally tell you I was the Redhood did I?”

“Tell me you were what?!”

—————————

#batfamily #redhood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #x reader #reader insert #dc comics #dc comics x reader #batfam #jason todd redhood

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eleanor-writes-stuff · 6 years

Text

a language of its own - Day 7

“And the heart is hard to translate, it has a language of its own.”

All the ways Rey and Ben say “I love you”.

Guess who’s back after a brief flu-induced break? Welcome to Day 7 of my 12-day Valentine’s collection! Today’s prompt was a “just checking in” kind of love, so here’s a tiny little ficlet which... has nothing at all to do with the prompt, oops.

12 Days of Valentine’s Also available on AO3 Psst, you can also find me on Twitter and Ko-fi!

Ben ❤️❤️❤️: Canto Bight reps are insisting on an emergency meeting tonight. Don’t wait up for me.

Rey: ugh not those fuckwads again okay baby don’t forget to eat something please good night <3

Ben ❤️❤️❤️: Probably late by an hour or two tonight. Snoke wants to fine-tune my proposal before we meet with Lando tomorrow. Go ahead and have dinner without me.

Rey: ben you’ve been working on that proposal for two months there’s nothing left to fix are you almost done? i’m gonna go ahead and sleep now let me know when you get home ps left some beef and broccoli in the fridge for you

Ben ❤️❤️❤️: Fucking Hux is asking me to stay back today to help him with the Stormtrooper pitch.

Rey stares at Ben’s message for all of ten seconds before she hits the call button. It rings for a while, and she pictures Ben excusing himself from another endless conversation and going off in search of some privacy while she waits for him to pick up.

“Rey?”

She misses his voice. It’s ridiculous because they've been living together for a month now and his is usually the first voice she hears in the morning, but lately she’s been waking up to an empty bed more often than not, lucky to catch even a glimpse of Ben before he rushes out the door in the mornings.

“You’ve worked late all week,” Rey hears herself saying in lieu of a greeting. It’s not an accusation, but she winces at it nonetheless, wishing she had broached the subject in a more tactful way. “Besides,” she adds, trying to soften the blow, “Hux has been a total arsehole to you since forever. Tell him to go fuck himself.”

Ben laughs, and she’s struck by the fact that she can’t remember the last time she’d heard his quiet chuckle. “I wish I could, sweetheart. But,” he sighs, and on the other end of the line Rey’s tempted to do the same; nothing good ever comes after a but. “You know how he is. He’d probably just tattle on me like the six-year-old he actually is, and then I’d have to deal with an hour-long lecture about the importance of teamwork or whatever the fuck from Snoke.”

It’s getting harder and harder to remind herself that Ben chose this, wants this, when even he sounds like he hates his job ninety percent of the time.

“I’m sorry, Rey,” Ben adds before she can go on yet another tirade against his boss. “I know I’ve been away a lot. I’ll be home on time tomorrow, I promise. We can even go out for dinner, if you want.”

“That’d be nice,” Rey agrees with a sigh, knowing even as she does that there’s a non-zero chance of something coming up last minute and keeping Ben from their dinner date tomorrow. She flips through her clipboard as Ben rattles off a list of possible restaurants they could check out tomorrow, noting that she’s only got one car left before she can clock out and head home to their empty apartment.

“Rey? Rey, are you there?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sorry,” she tells him, pushing the clipboard aside. “Got distracted.”

“I should let you get back to work,” Ben says, and the hint of reluctance in his voice is enough to make her smile. “Wait, you’re the one who called me. Was there something you wanted?”

She can’t fault him for asking, not when they stopped calling just for the sake of calling a long time ago. Their calls these days are rushed and purposeful, more often than not just a quick question or two to get confirmation on their weekend plans or whether they need something from the store. “No, I… I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

A sharp intake of breath crackles over the line, and Rey can see his wince clear as day in her mind. “God, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry, this week’s just been… Fuck, when was the last time we even had a meal together?”

“Dinner on Sunday,” Rey says before she can think better of it, and immediately regrets it in the guilty silence that follows. “No, wait, there was breakfast on Tuesday–” except that barely counted, because Ben had finished his last bit of toast just as Rey padded into the kitchen, and by the time she’d retrieved a bowl and spoon he’d already brushed a kiss goodbye across her forehead and rushed out the door.

“Fuck it,” Ben mutters a beat later. “Fuck it all. I’ll tell Hux I’ve already made plans tonight. If he’s so much better than me I’m sure he can handle a basic pitch on his own, anyway.”

“Baby, I miss you and all but I don’t want you to get into trouble–”

Ben cuts off her protests. “I miss you too, Rey. Which is fucking ridiculous, because we live together. I’m coming home for dinner tonight, I promise.”

He’s going to get into trouble for this. He is definitely going to get into trouble for this, but god if the determination in his voice doesn’t make her want to cry. “I lo-”

“Shit, someone’s coming,” Ben hisses just as she finds her voice, drowning her out with his panic. “I’ve gotta go now, sweetheart. I’ll see you at home, okay? Bye.”

Rey stares at her phone for the longest time after Ben hangs up.

She’d almost said it – just like that, over the phone, without a moment’s pause or consideration or planning. In that moment it’d just felt right, natural even.

That would’ve come to a screeching halt had the words spilled past her lips only to be met by silence. Rey knows Ben would never do that to her, knows he probably loves her too, but…

But maybe she should wait a little while longer, just to be safe.

First of all, sorry for the sudden break in updates. The flu hit me pretty hard a few days ago, and juggling that with work and writing just proved to be a little too much. To make up for it, I'm planning (hoping) to update multiple times throughout the next two days in order to wrap this up by the end of the week.

Second of all, this chapter went a little off the rails. Sorry about that too; I thought I knew where it was headed when I sat down to write it, but Rey and Ben had other ideas. But hey, prompts are ultimately just gentle, guiding hands leading us to the final product, right? Even when said product ends up having nothing at all to do with the prompt...

As always, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. And please don't hesitate to like/reblog/comment, even if it's just going to be a rant about them not saying it yet.

#reylo #rey x ben #kylo ren/rey #rey/kylo ren #rey/ben solo #star wars #rey #ben solo #kylo ren #ficlet: language of its own #my fics

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katie-dub · 6 years

Text

The Princess of White Chapel (1/12)

Dr Killian Jones is having a terrible day. He’s got a mission, he’s got a time machine, he’s got … drunk. What could possibly go wrong?

AO3

Rated M for alcohol use, violence, minor character death, frank discussions of depression and grief

This is not a Millian fic, but their relationship is discussed and shown in a positive life, if that's not your bag, no hard feelings!

I’m beyond excited to finally share this story with you all for this year’s @captainswanbigbang! I feel like I’ve had this one sitting in my docs forever (forever, nearly two years, same difference), and I can’t wait to see what you all think.

The amazing @princesse-swan created my banner and has some stunning art to share with you while I’m posting. She’s so freaking talented and is the best cheerleader I could have ever hoped for - I don’t know how I got so lucky as to be paired with you lady! Give her some love, because she deserves all the flailing! You'll find her art for me here!

The fantastic @distant-rose and @ultraluckycatnd were my betas, sounding boards, muses and tireless defenders of the oxford comma. Ladies, I salute you!

I have approximately a million more people to thank for helping me to bring this to life, but to save this turning into an embarrassing, over-long, emotional mess like an ill-advised oscars acceptance speech, I’ll just leave your names here, you know what you did and I love you for it. @mahstatins @killiancygnus @phiralovesloki @icecubelotr44 @sambethe @winterbythesea @justanotherwannabeclassic @welllpthisishappening* @fluffandnonsense @belovedcreation @ladyciaramiggles and the ladies of the hub and the ISB.

*psssst it’s Laura’s birthday today! So this chapter is dedicated to her, and you should all go wish her a fabulous day!

A soft hand wrapping around his waist. A mess of tangled curls tickling his cheek. The scent of spices and sex filling his nose.

He kept his eyes closed, basking in the blissful sensations. Life with his love felt like the most perfect dream - and he wasn’t willing to give it up just yet.

“Killian,” a husky whisper in his ear, “Killian, darling, time to wake up now.” A nose nuzzling against the sensitive spot behind his ear, tickling him and making him twitch. Stubbornly, he squeezed his eyes together ever more tightly.

Sharp teeth biting down on his earlobe finally startled him enough to open his eyes. He turned to glare at Milah, forcing himself to hold her gaze so as not to be distracted by her many assets. She giggled at the look of exaggerated fury on his face, ducking down to his ear to whisper “Oops” before licking where her teeth had been.

Killian groaned as she trailed her lips and her tongue along his jaw, kissing, licking, and sucking as she went. His eyes closed as he revelled in the sensations left in her wake, his breath quickening and his pulse starting to race as she inched ever closer to his lips.

When she finally, torturously slowly, brushed her lips against his, he lost all patience. He growled as he tangled his hands into her hair, capturing her lips in a fierce kiss. He rolled her onto her back and broke away, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

“You’ll be the death of me, my love,” he murmured, peppering Milah’s face with kisses.

“But what a way to go, aye?” was her teasing reply, the last of her words lost to a gasp as he began to kiss his way down her body.

Killian awoke from his dream, disoriented and disheveled, by the sound of his phone ringing. He fell off the sofa as he scrambled about to stop the incessant noise, knocking his elbow on the coffee table and sending a glass of water flying in the process.

“Bloody hell!”

God, he wanted to be back in that dream, a decade in the past where he was with Milah, in love, their naked bodies entwined. Alone, in pain, and wearing the contents of his drink on his now soggy shirt. This was his reality now.

He spotted the phone and grabbed it, barking “what?” as he stalked towards his kitchen for something to clean up the mess.

“Hi Killian,” Belle answered benignly. She always did have saintly levels of patience with his bullshit. “Just checking if you’re going to make it to book club tonight? We’re discussing Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman.” Killian glanced at the clock, 7:35. He was meant to be there… five minutes ago. Fuck. “And before you try fobbing me off by saying that you haven’t read the book and wouldn’t have anything to add anyway, you suggested this one Killian. In fact, you’re meant to be leading the discussion. I believe you said that it’s one of your favourites, a ‘modern classic’?” He could actually hear the air quotes he had no doubt Belle would do if they were together.

“Belle, I’m really sorry, it’s just something important came up.” He glanced at the letter lying on his coffee table, alongside a now nearly empty bottle of rum, his jaw clenching at the sight. “I just can’t tonight.” He winced as he waited for the inevitable backlash. Was she going to get angry? Guilt him with the weight of her crushing disappointment?

“Oh. That’s a shame. I really wanted to introduce you to a friend of mine. Maybe another time.”

Killian made a vaguely noncommittal noise in reply, wanting to rant at her for pushing him towards a new relationship. While Belle was kind enough to be so understanding about him bailing on her yet again, he didn’t feel like he could, but the rage simmered all the same.

“I've got to go, everyone’s waiting. Call me later?”

“Sure, Belle, bye.” Killian hoped he had sounded at least vaguely civil as he jabbed at his phone to end the call. He dropped it next to him as he slumped back against the sofa. Unconsciously, he began to play with the ring on the prosthetic that had replaced his left hand while he fumed silently at Belle’s presumption. When would they all understand that what he had with Milah couldn’t just be replaced? That he didn’t even want to try?

Perhaps if they understood his plans, they wouldn’t push him so hard. He didn’t need a replacement for Milah. He needed to save her. And he would.

So long as time hadn’t run out.

He picked up the letter that had driven him to drink until he passed out when he received it earlier that day. It had been a long time since he had spiralled like that and lost sight of his goal. He re-read the words, still in disbelief, somehow hoping a few hours would have changed their meaning. If it weren’t for the official King’s College London letterhead, he might have thought it was a wind up.

“Dear Dr. Jones,

It is with regret that we must inform you that, in line with the current economic troubles society is facing, we have made the decision to withdraw your funding at the end of the academic year.”

Killian couldn’t read any further. He knew who was behind this move. Bloody Gold, the beast who killed his Milah and took his hand, was still playing games with him. It was one of his favourite things to do: fuck with the man who fucked his wife.

He would never get over how having endless funds could apparently absolve you of any sin. That, combined with powerful allies (a mixture of establishment school friends and power-hungry fools who’d been suckered in by one-sided deals), made him untouchable. He had never even gone to court for his part in the death of his ex-wife and maiming of her lover. Killian’s protests of Gold’s guilt had been taken as merely the ravings of a man crushed by grief.

Everyone had indulged him kindly, until they hadn’t.

The principal and president of King’s College himself had come to Killian to explain how his vendetta against the eminent philanthropist harmed not only his future prospects but threatened his entire faculty’s continued existence. Gold’s generous grants were vital to the university, as he was reminded, and it wouldn’t do to upset the man.

So Killian had chosen to play the long game. Almost as soon as Milah was killed, he had sworn to himself that he would use his research to find a way to save her life. And after months of enduring Gold’s bullying, he had also made it his mission to destroy the man while he did it.

It was so much easier to smile and make nice where necessary when he could picture how he might one day rip Gold’s throat out.

Reductions in funding could be brushed aside as he enhanced his prosthetic so that it moved as fluidly as his remaining hand - and was more deadly than it could ever be. Academic papers that were blocked from publication without justification became but a minor nuisance as he trained to take on Gold’s henchmen. Applications for grants and proposals to present research that were denied were just mild irritations while he worked on the time machine that would bring all his plans to fruition.

Killian scrunched the letter up and threw it into the bin, then dragged his hand through his hair.

The end of the academic year. That was only one month away. He had one month to make his time machine work or 10 years of endless toil - and his only chance to save his love - would have all been for nothing.

He had been without his Milah for longer than he’d been with her now, but he still felt her loss as keenly as the night he lost her. The sound of her voice may be dimming in his memory, but the way she made him feel would never fade, his love for her would never die. At times, he felt as though Gold had reached right into him and ripped his heart from his chest back then. In its place was a black hole that allowed for no love, no joy and certainly no mercy.

Belle, Robin, Will, and the rest had no idea what they were dealing with when they tried to play matchmaker. When they tried to get him out of his shell and having fun. When they tried to make him live his life like a respectable member of society.

Oh, if only they knew.

Killian had always been a man of many vices: drink, gambling, sex. But then Milah had come along. She had changed him, had made him better. He still indulged, but in a socially respectable fashion and not with the crazed air of a man on the brink of destruction. When she died, he could practically feel his friends holding their breath, waiting for the wildfire to ignite. What they didn’t know - couldn’t know - was that he had something else to keep him going now: her rescue and his revenge.

His head felt fuzzy, the hangover from his earlier desperate binge already kicking in. This was why he had abstained. He couldn’t afford to feel like this. Not when Milah needed him.

He closed his eyes and remembered the first time he saw her.

His head was swimming after several hours of shots and pints and god knows what else. Yet, one look at her and everything became clearer. She was sat in a corner, looking lonely and nervous, glancing about furtively. She had looked up from her drink and caught his eye, smiling shyly and quickly looking away. She was stunning.

Then a brute of a man stepped between them.

Killian’s first thought had been sheer irritation at having his view of this goddess blocked. But then he noticed that the man had one hand on her shoulder, his grip harsh.

Killian hadn’t stopped to think before racing over to her. As he moved closer, he could see that his instinct about this man had been right: she looked anxious and annoyed.

He tapped the giant on the shoulder, smiling brightly at him when he turned around.

“Excuse me, would you mind letting go of this lovely lady?” Killian winked at her and was delighted to see a faint blush and a barely suppressed smile cross over her face. “Once you’ve done that, could you go… well, anywhere else?” Definitely not his wittiest line, but Killian was just impressed that he managed to sound clear and confident.

A confused expression crossed over the man’s face and he did indeed let the lady go. “Were you talking to me?”

“I’m sorry, did I talk too fast? You’ve managed to take your hand off the lady, excellent work. 10 out of 10 for that. Now all that’s left is for you to kindly fuck off.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“Well…” Killian tilted his head to the side, as if musing on the question. But then he balled his hand up into a fist, punched the man hard and knocked him to the ground.

He looked up at the woman who had captured his attention. Her eyes were wide with fear and, if he wasn’t mistaken, admiration. She stared at him in shock for a moment before speaking.

“You shouldn’t have done that.”

“He shouldn’t have been touching you without your consent.” All of a sudden Killian panicked; he knew how the situation had looked, but perhaps she hadn’t been a damsel in distress after all? “I mean, you looked very unhappy about him being here, did I get that wrong?”

“No, you were right. But you shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“He’s one of my husband’s men sent to bring me home.” She spat out the words, her eyes darting around the room as if checking for others. After a few moments of searching and presumably finding nothing, she seemed to relax.

While Killian did note this odd behaviour, he was more preoccupied by the word “husband”. He felt his face fall. Of course this goddess was unavailable. She looked up at him and grinned wickedly.

“I wasn’t ready to go home anyway. Want to have a drink with me … ?”

“I’m Killian,” he supplied, looking down at her left hand to see a ring stubbornly placed on her finger. “And you’re married.”

“My name’s Milah, actually.”

Killian laughed at that. “It’s lovely to meet you, Milah.”

That had been the start of a dark and dangerous affair that had ultimately led to his Milah’s death. Killian squeezed his eyes together, fighting back tears. Even before her untimely end, he had wondered if his presence in her life was more trouble than it was worth, but she had always reassured him that his love had made her complete. He had certainly felt that way about her - and with her gone, he was broken and could never be whole again.

He needed Milah back, and time was running out. What better time than the present to go back to the past?

He didn’t stop to consider the obvious factors working against him: he was tired, stressed and intoxicated. He was fairly certain that “drunk in charge of a time machine” went against some kind of time traveller rule.

(Probably up there with “don’t change the past”, but he was hardly going to obey that one, was he?)

Then there was the small matter that he hadn’t yet managed a successful test. Most of the time, he would switch the machine on and nothing would happen.

But every now and then, it would glitch and cause odd ripples in the world around him. His educated guess about the strange phenomenon was that the machine was swapping his particles with particles of Killian Jones from alternative universes - pulling pieces of some other him into this one. One time his prosthetic shimmered and mutated into a hook and back again before he could so much as groan at the cliché. Another time, he went colour blind for a few hours. Once his hair mysteriously turned blonde for a week until he could recalibrate the machine.

(He had to wonder at the alternative version of him who thought that was a good look. He assumed in that reality Killian Jones did not have a friend like Will Scarlet, intent on mocking him relentlessly.)

But he was confident that his calculations were all correct now. This time he would manage it.

He grabbed the bag that he had packed long ago with everything he needed to exact his revenge and stumbled down to the tube. The air was oppressive in the underground station thanks to the late July heat as he waited for his train. He swayed, swallowed down a wave of nausea and cursed himself for choosing the hellish heat over cycling to campus as he usually did. Some sensible part of him had realised that he didn’t have the wit needed to cycle through London traffic - and yet that self-preservation instinct wasn’t strong enough to stop him from propelling himself on a dangerous quest.

The dry, hot wind of the approaching train provided some relief even as it burnt his skin. He clambered aboard and settled into an empty seat. He was grateful for the unspoken British rule that one must sit as far away from other living souls as was physically possible and never, upon pain of death, make eye contact with or talk to strangers. And so, he made it to Embankment station without once having to so much as glance at another human, instead ruminating on calculations and probabilities in his head.

The air outside was only marginally more refreshing than that below ground. It didn’t have that stale, recycled quality, but it was thick with humidity and the scent of melting tarmac. He tugged at his collar and loosened yet another button on his shirt. In his rush to leave, he had failed to change out of the shirt he had fallen asleep in and he could smell alcohol and sweat in the fabric. It suddenly felt inauspicious to greet his lost love in such crumpled clothes, but time was against him. He had to press on.

No one stopped him as he made his way into the nearly deserted building. The undergrads were home for the summer, so the halls were stalked only by the professors who finally had time to do their real work, students plugging away at their doctorates and the unlucky few who needed to retake exams using the month before resits to study hard. At this time of night in particular, few were to be seen in the Strand, unless, of course, they were haunting the bars that were littered in and around campus instead of devoting themselves to academia.

Killian Jones had long since accepted that his habits fell far out of the realm of what most considered normal. And to be completely honest? He couldn’t care less.

He finally made his way to his lab, unlocking the door with a buzz of excitement. It was finally happening.

He strode straight to the machine, stashing his bag in the footwell then climbing inside and buckling in.

He took a deep breath, staring blankly at the calendar on the wall in front of him. He had long thought about this moment. He knew exactly when he needed to go to: one week before Milah’s death. Enough time to get to Gold and stop him, but not long enough to risk meeting himself. He hoped anyway.

He paused for a moment, suddenly realising how reckless this was. He hadn’t run any last checks. No one knew what he was doing.

But then he thought of Milah. She deserved this.

He input the coordinates and hit the command to send.

For a long moment, nothing happened.

Then lights began to swirl in front of him, moving fast enough to make him dizzy. He saw a beam of light shooting out from the machine and blasting through a window - that certainly hadn’t happened before. He hoped that was a sign of success, he really didn’t want to have to clean up the mess if it wasn’t. Then, just as suddenly as the light show had started, it stopped. Everything went still.

Had it worked?

Killian cautiously stepped out of the time machine and looked around. He was still in the lab surrounded by his equipment. His eyes flicked to the calendar on the wall. It stubbornly continued to read 2017 and he knew this attempt had failed.

He clenched his jaw in an attempt to keep the tears from his eyes. He’d let Milah down. Again. After all these years, he still couldn’t save her. If this hadn’t worked, he honestly didn’t know if anything would.

“It didn’t work,” he muttered to himself, racking his brain for something, anything, that he had done wrong. He must have miscalculated something, but he had been so sure he had it this time. “Why didn’t it bloody work?” He swept his hand across the nearest counter, sending everything scattering to the floor in his frustration.

His head pounded and his stomach turned, reminding him of how much alcohol he’d consumed. He knew he should stay, should try to understand his mistake for Milah’s sake, but he just couldn’t. His soul was weary with the weight of yet another failure, of carrying the burden of his revenge alone, of the sad and empty existence his life had become.

Tears pricked at his eyes and his chest ached with anger. If only Gold hadn't interfered again, pushing him to act before he was ready... This was all his fault.

No, it's yours, whispered a voice from somewhere deep inside. This is your failure. Why did you ever think that you could achieve the impossible?

The whispers of his inner tormentor grew louder and more cruel, detailing his faults, all the ways he let down those he loved, and showing him that he could never have his happy life back. He had done too much, been too distant, his life was empty because he made it so. The vicious narrative overwhelmed him until he felt physically sick.

He needed to get out of there, so he left, leaving his supplies and the shattered remains of his window scattered across the floor.

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan #cs fic #ouat ff #katie dub writes #tpowc

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