#i really needed words of affirmation today lmao it has been such a shit day

[monstermp3]

wonpil is the most tender, warm-hearted, and loving man i've ever seen. listening to him play the piano just brought tears to my eyes. he suits the piano so much like i can't even put it into words... like piano chords are almost like warm hugs to me!! the kind of music that you could go home to after a long day and just cry in its embrace. i'd love to listen to him play the piano for as long as i can. and i hope he'll always find joy in making music and giving love.

[jiminrings]

OKAY LISTEN idk if someone or you already planned sth like this but how about y/n finally decides to confess/tell jk but someone else claims to be her before she could do it so * cue to the angst bc y/n sees the whole thing/she hears from her friends * and ofc koo eventually finds out bc that b*tch doesn't even have the fucking lunchboxes 😑

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

stem koo's the three-peat king for having the best research papers, but he's the worst when it comes to believing the right person

"i think i'm gonna tell him."

you say it to no one in particular, really, but you hear yoongi rISING from his nap on the couch

it wasn't meant to wake him at all

it was just an epiphany of sorts that popped into your head

physically felt as if your head would just bursT if you didn't say it out loud to affirm your own thoughts lmao

"for real???" he's rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, very evident that he wouldn't wake up to finish his thirteen pending assignments but he 10/10 would wake up to hear your epiphany

yoongi is awake for the action!!!! lmao does professor roux from calculus think that he wakes up at the morning and doing shapes (or whatever they teach at calc) is the fIRST thing in his mind????

"interesting," he nods solemnly when you nod your head, reaching out for a fist bump before he plops to your shoulder, "i suggest dressing like a virgin wearing H&M when you confess. it would hit close to home."

yoongi's the touchy affectionate one between the two of you but you'll forgive him bc he's still sleepy

NOOOOOOO

jungkook doesn't look like a virgin wearing H&M :((((

his clothes aren't from there lol

"pass."

"say that you're a top verified contributor both in quora and brainly."

PLEAAAAAASE SJWHSHWHHWV

"nice idea," you snort as yoongs genuinely thinks that it'd get jungkook to propose on the spot, "but no cigar."

"pretend to love big bang theory."

"you're getting onto something here."

"your hobby is fact-checking rick and morty."

"yoongi wow you are on fIRE today-"

"your guilty pleasure is not wearing protective gear during experiments."

"where is this coming from??"

"OH!!!! i'll pretend to mug him or something and you can attack me!!!"

....

??????

yeah yoongi's train of thought just crashed

you were pretty sure he was going on a science theme there wHY DID IT DERAIL

yoongi looks confused because you look confused, as if he didn't just give you the mindblowing idea,, free of charge

lol but no he really didn't

"i'm not doing any of that shit, yoongs."

"oh yeah???" he squints at you and hollows his cheeks, taunting you entertainingly while he worms his way to your lap to nap again

"what are you planning to do?"

holy sHIT this is nerve-wracking

she feels like she's gonna pass out the whole time that she's been rehearsing this in her head

she's been waiting outside the classroom for twenty minutes now and the bell finally rang and she can't believe it!!!! omg is it game-time now

everyone's filing out of the room and she could just feel that jungkook would come out of the room last-

ALRIGHT FUCK THE BELL RANG

you could do this!!!!

everyone's filing out of the room and you know in your heart that jungkook would stay behind, his routine being to politely chat with the professor before he leaves

you're a lil nervous alright

you're scanning the room and there's only a few people left and your eyes instinctively go to the mini desk next to the door and-

FUCK

DID YOU FORGET TO BRING IT HOME YESTERDAY??????

goddamn it

yesterday was when coach jeong was mad because someone from your team just hAD to bring beer!!! and not even have the common sense to put it on a discreet thermos or sth and you know!!!! to not drink it in public or in front of the coach!!!!

doing laps on the oval field will now make you hurl on command just by thinking about it

you physically did not have the cognizance to go and fetch the lunchbox to wash it,,,, or like even move at all

FUCK IT

how are you gonna swipe the lunchbox now? now when the professor's packing up, jungkook's loitering around the classroom, and there's this girl who's-

wait

who's this girl??

who is she and wHY IS SHE EYEING THE LUNCHBOX

fuck it!!! here goes nothing

she's stepping completely into the room and making sure her block heels generate enough clacking,, hands already moving in practiced moments as she attempts in making it seem like she's rushedly putting the lunchbox bag into her tote — as if it's from there, and she's always done this

jungkook hears noises coming from the back of the room, eyes widening before he comes up the stairs in record time

"no. get your own."

he grips the girl's wrist, about to pry off her hands from his lunchbox

he hears her giggle sweetly, the melody being something he's heard before

"i did. after all, i did get you these."

:O

"hyeji?"

hyeji's a pretty girl!!! a nice girl in jungkook's year that wears fit dresses and cartier bangles :D

she stands out really, sometimes literally because she appears in the school's flyers and advertisements

"hyeji," jungkook breathlessly connects the dots including the fact that she looks caught in the act; holding his lunchbox, her tote bag open, and a peek of another completely different lunchbox in her other hand, "i-it's been you this whole time?"

hyeji blushes, sheepishly tucking her perfectly shiny and neat hair behind her ears, "you caught me then."

kook laughs both in nervousness and giddiness, pushing his glasses up and suddenly conscious that he should've worn contacts, "b-but how? we don't share this class."

:O

hyeji bursts into a giggle, blushed cheeks staining further than the five minutes she tried getting the perfect amount

"r-right! kinda amazing what depths you'd go for a person you like, hm?"

jungkook is about to pass out

HE'S PUT IN A SITUATION

a situation that he likes and is too giddy to find a reply for

he apparently doesn't need a reply, because a chair scrapes harshly against the floor and it brings him down to reality immediately

you cannot fucking believe what you just witnessed

you stand abruptly from the seat you've been frozen in with a great deal of urgency because you cAN'T stand to be in this room any longer

they actually forgot that the two of them aren't alone

that you're still here

little miss hyeji's just as shocked

you feel stupid and even more stupid that you're still holding a stupid notebook you even decorated

it has a doodle in the front and all the remaining pages are of the copies you've replicated on jungkook's sticky notes — the same ones you've been trying to make perfect just for him

"y/n!" he sputters when your backpack accidentally leans too much to your side and hits him on the way out

"move."

you’re feeling everything but fine and god you just hated that you always willed yourself to move oN

you’re beyond mad when you put on your jersey!!!

you’re irrevocably dejected when you put on your cleats!!!!

you feel cheated on when you zip up your duffel and walk all the way to the field!!!

it’s a combination of the type of frustration that makes you want to move plus the type that paralyzes you, the whole thing unlike anything you’ve ever felt before

you’re clearly in your head and frankly, you’re just too good

too good that there's no game at all because the only thing happening is you scoring

there's no passing going on or the sort

everyone is just :O looking at their captain to be in the most furiously determined state that they’ve ever seen you in

you don’t even realize that you’re the oNLY one moving in the whole field

“alright, alright — jesus christ! go to the bench and sort your head out, captain,” coach jeong literally has to JOG over to your spot to jolt you

oh there he is again

jaehyun just had to bench you didn’t he

sometimes it’s lost on you that jaehyun, just like seokjin, used to be your senior

he hated juniors with a burning passion and you’re the ONLY one he’s taken a tolerance for

((you lent him your umbrella and it coincidentially had to be a bad day for him tHEN that made him like you))

you’re having none of it though because this time, you’re the one who has the bad day and the captain title does nothing to appease you

“sure, coach.”

you mumble just as lively and walk to completely the fURTHEST side of the bleachers, being so far out that you could barely see your team

what are you supposed to do? simmer in the thoughts you so badly didn’t want to have in silence??????

"y/n?"

the voice you least expected to hear perks up right next to you

what the hell is jungkook doing here now??

he looks lost, two hands clinging onto his backpack straps before tentatively looking at you again

“did i do anything to upset you?”

so he wants to ask that?

you snort automatically, suddenly wishing that you didn’t walk this far because you can’t make an excuse that jaehyun’s calling for you

"because my bag accidentally hit you on the way out? no, jungkook."

jungkook knits his brows in question, seemingly take offense to what you’ve just said to hom

"we're not exactly associated for me to be mad at you, are we?" you emphasize even further, not caring the least bit that your words have an edge to them

he deadpans, pursing his lips before sarcastically smiling at you

".... so you're upset at me?"

://

jungkook takes your silence for him to delve further, not paying attention to how your eye is begging to twitch at him

"i asked if i did anything to upset you, and you said no. but that doesn't necessarily mean you aren't. you could be upset at me even if i didn't do anything to you."

wow

you sound like a real fucking nerd jungkook

"do you have any idea how condescending you sound right now?"

kook barely has a solid inch on you yet the nagging feeling that he’s belittling you makes you grip your fists tight, posture wavering

"so you do admit that you're upset at me?"

he’s not the most patient person either but something about you and the situation right now just makes him tick a little faster

your eyes narrow at what he’s aiming to get at, your hand on your hip feeling heavy at this point

"what does it matter to you if i'm upset or not? we are not-"

"i am associated to you!!! even to a degree!!! you walked me home!"

jungkook is the one who breaks first and he doesn’t look fazed to have opposed you so loudly, still standing by himself

"i would walk anyone home."

"no you wouldn't-"

"i would walk anyone who was as vulnerable and as anxious as you were, jungkook!!"

it is true

you’d walk anyone home within reason regardless if they were jungkook or not!!!

the guy in question only looks at you straightly, brows not stubborn but still just as unrelaxed

:((

"good to know. then you're not upset at me, and i didn't do anything to upset you."

"sure."

you only say just to spite him, about to turn your back and leave him completely to go back to your practice game

jungkook surprises you again and flips a switch just as quick as your mini argument of sorts escalated

"anyways!! i'm sorry for being a little off when i interviewed you that day. i got a 100 on that assignment, by the way :))"

what?

what’s he still doing here?

he’s talking about his grades and whatnot to you as if literally twenty seconds ago did nOT happen!!

"why are you still-"

"and the one who's been giving me my lunchboxes confessed to me today!! for hyeji to be the girl giving me them, it makes perfect sense."

you shrug away the weirdness that jungkook’s moved on from the argument as fast as this, trying a take two for a peaceful conversation

this time, you’re the one who unknowingly flips a switch at her name — something so foreign and sudden yet something you quickly grew to hate

"i wouldn't be so trusting if i were you."

that seems to hit a nerve on him again, making him scoff in reply

"good thing you aren't me then."

what is ON with him????

"watch it. i'm your senior, kid."

you’re more irritated than the first and second time around that you’ve been agitated this day

"why? are you normally this self-absorbed that you wouldn't trust a girl who's confessed??"

self-absorbed?

you aren’t the most selfless person ever but god do you know for a fact that you’re not vain as jungkook’s insisting you to be

you hate him.

you hate this version of him that isn’t the same jungkook you’ve known to like ever since the start of the semester

"same thing as polygraphs not being a hundred percent reliable. anyone could tell the truth as long as you ask the wrong questions," you detail on further because jungkook loves details, right? might as well give him several

"or did you even ask?"

jungkook scowls as if you’ve insulted his mother and his entire lineage, face contorting into everything but warm

"what does it matter to you? didn't you just tell me that we aren't associated? why are you projecting all your moaning on hyeji?"

WHAT

WHAT????

"you know what? maybe i am associated to you. i think i'd also tell this to everyone i'd walk home — maybe you shouldn't be too trusting, huh? maybe you shouldn't just let anyone walk you home."

the tears this time are more insistent to come out this time but you’d rather dIE than for jungkook to stain your pride like this

"no one should walk me home, besides you? is that what you're trying to say?"

no!!

for fuck's sake you aren't even finished with your point!!

before you could continue, jungkook shakes his head at you — the most disappointing shake of his head that it curses you soft

"what am i even doing? you wouldn't understand."

he closes the distance that’s been alarmingly shorter throughout the whole time, jungkook being the one to break it

"because no one gives you lunchboxes. no one exerts effort in making you cheerful — no one wants to go the extra mile for you, and no one wants to walk you home."

he's insulting you right to your face and that’s when your dam breaks, lips quivering impossibly as you stare him down with a genuinely pained gaze you didn’t know you carried

"you wouldn't know what i feel, because no one likes you."

jungkook gets the last word in.

he leaves you in the same field he's first approached you in nervousness.

today, he leaves it differently.

sweat isn't the only thing on your face but instead it’s the frustrating hot tears you haven’t had in awhile

your fists are balled but there's no power to the anger behind it

you’re almost always alone outside the company of the closest friends you’ve ever had — but this is the only time that you truly felt that you are alone.

today's a good day to give up on jungkook.

[itsallyscorner]

I'm loving your little mix works so much I wanted to request something if you're not too busy idk if you've seen the interview where perrie says that alex went to rehearsals with her because she couldn't get choreographies right and he would help her well what if tom did the same for reader??? and Jesy is soft for them but she won't admit it

Hi lovey! Thank you so much for the request! I added a little twist to it, but it’s still the same concept you wanted. AND YES, JESY LOVES THEM TOGETHER SHE JUST DOESN’T WANT TO ADMIT IT. I hope you like it, happy reading!💜✨

💌.

Patience

I hope you enjoy this! I honestly had so much fun rewatching Break Up Song over and over again to get the little dance they do in the chorus, it’s stuck in my head lol. That’s basically the dance the reader is trying to do, if you want to see the dance it’s somewhere towards the end of the Break Up Song video!

You watched the video your choreographer sent to you and the girls. You watched it over and over again, taking a moment to study the moves before getting up from the bed and doing them yourself. The video was a little dance Kayleigh, your choreographer, created for the Break Up Song music video. Since the pandemic was still in full affect and everyone was still on lockdown, shooting a music video at a studio was an absolute no go. As much as it sadden you and the girls that you couldn’t film your original vision for the video, your health and the crew’s health meant the most to all of you at the moment. Instead of not filming a music video at all, you and the girls have decided that it would be fun to shoot the video on your own at your own homes.

Which brings you to today. You were in your room, that you shared with Tom, trying to learn the choreography. Honestly, it wasn’t that hard of a dance, it was quite simple. The video Kayleigh sent you all was probably less than a minute. The dance was supposed to be done during the chorus, the rest of the song would be freestyle or clips of you all doing some nonsense for fun.

Your brows furrowed together, eyes glaring at your phone screen while you tried to figure out how to sway your arms and circle them to make them cross. Like Perrie, it took you a while to learn choreography. Unlike the other three, you and Perrie took extra time studying the dancers and had extra sessions at the studio to get the choreography down. Though it was sometimes frustrating, the end result was always worth it.

You cursed to yourself as the video ended for the twentieth time. You tried repeating the steps, watching yourself in the mirror, but it just wasn’t coming out right. You felt your body growing hot as you became upset at yourself for not understanding a few simple steps. You thought learning through a video would be easier, but no, it’s more difficult for you. There was no guidance from Kayleigh, she wasn’t there to tell you what you were doing wrong or what you were doing right. You just felt lost and confused.

Groaning, you snatch your phone from the table and throw yourself onto your bed. You take Tom’s pillow, hugging it as you lay on your stomach. You shove your face into his pillow, the smell of him with a mix of his shampoo bringing you some kind of solace from your frustration.

(Y/n)🌺: Girls, do we really need to have a dance in the video?

Perrie🦋: Yeah I agree. Do we REALLY need one?

Jesy💖: Don’t tell me you guys can’t get that?

Do you not get it?

Leigh-Anne😻: Huns, it’s like learning a TikTok dance

Jade💜: It’s so easy! Girls, it’s like 30 secs of the video. We always have a dance choreo in our videos!

(Y/n)🌺: But we’re bad at dancing🥺

Perrie🦋: You all know how hard it is for me and (y/n) to pick up choreography:(

Jesy💖: (y/n), isn’t Tom a dancer?

(Y/n)🌺: He used to do ballet and he was in Billy Elliot, he won’t shut up about it.

Why?

Jesy💖: Ask twinkle toes to help you, he might be able to teach you.

If he can teach you how to spoil things, he can teach you how to dance👌🏽

Jade💜: ^^^ she’s got a point

Leigh-Anne😻: Omg Tom did ballet?

Jesy💖: Lmao what a loser

(Y/n)🌺: That’s actually a good idea, I’ll go bother him rn:))

Perrie🦋: Right I’m glad (y/n) has a way to learn the dance but what about me? I live with a football player🙁

Turning your phone off, you hop out of bed and skip your way out of the bedroom. You walk around the house looking for Tom, but instead bump into Harrison and Tuwaine.

“Boys, where’s Thomas?” You ask them, stealing one of the chips Harrison was eating. With a playful glare, he softly smacks your hand. You cheekily grin at him as you eat the chip.

“He’s outside with Harry, they’re cleaning the patio.” Tuwaine answers. Harrison snorts, “And doing a shit job at it.” You quickly thank them and pull on the glass sliding doors to get to the backyard. You see Harry with one of those power hoses spraying dirt off the concrete as Tom stood to the side filming him. You wait for him to end his video before coming up behind him and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“I thought you were supposed to be cleaning with Harry?” You ask him, earning Harry’s attention.

“You know what (y/n), that’s exactly what I said!” Harry answered sarcasticly, spraying the hose dangerously close to Tom’s feet. Your boyfriend yelps, turning around to scoop you in his arms and move you both away from Harry and the hose.

“You dick!” He hissed at his brother. Harry chuckles satisfied at riling up his brother. He turns around and returns to his task at hand.

Tom puts you down on your feet though his hands remain at your hips. You look up at him, admiring the way his eyes and hair give off a sweet honey color in the sun.

“What’s up bub? Have you got the dance down yet?” He asks, thumbs rubbing circles onto your hips. Your face contorts together, nose scrunched up in irritation at the mention of the dance. Tom notices your change in expression and pouts at you.

“I’m gonna take that as a no?” You sigh, leaning into his chest and rest your head on his shoulder. Picking up on your exasperation, he pulls you in closer and places his palm on your back rubbing soothing circles onto it.

“I don’t know why I can’t just get it. It’s so bloody simple and I just can’t do it. Why am I like this?” You ramble, beating your head against his shoulder with every word. Tom makes a sound of disagreement as he gently pulls you away from his shoulder.

Before he can speak he presses multiple kisses onto your forehead making you giggle, “There’s nothing wrong with you, darling. It just takes you a little bit longer to properly learn choreography, there’s nothing wrong with that! You’re an excellent dancer in my eyes.”

You fondly roll your eyes at him, always one for the sweet talk, “You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

“No, I’ve seen you dance before (y/n), you’re actually good.” His eyes quickly rake over your body, “But as your boyfriend, I think you look extremely hot when you dance. Especially in those little costumes you wear during tour.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, placing a light kiss on his lips. “Hmmm, ok. Well, then as my boyfriend, will you help me learn the dance?” You try to soften him up with some puppy eyes and a smile that made the corner of your lips squish up to your cheeks.

Without any hesitation, he agrees, not thinking of how difficult it would be to actually teach you the dance.

~⏰~

Hours pass and Tom was slowly losing his shit. He loves you, absolutely adores you, like nothing in the world will ever make him stop loving you. But trying to teach you simple choreography was making him loose his mind.

Tom stares blankly at the floor, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. You stood a few feet away from him, cringing to yourself as you watched your boyfriend regain his patience with you.

“I love you.” You squeaked out sinking into your shoulders. Tom sighs and takes his head out his hands to look at you tiredly. He drags himself off the bed and stands in front of you. He cups your face in his hand, squishing it gently and playfully growls at you.

“Darling, I love you too.” He affirms with a fond smile. He lets out a breath before resting his forehead onto yours, “I just—why can’t you get it? I don’t understand.”

You pout at him and huff, “It’s not that easy, it’s really hard!” You and him had been practicing for a while now. For the first few minutes, Tom watched the video a number of times until he finally got the steps memorized. Then he took an hour of breaking down each step for you while you stood beside him repeating his moves. When he asked you to do it all together, all the steps you’ve rehearsed went out the window. Which lead to Tom breaking down the steps for you once again and so on.

“Baby, I did everything I can. I’ve done it really slow and explained each step to you.” He reasoned. “I don’t know what else to do.”

“But it’s hard Tommy!” You defended yourself, almost on the verge of crying because you still couldn’t comprehend the steps. Though you were probably overreacting, your whole day had been full of frustration; you were tired and mad at yourself for not understanding something so simple and now it was all coming together to make you explode.

“(Y/n), it’s like only ten to nine steps, you could do it.” Tom tried to encourage you. You groaned and pull yourself away from him. You plop yourself down to the bed, face smushed right into the pillows.

“I’m hopeless.” You said into the pillow, though it might have came out muffled for Tom. Tom frowned at your figure on the bed. He was upset at two things. One, he hated seeing you so frustrated with yourself. He just wanted to wrap you up in hugs and tell you that he was proud of you for trying your best. Two, he was mad at himself for kind of loosing his temper with you. You asked him for help and he did do that but he could have been a bit more patient. He knew you weren’t that good with rehearsing choreography so he should have expected the process to take a little bit slower.

“(Y/n), it’s swing, swing, round, swing, what’s so hard to understand?” Tom swung his arms like how Kayleigh did in the video, though his motions were quite harsh and sharp.

“I don’t know! I can’t swing my arms properly.” You complained, repeating his steps, your arms moving loosely.

“It’s just swinging your arms! There’s nothing hard about swinging your arms!” He exploded, throwing his arms in the air. An almost crazed look was in his eyes as he gripped onto the roots of his hair. Squeezing his eyes shut he took a breath in, “I need a break.”

Guilt filled him as he heard a sniff come from the pillow. Tom was immediately by your side trying to get you to look at him. “Darling, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled.”

He sees you move your face so he can hear you properly, “No, it’s okay, you were just expressing how you feel. It’s my fault I can’t comprehend simple choreograph.”

Tom sighs, shifting so he’s laying against you, head resting on the same pillow as yours while he waits for you to look at him again. One hand supports his head and the other rubs circles onto your back. He feels you relax under his touch making him pull you closer because he felt like you needed the comfort. You were trying your best, he knew you were. In fact, he even saw you getting some of the steps correct, you just instantly doubted yourself.

“No, I should’ve remembered that it takes a few times for you to memorize choreography. I should’ve been more patient.” He began. “And you came to me for help and I did nothing but make you even more upset, I’m sorry.” He apologized. Your head rises from the pillow, Tom softly chuckles at the strands of hair that covered your face.

“Don’t say that, you did a great job at helping me, I’m just—stupid.” You shrug nonchalantly. Tom rolls his eyes, brushing the strands of hair that covered your face behind your ear. “Now that’s stupid, you’re one of the smartest girls I know.”

You snort shoving his hand away from you, “You said I was an excellent dancer and look at where that got us.”

“You are an excellent dancer, love. You just doubt yourself.” He gets up from the bed and holds his hand out for you. “Let’s try again?”

You glance at him then at his hand before finally giving in. You grasp his hand, using it as leverage to help yourself off the bed. Tom smiles proudly at you, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, “That’s my girl.”

~⏰~

Since standing beside each other was not doing the trick, Tom decided that he would try standing behind you. With your back against his chest, he outstretched his hands to hold onto your arms and guide them.

“Right, so we’re swinging this way, that way, then we go around and swing again.” Tom explained as he puppets your arms in those directions. You stare at yourself in the mirror and repeat Tom’s words to yourself. Tom glances at you from your shoulder, where his chin rested, seeing the gears shifting in your brain.

“Ok, we swing twice, then go around once, and swing again.”

Tom hums at you in response, “Yeah, you’ve got that part down.” He takes your left arm and brings it to your right shoulder, then your right arm to your left shoulder.

“After the swing we go chest, chest, so that it makes an x.” Tom continues to explain. You nod along, making mental notes to yourself. Suddenly, you jump, taking Tom by surprise.

“What happened?”

“I know the next move!” You beamed, shaking your arms from his grip and forming a heart with them. “After the X, we make a heart, and then it’s that shimmy thing.”

The grin on Tom’s face made the corners of his eyes crinkle and made his pearly whites twinkle at you, “Yeah, that’s right! Can you show me the stuff we’ve rehearsed so far?”

You purse your lips at yourself in the mirror, going over the mental notes you took in your head. The opening steps involved a little skipping in place while you punched the air three times; two punches on the left and one on the right. Then that would lead into the swinging, then the chests that make an X, the heart and shimmy.

“You remember darling, don’t doubt yourself.” He motivates you.

You jump around your spot and shake your limbs out, “Alright, I think I’m good.”

“Go for it, love.” Tom nods at you as he stands to the side with his hands on his hips, almost like a dance instructor or some teacher.

“I’m gonna sing the lyrics out, it helps.” You comment. Tom waves you off, “Whatever makes you comfortable.”

“So it’s—so tonight I’ll sing another,” You skip and do the punches.

“Another break up song,” You transition into the arm’s choreography, swinging them and going around once. You jump so your legs are together and do the X with your arms over you chest. You make the heart and do the shimmies, squealing excitedly when you finally get all the steps done correctly.

“I DID IT!” You happily yell jumping into Tom’s arms. He catches you right on time with just as much cheerfulness as you.

“I KNOW, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!” He cheers making you both jump in celebration. You hug him tightly, continuously thanking him. Without Tom, you probably would’ve never learned the dance properly and would have given up the moment you felt like it. But thankfully, you had a loving boyfriend who never gave up on you. No matter how much you drove him mad.

“Seriously Tom, thank you for helping me. You didn’t have to, but I really appreciate it.” You tell him once he places you back on the ground.

“It’s no trouble, especially for you, I’d do anything for you.” He grins pecking your lips. You hum against his soft lips pulling him back in to meet yours again.

“Let’s just hope I can still remember this till tomorrow.” 

Tom chuckles against your lips, “Darling we aren’t even done yet, that was just the first bit.” You pull away from him, mouth agape, “Wait there’s more?”

[hangekitty]

I love that Er*n is in your no no rules- lmao.

Also may i request some soft Miche headcanons where he's comforting a female reader please? I've been very stressed from life recently and would really appreciate a bit of love and comfort from my fav character, smut is optional although i am above 18. Thank you so much in advance💛

Oh my gosh my first request thank you! And what a lovely way to start things out, I hope this brings comfort to you as I know how hard things are in life right now! And yes, we don’t accept Er*n in this house no thank you ~ 🌸

Did I listen to Bubble Gum by Clairo on loop because of the vibes? Maybe. Did I get upset writing this because I am touch starved? Also maybe 😌

Miche comforting his S/O after a bad day

Genre: fluff, NSFW 18+

Warnings: mentions of having a bad day, mental health, smut, swearing

Universe: canonverse

NSFW below the ‘read more’

SFW

Although Miche is a man of few words, he definitely knows how to show you how much he cares.

This man is a master of being able to sense whenever you’ve had a bad day, you wouldn’t even need to tell him; I suppose its because of his immaculate sense of smell, or that he takes good care to be finely in tune with your emotions.

Most of your worries and stresses stem from expeditions, having to fight off titans and watching your comrades fall certainly took a toll on your mental health; this at least was a stress you could share with Miche.

Miche’s love language is touch, so although he isn’t much of a talker, he would still want you to know that he is there for you all the same. This may look like hugs from behind, forehead kisses and holding you close to him whenever he can.

If you’re both standing, he will most definitely be the kind of guy to cuddle you and gently rock you - not quite a dance, but something that helps calm you down.

There is 110% chance that if he starts rocking you, he will rest his head on yours and hum a tune to you

Will ask Levi for your favourite kind of tea, another love language of his is acts of service. So bringing you tea, tidying your room or even cleaning your clothes without asking is a way of him showing how much he cares about you; the last thing you want to do is chores so he would run you a bath (if baths are available) and he would do the smaller things that would usually be too much effort.

Just because he is very quiet, doesn’t mean he won’t talk to you. He is more of a listener, but if you need words of affirmation or advice Miche is on it and usually says the right things. All this time of him being quiet, he has every opportunity of thinking up something to say.

Are you prone to nightmares? Miche has your back. Quite literally, he will roll over and hold you close to him. He is definitely the big spoon and will make sure to make you feel as safe and comfortable as possible.

In public, if Miche notices you tensing or begin to fluster out of stress or anger, he will hold your hand. He isn’t much for PDA, however he will push himself in situations where you need him. He would often take you out of a situation or to another room and hold your hands close to his chest, rubbing your hands with his thumbs and looking in your eyes.

Bedtime is the best time for cuddles, here he will give you the maximum affection of kisses, hugs and tickling sessions.

He will stroke your hair until you fall asleep, even if he is in an uncomfortable position, once he knows you are asleep he won’t budge.

Miche has a habit of holding you close to him when you are stressed and smelling your hair or rubbing his stubble on your exposed neck. You can’t help but giggle, even when sometimes you wanna be angry, this man never fails to make you smile.

If you suffer with panic attacks, Miche knows exactly what to do to help you. Whether grounding helps, giving you space or words of affirmations this man has it together and will do whatever he can to help. At first he might of been a nervous wreck, anxious to make sure he gets it right, but as you trust him, you tell him how he can help in that situation and Miche learns it and etches it into his brain.

“There’s my girl”

Bunny kisses! Lots of bunny kisses!

Random modern day AU head canon: this dude would turn on his LED lights and put on soft LoFi tunes on to calm you down!

NSFW

Sometimes when you are stressed, you require other means of ‘letting go’

Miche knows exactly what to do, but will wait for your social queues to make the first move

It’ll start off as giving you massages, touching you in all of your sensitive, aching areas.

You will most likely make some remarks that are passive aggressive (and suggestive) which makes Miche kinda /ZING/

He is the kind of guy who would come up behind you and lift your breasts up and claim “these are heavy, let me help you carry them” or some shit, even though you are clearly frustrated, this usually earns an annoyed giggle or two.

He will let you take control, if you have a particularly stressful day and all you want to do is have angry sex, he will let you take the reins or call all the shots. Honestly, any other time he would let you take control anyway, seeing you be so passionate is a real turn on; but given such a stressful day its sort of expected - unless you just want him to fuck you silly, he will happily oblige.

I don’t care what anyone else says but this man is canon a master of oral. With a nose like that, you could not convince me he wouldn’t use it to his full advantage okay??

He is more a giver than a receiver, so Miche would be in his personal heaven whilst giving you head. He particularly likes it when you’ve had a bad day to surprise you and lower you onto his face, you will probably squirm out of embarrassment but as soon as you’d gain your confidence he would go in hard; enjoying every bit of view he has.

If you are feeling particularly low due to a bad day, he will set up the bed with lots of pillows/blankets and have you lay down, legs open and him laying between them, licking at your pussy.

Miche is a thigh guy, a man of taste. Will leave kisses up and around your thighs before going anywhere near your pussy. He probably enjoys the smell whilst he’s down there, admiring your soft flesh and kissing every inch of you.

If you want to be in control, lets say you have a frustrating day, you would ride him. Heck, he wouldn’t even mind if you wanted to peg him. This man is up for anything and would do anything to please you.

If you want him to be in control, you’ve definitely unleashed an animal. As I’ve mentioned before, he is a giver and if he knows you’ve had a bad day, oh boy this man will do all he can to help you forget your troubles. Rough but steady is his strategy.

I promise you after a night with him in control, you won’t even remember what stress feels like.

Expect some marks, this man is a sucker and a nibbler, especially on your neck and breasts.

King of aftercare, lots of hugs and kisses; will also clean you up after any messes made.

If Miche is not a man of many words, he has them all for you in that moment. Telling you he loves you, how much you mean to him and how sorry he is that you had a bad day. “Today might have been hard, but tomorrow is another day my love”

“I’ll be right here”

I hope you enjoyed! Thanks so much for the request 🌸

[ncssian]

i wrote another oneshot to avoid doing my homework these are kind of addictive lmao

---

"and what do you deserve?"

nessian modern au; 1,441 words

mostly fluff but also cassian being defensive of nesta and getting mad at the ic

Nesta had been asleep for so long that Cassian could no longer feel his legs. He refused to shift underneath her, scared of waking her up, and contented himself with running his fingers through her hair instead.

She'd come into the living room of their holiday cabin about an hour earlier and crawled atop him without any words, her only intention that of taking a nap. She was dressed in her lavender flannel nightgown, the one that made her look like a little girl again, claiming she couldn't sleep without him.

Now, as he stared down at her too-perfect face, furrowed even in sleep, the insecurities he kept hidden so well from her rushed to the forefront of his thoughts.

She had always been so beautiful—not just in her looks, which were the first thing most people noticed, but in her heart and mind. Cassian loved those the most. Like a boy studying the inner workings of a clocktower, he loved taking his time to figure out how she thought and dreamed and felt of things. What he discovered was always surprising, each unveiled fact about her a gift. And yet, it could never escape his notice that the only reason he was surprised by Nesta was because he could never know her. Not fully and completely in the way she deserved, at least. He would always be asking more questions, always stumble just a little when it came to navigating her mind.

Cassian felt the overwhelming urge to voice these insecurities aloud.

"Did you know," he started softly, hesitantly, "my biggest fear is that one day you'll find someone who understands you better than me?"

He was met with silence, of course.

"And the worst part is," he continued, "I don't know if I'd be selfless enough to be happy for you if that day ever came. Because even when you clearly deserve more than me, I can't help but hate whoever is out there that could make you happier than I do."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Nesta used Cassian's chest to push herself into a sitting position.

Cassian jerked in surprise, not expecting Nesta to have woken up at his whispers.

"I—" he stuttered. After some moments of struggling, he finally said, "It's the truth."

Nesta's sharp eyes narrowed on Cassian in that way they did whenever he was about to be proven thoroughly wrong. "Did you know when we first got together, my sister and your friends took me aside and less-than-vaguely told me to leave you because I would only weigh you down and ruin your life?" She said it all in one rushed breath like she'd been challenged to a debate.

Cassian nearly sat upright, but Nesta's hands kept him pinned in place. "They did what?" Rage, fiery and directionless, flooded him in a hot rush. That was part-lie; his fury did have a direction. "Why is this the first I'm hearing of this?"

"Because it's an embarrassing thing to share." Nesta wasn't backing down on this. "And at the beginning of our relationship, I didn't exactly want to give you ideas."

Cassian was hurt, hurt and offended that she could believe those words even for a second. He was even more offended that his own family were the perpetrators.

He pretended to be calm for Nesta's sake. "Who exactly said that to you?" He forced an even tone. "I want names."

Nesta shrugged. "Feyre, Rhys, Amren..." she trailed off. "They're not the point. The point is I know they're wrong, even if I don't always feel like it." She shrugged again, but this time an ounce of self-consciousness slipped under her brave demeanor. "So stop pretending like you invented insecurities," her voice quickly turned berating, "because that mini-monologue might have been the dumbest shit I've ever heard."

Beneath his lingering anger, Cassian's chest warmed. Nesta only called him an idiot when she was feeling especially fierce in her affections. Harsh reprimands were her aggressive way of letting people know she cared, and though it was one of the first things he'd ever found out and wholly accepted about her, some people still refused to see the difference between her declarations of love and her declarations of hate.

Some people like his own friends and family.

"Okay," Cassian relented. "Let's assume for a moment that I was wrong, and there's no one out there that could possibly be better for you than me."

"It's not an assumption." Nesta pushed her shoulders back. "You were wrong."

She was so convincing, Cassian nearly believed her. Maybe with time he would.

"That still leaves what you told me. And even if you're okay with it now, I'm not."

"I don't expect you to be," Nesta said. "But I don't want you thinking about other people when this weekend is for us. I didn't drive all the way out to a mountain in the middle of Nowhere, Colorado so you could worry about them."

Nesta's refusal to say their names told him enough about how she felt on the matter. But also, she was right. The last thing Cassian wanted to do was think about anything that wasn't Nesta. Especially not when she was on top of him in that stupid nightgown.

"Alright," he gave in. "What would you rather I worry about, Nesta?" His hands skimmed the hem of the gown that had gotten bunched up around her bare knees.

Her gaze turned predatory, and in the next moment her nightgown fell to the floor.

Cassian didn't think about much after that.

***

Nesta and Cassian were in the middle of cooking dinner later that night when Cassian's phone buzzed. He narrowed his eyes at the name on the screen.

"Let me get this," he said, wiping his hands on a dishtowel and making his way to their bedroom for privacy.

In the dimness of their room, he answered Rhysand's call. "What," he said flatly.

"Hello to you, too," Rhys drawled. "You ever planning on leaving that cabin or should we not expect you home for Christmas?"

Cassian didn't have the patience for bantering with his brother, but he also knew this wasn't the time to tear Rhys a new asshole. That conversation would have to wait until they returned home.

"I'm actually thinking of extending our stay," Cassian said through his clenched jaw. "Nesta mentioned something today about 'weighing me down' and feeling like a burden, and it's really got me concerned."

"...Has it?"

"It has. I mean where would she get such a bullshit idea from, you know? I clearly haven't been spending enough time with her if that's what she thinks of herself." Cassian wondered if he could choke someone with passive-aggressiveness. "So yeah, now I have to spend the whole weekend telling my girlfriend I love her." He sighed as if this was a huge hardship for him. "We'll probably be here for the rest of the week. Might not even make it back for Christmas if I feel like keeping her to myself."

Rhys cleared his throat, and Cassian hoped he felt uncomfortable. "Good for you, man. If that's what you're dead-set on."

"It is."

Rhys didn't have much to say after that, but the slightest bit of Cassian's need for revenge had eased. If his family couldn't like Nesta, the least they could do was know how much he loved her. Cassian hung up without saying goodbye back and tossed his phone onto the bed.

He hadn't been planning on extending his and Nesta's cabin retreat before his conversation with Rhys, but the plans he'd made up on the spot over the phone were looking undeniably appealing. Maybe they would skip Christmas this year, and only share presents with each other in bed.

Cassian returned to the kitchen to find Nesta struggling to wrangle a dangerously sticky, soggy lump of dough. She looked up at him apologetically as he entered. "I tried cooking without you," she said, sounding defeated.

"Even though you knew what would come out of it?" Cassian was already pushing his sleeves up to save her attempt at dough.

"How hard can dough be? I have to get it eventually, right?"

Cassian had to hold down a smile at his girlfriend's cooking skills. "You should wash your hands," was all he said. She was up to her elbows in the weird sticky mixture.

"Right, Cassian?" Nesta repeated, waiting for affirmation.

Cassian couldn't lie, so he settled for a kiss on the forehead and the truth. "You'll never have to worry about cooking as long as you have me, sweetheart."

[swiss-cheeze]

(The Candyman Can) Rainbow Connection || Spencer Reid

Request: YES/NO // a part 2 was requested but I was going to do a part 2 anyway so, yeah. (@l0ve-0f-my-life)

Gender: none, they/them // I don’t believe there is any description, I tried to keep it nonchalant, the Sunflower song may be slightly suggestive because it’s sung by a female and have the aspects of femininity but overall is a non-gender affirming song.

Warnings: uhhh, slow burn, awkwardness? I honestly don’t know SEASON 8 SPOILERS, very long; seven pages on google doc lmao

Description: ten months after Maeves death you’re still singing for Spencer to help him cope, what happens when Garcia’s Dia De Muertos party brings to light your feelings?

Part 1: https://snitchthewitch.tumblr.com/post/621248749527760896/the-candyman-can-spencer-reid

Songs used:

It’s My Life - Bon Jovi

Hey There Delilah - Plain White T’s

Sunflower - Sierra Burgess

Rainbow Connection - The Muppets

———

Ten months.

It had been ten months since Maeve had left, ten months since a part of Spencer felt broken, crumpled and gone.

Ten months since you entered his life in a different way then he would ever think.

After your singing sessions things started to look better, brighter, lighter and happier.

Currently yourself and Spencer were jamming out in his apartment to It's My Life.

“It's my life! And it's now or never!” you screamed and jumped on the couch, Spencer followed you with a laugh and shouted at the top of his lungs.

“'Cause I ain't gonna live forever, I just want to live while I'm alive” Spencer sang, you grinned as you hoped down from the couch, grabbed his hands and started dancing.

“My heart is like an open highway, like Frankie said, ‘i did it my way’!” you grinned as Spencer spun you around and stepped onto the coffee table.

“I just want to live while I'm alive,” Spencer sang as you hopped up and onto the table next to the Doctor.

“ITS, MY, LIFE!” you exclaimed together and posed on the table as if there was a crowd gathered and you had just danced your hearts out; which you did. Your breathing was heavy as you let out a large laugh and jogged over to the CD player to turn it down as the next song came on from your playlist, going from a room shattering volume to a whisper.

“Drink?” Spencer asked with heavy breaths as he pointed to the kitchen, you nodded as you held your back and sat on the couch, Spencer came back a moment later with two glasses of water and handed one to you as you sat in the blissful aftermath of a singing and dance off.

“Are you going to Garcias Day of the Dead party?” you asked after a moment, it wasn't very risky to ask but it was still touchy as you both knew the background to the question. Spencer nodded.

“Yeah, yeah I am, I'm meant to be helping her with groceries sometime, she said she’d message me when she was ready” Spencer smiled as he placed the empty cup on the table and laid back against the couch cushions, “who are you bringing?” Spencer hesitantly asked as you grinned.

“I can't tell you that Spence, it's cheating” you shook your head before putting your cup down on the table and opening your phone to look at the time; you were meant to be home 10 minutes ago, “shit, sorry Spence i gotta head,” you said as you quickly gathered your belongings.

“Do you have to leave?” Spencer asked, he sounded so sad that you needed to leave, you bit your lip as you opened the door.

“I’m sorry Spence, i do, i've um…” should you tell him? “I've got a date,” you said with a tight lipped smile. Spencer hoped his face didn't convey the emotions he felt and hoped you didn't notice his change in demeanor.

“Oh, yeah of course,” Spencer said tightly, “you head ill...ill clean up here,”

“Thanks Spence, i'll see you at work!” you said with a grin and waved the Doctor a goodbye. The retreating of your footsteps seemed to echo in the surrounding walls of Spencer's apartment and his mind, your smile was flashing in his and out of his head a thousand times over in bright flashes as the room suddenly felt rather lonely and cold without your presence in it anymore. Spencer looked around the room as he felt his shoulders sag, emotions came back to him as well as memories of Maeve, Tobias, Nathan and multiple other people who impacted his life in some way, in a way of his work and in a way that's personal.

Alex.

Of course!

Spencer scrambled for his phone and clicked on Blake's personal cell number. It rang three times before the woman's voice floated through.

“Ried? Is everything okay?” the worry in Blake's voice floated through the speakers as Spencer took a breath.

“I…” Spencer sighed softly and sniffled, god was he going to cry again? “I think im in love...again”

“Oh Spence,”

---

You smiled tightly as your date talked about...what was he talking about again?

“And that's how I found out my family was a part of the mafia group in the nineteen hundreds!” the date exclaimed, oh god had you forgotten his name already?

“Thats,” you gave a fake laugh as real as you could, “that's amazing Matt!” you said with a clap of your hands.

“My name’s Michael…” your date reminded you, you sighed and put your head in your hands with a groan.

“I'm sorry-”

“No it's...I can tell your head is somewhere else,” your date said with a smile, “did you want to talk about it?” he asked, you bit your lip before responding.

“One of my coworkers…” should you be telling a story that isn't yours to tell? “One of my coworkers lost someone close to them ten months ago,” you started the story, you can't stop now, “and to be a good friend I started to sing for him!” you said happily, using your hands to talk, “i started singing for him because it made me happy when i was a child and i thought it would cheer him up as well, in the end it did and it helped him get better and obviously he is better but...that was ten months ago,” you sighed, “Micheal it was ten months ago that he lost what could possibly be his only love and here i am...in love with him,”

“Oh doll,” Micheal said softly as he put his hand on top of yours, “what do you mean his only love?” the man asked, “just so i can get a better understanding and idea of the situation,” he smiled politely.

“Hes...he has an eidetic memory, can read 20,000 words a minute, he has 3 PhDs and 3 Bachelors, he doesn't get along well with women in the romance scene a lot of the time but he's just...he's just so smart and he's so lovely and kind and works well with everyone,” you took a breath as you wiped a tear from your eye you didn't realise had leaked, “he puts himself on the line all the time; he’s been shot in the knee, shot in the shoulder, he got kidnapped and drugged, poisoned with a worse strain of Anthrax then actual anthrax, he's such a good hostage speaker, he delves into every case with everything he has as if its his last which it could possibly be, he helped a young boy, Nathan Harris, when he believed he was going to become a serial killer an-”

“Woah woah woah baby slow down,” Micheal said as he looked to you, “you’re getting so worked up over this boy, i mean, he's just a boy,” Micheal said with a grin, “you sing for him don't you?”

“Yeah I do,” you absentmindedly smiled, “it's amazing, just today we sung It’s My Life before I came here,” you said with a large grin, the memory still fresh.

“Okay so, how about, instead, you lean it to more romantic songs? Slowly give him hints and open up to him more?” Micheal questioned, you never actually thought of that but as you mulled it over it sounded a lot better than any other plan you would have had brewed anway. You nodded.

“Thats...thats really good Micheal,” you said with a grin, “thank you,”

“It’s alright; if i can't be the one then i'll help you with him,” Micheal said with a joking grin. You ended the night with the waitress coming over to take your plates as you asked for the bill, split it, giving a lovely tip and Micheal driving you home. He planted a kiss on your cheek before handing you his number on a napkin, “for whenever and whatever you want or need,” he had said, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and a thank you before retreating into your house and mulling over the next few songs to sing for Spencer whenever he wanted.

---

A few days passed after your date and Spencers emotional outburst to Blake (which she kept to herself and Spencer of course), you had been given a case and hadn't had time to sing to Spencer; you could tell this was taking a little toll on the poor doctor as he became distracted easily as well as the far off gaze he had on his face a lot of the time now, however, the plane had just landed back in DC.

“Spence!” you called for the doctor, he turned for a moment and slowed his walking for you to catch up, “did you want me to call tonight?” you asked with a grin.

“Yes please (Y/n),” the doctor said, he seemed sad but also desperate.

“Are you alright?” you questioned as you stopped the doctor with your hand on his arm, “i'm here for you,”

“I’ll be alright after tonight (Y/n), it's okay,” and without another word Spencer left you, spoke to Hotch for a second and then headed out the door.

“Are you two okay?” Blake asked as she came up next to you.

“I think so, I think it’s just because we haven't had a lot of time recently for our normal sessions,” you said with a tight smile.

“He misses you (Y/n),” Blake said, “a lot more than you know,” the two of you dropped the subject pretty quickly after that as you walked to the parking lots and headed home, the road seemed to go in a blur as you drove, forming colours and paint strokes against the harsh greys of the DC city buildings.

---

Another few days passed and your singing sessions went back to normal, except this time you added more romantic songs, adding a more soft tone or even adding your uke like one of the first times you sang for Spencer, and right now you were finishing off Hey There Delilah.

“Hey there, Spencer,” you had changed the lyrics for the last ‘hey there’, you heard Spencer give off a little breathy laugh, “You be good, and don't you miss me, two more years and you'll be done with school,” you couldn't help but laugh slightly at the school part seeing as Spencer had...well you know what he’s got, “And I'll be makin' history like I do. You know it's all because of you…” you trailed the end of your sentence off slightly, “We can do whatever we want to…” you sighed softly, “hey there, Spencer, here’s to you,” you trailed off again as you felt tears well in your eyes as you spoke the last words instead of singing them, “This one's for you” and with that the song ended and you smiled into the phone, Spencer clapped loudly into the phone’s speaker.

“That was beautiful (Y/n)!” the doctor exclaimed with a smile, “I haven't heard that song before,” you laughed, of course he hadn't heard the song before.

“It's a classic but not the type of classic you know of,” you said with a smile as you heard Spencer laugh along with you too, “I’m sorry Spence but i have to get to bed,” you sounded so sad.

“Right, of course,” Spencer said as he finally glanced at the clock, god it was past 12 already? You'd been on a call together since 10, “goodnight (Y/n), i'll see you at Garcias tomorrow?” Spencer asked, shit. You'd forgotten about tomorrow completely.

“Y-yeah of course! I'll be there don't worry,” you smiled into the phone, “goodnight Spence” and with that you hung up the phone and got ready for bed. Spencer did the same in his apartment.

---

You smiled sweetly at Spencer as he placed Maeve's photo on the altar as everyone gave him a sympathetic look and then another person's photo.

“This is uh, Nikola Tesla,” he said, you couldn't help but smile, “i just hope he's still having fun inventing things wherever he is” Spencer said with the little smile and laugh he does every now and then as he stepped back from the alter; allowing you to place your photo. You gulped as you fiddled with the photographic paper.

“This uh,” you started, nobody actually knew who this was, you sniffled as Garcia held you hand and you smiled to her as thanks for the reassurance, you cleared your throat, “this is Gene Wilder,” you grinned as Spencer chuckled softly, of course it was him, “i don't uh, i don't really have any family that i'm close to that has passed but, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory has always been my childhood, it was always close to my heart and when the movie came out i fell in love with it even more and the more i watched it the more i felt Gene Wilder become apart of me, my family and my life.” you took a breath as you placed the photo onto the altar, it was of his iconic Willy Wonka pose, “of course he has become a meme icon,” you laughed as everyone did too, “but i know for a fact he looks at everyone from wherever he is and he looks at them with such passion and love and admiration for whatever they're doing and i know he fills me with hope and confidence whenever i need it” you smiled as you finished and stepped back and the line continued.

You all gave your thanks, gave a blessing or a prayer depending on who it was, sent your respects and then went your way with drinks and conversations and music. Spencer smiled as he came up to you when Hotch walked away, your conversation about Henry becoming dwindled as the food looked more appetizing to Hotch.

“Hey,” Spencer said with a little wave as he held a cup of...cordial?

“Are you really drinking cordial Spencer?” you asked with a laugh as Spencer nodded.

“Believe it or not cordial is a lot healthier than wine,” Spencer spoke with a laugh as he stated the obvious, you smiled as well but it was tight, “are you okay?” you nodded.

“Yeah i'll be alright,” you said quietly, where was this sad emotion suddenly coming from?

“Considering the circumstances it's okay to be sad (Y/n)” Spencer commented as he saw your saddened expression but before he could say anything else you put on a fake smile.

“Spence i promise, im okay” you said with fake confidence, “promise” you held out your hand for the doctor and took his warm palm in his, you could tell Spencer didn't believe you but nodded anyway, but your whole demeanor changed as soon as the song did and you grinned, “dance with me Spencer?” you asked as you set down your wine and dragged the poor doctor to the ‘dance floor’.

“N-no i'm not really- i haven't ever-” Spencer stuttered but with your glowing smile and laugh he found himself not finding the words to excuse himself before nodding and placing his drink down on the nearest surface. You brought the doctor close to your body and rested your head in his neck as his arms wrapped around your waist hesitantly and yours wrapped around his neck, you danced in a slow circle as the rest of the team gave suggestive glances to each other.

“Rose girls in glass vases, perfect bodies, perfect faces, they all belong in magazines” your voice floated through the air softly and Spencers voice hitched, “Those girls the boys are chasing, winning all the games they're playing, they're always in a different league” you continued to sing and sway with Spencer, his grip tightened on you as he buried his face into your hair as Hotch pulled Alex in for a dance, Rossi with J.J. and Derek and Garcia all walked to the dance floor; slow dancing and holding one another softly as your voice continued, “Stretching toward the sky like I don't care, wishing you could see me standing there” god was that directed to Spencer? It was, wasn't it? Spencer bit his lip at the thought as he continued swaying as he looked up for a second and saw everyone else slow dancing, a smile gracing his lips as your voice flowed through the air again, “But I'm a sunflower, a little funny, If I were a rose, maybe you'd want me” your voice wavered as you buried your face into Spencers neck, “If I could, I'd change overnight, I'd turn into something you'd like but i'm a,” your voice came out a little stronger now as you looked up and saw your co-workers now switching dance partners; Rossi with Hotch (which made you laugh a little), J.J. and Derek, and Alex with Garcia, “sunflower, a little funny, if I were a rose, maybe you'd pick me” your voice sighed at the end as you broke away from Spencers neck to look at the beautiful man in front of you, wording the lyrics to him, “But I know you don't have a clue, this sunflower's waiting for you,” both of you leant in as your eyes darted to Spencers mouth, his eyes doing the same to yours as he licked his lips without realisation, “Waiting for you” with your mouths inches apart and your eyelids slowly closing, you could feel Spencers breath fanning over your lips...almost...almost…

“(Y/n) that's a beautiful voice you have!” Alex exclaimed, the song continued in the background as yourself and Spencer jumped away from each other, smiling awkwardly as you wiped your sweaty palms on your hips and thighs. Your teammates all broke away from each other; Blake must have been the only one to see and realise what was going to happen, you looked to Alex with a mix of emotions including anger and appreciation; anger because she stopped you and Spencer from kissing, appreciation because she stopped you and Spencer kissing in front of the others.

“Thanks…” you smiled as you scratched the back of your head with an awkward smile, “well i gotta start heading!” you exclaimed suddenly, the crushing feeling in your chest getting too much for you to stay.

“Ohhh what what what?” Garcia asked as she came forward, “oh come on i can get the blow up mattress, we can all sleep here, take tomorrow off; Hotch we can take tomorrow off can't we?” Garcia suddenly exclaimed, you all smiled as did Hotch but he didn't say a word; Garcia was tipsy, if not already drunk.

“It’s okay Penelopie really,” you said with a smile as you walked to the girl and hugged her close, “i'll see you guys tomorrow though,” you smiled as you hugged everyone, of course Spencer being the last.

“I’ll drive you home,” Spencer said quickly as he picked up your coat as well as his, you stuttered as Spencer opened Garcia's door but decided against it; instead blushing and thanking Spencer as the two of you walked out of the apartment building and to Spencers old timey wimey car.

“Think those two will realise?” Derek said off-handedly with a knowing grin.

“They’re profilers, they'll figure it out,” Rossi said with a grin.

-------

Yourself and Spencer had already discussed you would sleepover at his house in case you got drunk or tipsy off of wine, that and the fact you used public transport to get to Garcias rather than a car and Spencer didn't want you to go onto the tubes at this time at night.

“No, Spence, I already told you I'm not taking your bed!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you got a drink from Spencer's kitchen.

“(Y/n) please, my couch is complete rubbish and i know!” Spencer exclaimed from his bedroom where he was getting dressed in. You scoffed jokingly.

“Oh yeah Spencer, you've slept on your couch you germaphobe” you said with a smile as you walked to Spencer's bedroom.

“I did! When…” as you entered the bedroom the air turned cold as Spencers smile fell, you looked at him from across the room in all of his shirtless-and-low-hanging-pyjama-pants glory, he cleared his throat, “when Maeve…” he choked as his sentence drained off the way it does when Spencer is emotional and about to cry.

“Oh, Spence im...im sorry i didn't think,” you said softly, you stayed in the doorway unsure of what to do. Spencer cleared his throat as he threw his side of the covers back and started to get into the bed.

“Please?” Spencer questioned, you knew what he wanted as he bunched the sheets at his waist and played with his fingers while looking at the covers, you nodded. Whether Spencer saw you nod or not you weren't sure but you went through the same motions as you would when going to bed; brushed your teeth in Spencer's connected bathroom, tugged off your work clothes, put on your pyjamas as Spencer waited patiently in the bed, unmoving. Your feet padded on the floor as you brought back the covers on the other side of Spencer and sat on the bed next to him, the covers bunched up around your waist as you waited, waited for Spencer to lay down, hold your hand, something.

And then he did.

“Spencer i know-”

“Can you sing for me?” Spencer suddenly asked, his voice on the verge of breaking as he looked to you with teary eyes, you nodded quickly and began to smile.

“Yeah, yeah of course i can Spencer,” you said quickly, “did you want to get under the covers?” you asked softly, Spencer nodded and sniffled softly as the two of you maneuvered to lay down. You laid on your back as Spencer clutched onto you, his head rested on your chest as your arm wrapped around his back and to his shoulder, “what do we want tonight?” you asked in a soft voice into Spencer's hair.

“Anything, anything happy,” Spencer mumbled into your chest, you nodded and thought for a moment.

“Why are there so many, songs about rainbows, and what's on the other side” you started to sing, Spencer doesn't know the muppets very well but he has heard this song play in your headphone while on the jet home after a tough case once or twice, this was the second song you used to calm yourself down next to The Candy Man, “Rainbows are visions, they're only illusions, and rainbows have nothing to hide” your voice was soft and filtered through the air as Spencer closed his eyes, envisioning himself in a wonderful forest, just like Kermit the frog with you by his side, your uke in your arms, the cords coming through seamlessly, “So we've been told and some chose to believe it, but I know they're wrong wait and see” you squeezed Spencer softly as you started on the chorus, “Someday we'll find it, The Rainbow Connection” you tilted Spencers chin up from your chest and moved back from Spencer a little so he wasn't arched weirdly nor where you bent weirdly, “The lovers,” you pointed a finger into your own chest, “the dreamers,” you pointed a finger into Spencers chest as he smiled softly, his tears dripping into the creases of his smile, “and me” you cuddled back into Spencer as his arms tightly wrapped around you again.

“Who said that every wish,” Spencer's soft voice filtered in the air, you smiled and hummed the instrumentals, “Would be heard and answered, when wished on the morning star” you smiled and kissed Spencer's head again and joined in with singing.

“Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it, look what it’s done so far” you shrugged jokingly as if the ‘look what it's done so far’ was someone really saying it, a soft chuckle came from Spencer, “What's so amazing,” you shrugged again as you looked to Spencer, “that keeps us stargazing, what do we think we might see?” you brought your unwrapped arm up towards the ceiling and cupped it around as if you were cupping Spencers chin, “Someday we’ll find it,” you looked back down to Spencer as your arm came down as well, “The Rainbow Connection,” you cupped Spencers cheek as you moved forward, Spencer doing the same as he looked down to your lips like he did at Garcias before gliding back up to your eyes, “The lovers,” you cocked a small smile as the lyrics came out in a whisper, “The dreamers,” you tapped Spencer cheek softly as the gap finally closed and your lips pressed against Spencers for a short moment before you both pulled back slowly, “And me”

[softyoongiionly]

🍬Sour Skittles: Part Two 🍬

Sour Skittles

WELCOME TO GLASSCLAW! The only city where you can get a homecooked meal and a hitman all on the same street! You moved to GlassClaw for a fresh start after a group of raiders invaded your previous compound. Unbeknownst to you, the city has its own collection of riff raff and, at the head of it all is your neighbor Min Yoongi. The mischevious merchant with one hell of a sailor mouth is known for swindling the rich and, serving the poor. The world has become convoluted and chaotic since the apocalypse but, two things were certain: You were so much more than pretty face and, Yoongi was so much more than just a thief.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I got really inspired to do a little update for this after watching a ton of videos about the French Revolution lmao. I hope you guys like it!

Genre: Dystopian Au, RobinHood! Yoongi, smut, fluff, minor angst, post apocalyptic au

The heat is unbearable. 

It sticks to you like a thick and intrusive warm cloak.

You’re spread eagle on your mattress, completely naked except for a pair of underwear and, a loose fitting t shirt. The idea of fabric clinging to you is revolting enough to make you wretch and, you’re now seriously considering taking another cold shower.

This would be your third one today.

Fuck AstroLex honestly.

The hegemonic superpower that runs Glassclaw shut off everyone’s AC as punishment for the recent raid of one of their many storage places.

The Underground is clearly responsible but, AstroLex lacks the evidence to bindict anyone. This was usually the case, the raiders who worked for The Underground are too good and, they usually commit their robberies without a trace.

This isn’t the first time AstroLex has implemented a city-wide punishment, last winter they turned off the heating for 6 days which led to a dozen people nearly dying of hypothermia.   

They didn’t care though. Their message had been received, their debts had been collected and, they could continue in their world.

Unapologetically unbothered.

AstroLex made an announcement earlier this morning that the AC would be turned off until further notice and, you assumed this meant until the raiders were turned in.

You audibly groan as you feel more sweat forming on the back of your neck, the feeling nearly vomit-inducing. The only way you knew to alleviate your suffering would be to live in your freezer and, given that it’s much too small, you concede that your only option is a slow and painful death.

A knock at your door interrupts you both in it’s volume and it’s intensity. Another pained groan passes your lips as you drag yourself off of your bed. The knocking gets more persistent as you make your way to the door.

“I’m coming!” You call, annoyed at the intrusion.

Swinging the door open, you are met with the one person who could make your day more difficult: Min Yoongi.

“Took you long enough…” He smirks, leaning against your door frame. His minty green hair is dripping wet and, he’s dressed in only a gray pair of torn jeans, black boxers peeking over the band of them.

“Don’t you own a shirt?”

He snickers, “It’s a thousand degrees outside, do you want me to die of heat exhaustion?”

“Definitely not, I’d loose out on my reward, they raised it again today…$40,000…” You cross your arms, fighting the smile that’s trying to take over your lips.

Turns out, your suspicions regarding your neighbor had been correct. Yoongi was forced to out himself as an Underground worker when the AstroLex police had launched a full on investigation in your environ. In a desperate attempt to maintain his freedom, Yoongi came banging on your door at 3am, begging you not to turn him into the authorities. Yoongi belonged to a particularly stealthy and ruthless group of raiders known appropriately as “Robin Hoods.” So far, the Robin Hoods had been responsible for nearly 60% of all successful raids done on AstroLex’s resources and, given that their operations were so seamless, the police hadn’t been able to bring a single member in for questioning. However, AstroLex did announce a citywide call for intel which promised a hefty reward to anyone who had information regarding the group.

“I’m certainly worth more than $40,000, those bastards…” His eyes scan over you briefly, glinting with mischief, “You look like a drowned rat…”

You scoff, pushing against his bare chest, “Fuck you…”

He snickers again, nimble fingers clutching at your wrists, holding them against his chest, “I’m kidding, c’mon, I missed you…”

He’s so full of shit…

You roll your eyes at him, playfully tugging your hands away, “You missed me so much you came pounding on my door only to call me a drowned rat?”

“I’ve undergone a lot of childhood trauma, sweetheart, forgive me, I have hard time expressing my emotions…” He explains with a dramatic flair to his voice, slowly starting to lean in towards your lips.

“You’re shameless. “ You open your door wider, silently inviting him inside, “Did you bring what I asked for?”

Yoongi purses his lips through his smirk before shuffling into your apartment, “Are you referring to the stupid salt that I nearly died for? Yes, I brought what you asked for…”

He reaches into his canvas bag, pulling out a plastic box containing your requested item: Rock salt.

Eagerly, you take the box from his hands, already excited to utilize the stolen good which left Yoongi feeling very confused.

“The fuck do you need rock salt for anyway? Can’t you just use the stuff in a bottle?” He shuffles his bag back over his bare shoulder and, you shamelessly allow your eyes to ogle at the movements of Yoongi’s sinewy chest muscles.

“I use that salt for cooking but,” You move around him to make you’re way over to your fridge before pulling out a bottle of fresh cream, you’d bought from the a local dairy farm not far from your apartment.  “I’m using this one for homemade ice cream…the store bought stuff just isn’t the same.”

Yoongi wants to scoff at your response because; quite frankly he finds it a little ridiculous but, he doesn’t scoff, instead, he feels rather enamored. The modern world leaves very little room for a luxury like nostalgia but, for whatever reason, he feels a lot of it when he’s around you, you remind of him his past life….before everything went to shit.

“Are you making enough to share?” He smirks, hopping on your counter, his dirty combat boots scuffing against the wood.

“I’m not sharing anything with you if you don’t get off my counter…” You grumble, pushing against his jean clad leg, causing Yoongi to snicker as he obliges, choosing to lean back against the granite. “But yeah, I’ll make enough to share—you have to take some to Namjoon too though.”

“He’s lactose intolerant…”

You stop what you’re doing to throw a deadpan Yoongi’s way which only causes his mouth to twitch, a smirk threatening to break through, “I literally saw him shoving cheese pizza down his throat the other night. Share with him or you get nothing…”

Yoongi chuckles again, holding his hands up to concede with you, “Fine, I’ll share but, don’t expect it to be an even split. Namjoon’s job isn’t nearly as demanding as mine, I need my strength…”

With a roll of your eyes, you assemble some of the ice cubes into a large ceramic bowl, eyeing the dish rack for a spoon, “Do you even a day job or, are you a full time renegade?”

With a nod of his head he responds, his hand musing through his hair again, “I work at Electric Eel’s on the weekends…”

The fact that Yoongi works at a strip club shouldn’t affect you but, an odd sensation rolls through your stomach as you think of all of the beautiful women he must work with.

“The strip club right? How’s that going for you?”

Yoongi smirks again because, apparently, that’s the only facial expression he’s capable of, “It goes ok. I literally only wear a leather vest and leather pants so, the tips are pretty fucking good. Plus…I get to work with a bunch of hot people so, it’s a good gig.”

You swallow around a dry throat, trying very hard not to picture bartender Yoongi in an all leather outfit but, obviously you fail.

“Sounds like it…” You affirm casually, dumping a sizeable portion of ice cubes into a metal cylinder. “Do you know Jungkook?”

Yoongi tilts his head for a moment before nodding, “Yeah yeah, young kid right? He’s a dancer there…wait how do you know him?”

It’s your turn to smirk now, memories of Jungkook currently running an assault on your brain, “Uh…he’s an old friend of mine. Last I heard he got a job there so, I figured you would know him…”

Yoongi’s stomach tightens now, the smirk on your face telling him everything he didn’t want to know, “Just a friend?”

A flurry of butterflies courses through your gut as you think of all the fun you and Jungkook used to have, “Just friends yeah…”

There’s a bit of silence that moves between the two of you as Yoongi admires the way you lie to him.

He kind of wants to be a secret of yours too…

“Don’t worry…I hooked up with him too. He’s a hell of a lay…” Yoongi chuckles, his eyes alit with mischief and memories of his own.

The feel in your stomach drops lower now, towards the place between your legs. The bit of information Yoongi just shared certainly isn’t what you’re expecting but, you��d be lying if you said that thoughts of Yoongi and Jungkook together didn’t do a number on your resolve.

“He sure is…stamina for days…” You giggle, trying to center your thinking towards more appropriate topics, “Do you think they’ll turn the air on this week?”

Yoongi notices your hasty subject change but, he decides not to pester you, at least not for the moment, “Probably not. There was an uprising in Ricketts yesterday --I think Astro is worried we’re going to do the same. Gotta keep the leash tight…”

The news surprises you, there hadn’t been an uprising in your area of the world in quite some time. The last one, occurred four years ago in the nearby compound of Amex and, ended in a bloody battle that took the lives of nearly 2,000 people; the compound’s government executed the resistance leaders during a public broadcast.

Rebellion seemed less appealing after that but clearly, the fear of retaliation is quickly wearing off…

“Really? I had no idea…I didn’t hear anything about it, were they successful?”

An honest smile actually presents itself across Yoongi’s lips as he nods, knowing full well what Rickett’s victory could mean, “They overthrew their council. AstroLex sent in reinforcement but, their resistance held em off, they retreated this morning…”

This causes your eyes to widen, “Are you serious? That’s unbelievable, how did you hear about this? There’s no way they would have put this in the broadcast…”

Yoongi leans in, his eyes darting around your kitchen, lowering his voice significantly, “Don’t you find it strange that AstroLex is offering 40,000 for a bunch of petty thieves?”

He has a point.

AstroLex is worth millions.

But if he’s not just a thief…then what is he?

“Do you know something the public doesn’t?” You offer, trying to conceal your intense curiosity.

Yoongi grins, his brown eyes glimmering with something you haven’t seen in over a decade: hope, “Let’s just say…the Ricketts rebellion is the first of many. Sooner or later, AstroLex will meet the same fate…”

His words fuel your bleeding heart but, you have to be careful. You can’t get wrapped up in promises, you’ve made that mistake before.

“Resistance...” You breathe and, Yoongi doesn’t allow his grin to fade, “Do you really think it’s possible?”

“Would you join if it was?”

Looking up at your neighbor, you muster all of the sincerity and passion you can manage, holding the depth of his gaze as you respond,

“I’d join regardless…”

[theuncommittedwriter]

From now on, alone

From: My hero academia

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x reader

Genre: angst

A/N: Oh wow, first thing and is angst, such a surprise! Lmao I love angst. I hope you'll like it :) please take in consideration that English is not my first language. Be free to do as much corrections as you need! Please enjoy! :)

Summary: Shouto and his s/o met at UA quite years ago, but now, due to a disease, he has to see her losing her life in front of his eyes

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wondered if he would ever be able to forget the beauty that your sleeping face gathered. No, it was more than beauty. There was something of the peace of your breathing, the length of your eyelashes, the redness of your lips, the little distortion on the form of your face caused by having the cheek pressed on the mattress. You looked angelical on rather common terms. But he was not a believer of God; more likely, he had stopped believing in him after hearing some news from your mouth. Those words together were like hearing the trumpets announcing the day of the final trial to him.

Shouto Todoroki couldn't recall when was the last time he had slept, or at least, the last time he had had an eight hour time of recharging sleep. His mind wouldn't stop screaming and racing all over the place. It seemed like no matter in which direction he looked, there was a little memory with you. Be it the darkest corner of the bedroom, in which you once tried to scare him after watching a thriller movie in a particular rainy night; or the center of the large room, where he had invited you to dance in a playful tone more than every day. In other circumstances, he would affirm with total security that it was a bless to have such large mountain of memories with his beloved one. But at the moment, it felt like it was the plage coming after him.

The man wanted nothing more than to get on his feet and take a large run across the city. And if even after that he couldn't calm his mind, he would take the first train he could catch. It didn't have to matter the destination. He wanted nothing more than to escape, to be a coward and run away from his fears, from the fatality future that he couldn't control nor predict. He had never considered himself someone who wanted to be in charge of everything, but after that night, he felt like if he didn't take control of things, he would go insane. Unfortunately, his racing heart wouldn't allow himself to run. Not now. Not when the light of his nightmares was dying in front of him. He would never forgive himself if he ran.

Lately, his mind has being taking him back to the days he met you, as if it was some sort of punishment. He felt like the worst sinner when he thought that he wouldn't have to go through this if it wasn't because he had fallen so mad in love; with you, and with the idea of life. To him, you were like some kind of deity. Someone destined to suffer at the cost of saving others. Like that, with that cheesy line, was how he would describe your whole existence.

You two met at your first year of UA. However, as long as he was one at the top of the class, you were at the bottom. Not because you were weak, it was because you just put one foot at the UA for the first time at the second half of the second year. Not even one of your classmates knew about your existence until one day Aizawa mentioned you. That same day, a group of kids appeared in your hospital room with friendly smiles. They apologized for not visiting you until the second half of their first year at school.

Your quirk was one life-saver for a lot of people. Being called "cells of divinity", your genetic was holy for everyone but you. One day you may not be able to move your arm at all, two weeks later you may regain your arm, but lost the ability to talk, and so on. Your immune system was a mess, always going against yourself. Doctors had to keep you under intense care for 15 long years, which you all spent hospitalized. At some point around your 7th birthday, your parents stopped coming. Then you started to hear some rumours that they weren't paying for the hospital bed, and then they went missing. Before your 9th birthday, the responsibility for your safety and well being was in charge of the government.

At the cost of all the pills you had had to take, all the therapy you had gone through, there has been at least a million lifes saved. Your blood hated you, but it was made to be used by scientist to create medicines. That's why you'd spend so much time on hospitals, you had been created to be part of so many experiments.

When Todoroki heard for the first time this history, he had mixed feelings. He thought that you were nothing less than a hero, and that's why they admitted you on UA even though you couldn't fight. But at the same time, he thought that it was a really cruel destiny. He put himself on the position of being cursed by blood, something he had experienced in his own shoes, and felt like it was a big injustice to you. One night that his group of friend reunited in your hospital room, he confessed his thoughts about your life. After that, you two growth closer.

His stomach can't do anything else than to twitch in sorrow just from remembering all the nights you two had cried together, how many times he had had to hand-feed you because your arms wouldn't move on inch, how many times he had carry you on a wheelchair, just because your genetic decided that they wouldn't active your legs' nerves. How happy you looked the first time in years you had gone out of the hospital, even if it only longed three days. How happy you seemed to be the first time you took an actual exam with everyone in that UA classroom. Todoroki was completely and absolutely love-struck with the idea of you being happy and smiling, you being able to liberate yourself from the chains of your own genetic at going out of hospitals. He was utterly lost on all the comforts words you had given him throughout the years. He still couldn't say when was the exact time he had fallen so madly in love, but he was sure he couldn't stan a world without you.

Life only seemed to take him as a joke, because there you two were. He had let you sleep for more tha usual, even thought it was late on the afternoon. You were supposed to take a brief nap after being awake with him the whole night, crying and professing love words to each other. It has been like that for the past two weeks, since the day you gave him the fatal news. He almost lost conscious the moment he heard you saying that you were dying and there was no cure. He was mad at the time, mad because your quirk was supposed to save lives but it couldn't save yours. Right now, he couldn't feel anything but fear. Today was your last day. The day you told him, you had been really sick, he thought you would only dedrage from there, almost unable to talk on the last day. That way, it would have been less painful. But no, the destiny decided to give you vitality on your last times. The last week you had been more active than ever, even if you didn't go out, he had skipped work just to watch you wander around the shared apartment, singing, dancing, telling jokes, almost unaware of the fact that you were about to die. He tried his best to atone with you, but as stated previously, he can't remember the last time he had slept well.

Shouto was lost on thoughts, and it felt like an ice bucket being thrown on his face when he heard you giggling. There you were, his little angel, watching him from some centimeters apart. At the sight of your puffy eyes observing him, his heart pondered hard on his chest. He then held your hand. In your eyes, he was clearly dying of fear.

He intertwined your fingers, and his mind got him to thinking into your fragile form. How years and years of drugs on your body have made it be so tiny in comparison to his, how insecure you've felt the first time you two have had intimacy. Along with the years, Shouto stopped thinking that your quirk was one of a hero, and thought of it as a curse. You had nothing you could do to change your fate, and that was driving him crazy.

—Shouto —you called softly. In that instant, Shouto interpreted that as the worst case scenario, but then seeing you wear a smile made him let his breath out, which he doesn't know when he started containing—, you're spacing out.

—Sorry... —he mumbled, even softer than you. He then reached for your body with both hands, embracing you in a much needed hug, trying not to think about it as the last one. You answered nothing. Instead, tried to calm him down by tracing his column with your finger tips and massaging his hair softly. When you felt he had relaxed a bit, you tried to make a bit of space between both of you, you wanted to see his face. He didn't let you do so, he was too focused on carving your scent in his soul.

You sighed internally. You knew this was hard, and it probably was harder for him; but you had some things you wanted to prepare before reaching the final end. Some things for him.

It wasn't like you weren't afraid of dying. You had been, but not anymore. You had seen so many people dying, you had met so many people that has died, and you yourself knowing the nature of your quirk. At some point of your adolescence, you got to understand that death was something you should walk side by side, till the day she decided it was time to go.

What you didn't expect, was to fall in love. It wasn't in your plan to fall in love with a guy disposed to hold your hand even when you couldn't feel it. You didn't plan to be mad in love with someone who would not even change his expression one bit if you told him you couldn't move one inch and you had probably shit yourself, and instead tell you that it was nothing to be shy about and call a nurse. You didn't plan to fall in love with someone who had a radically different life from yours, but still shared the tears of your demons. It was out of the clue, but there you were, preparing your last note to your beloved one.

—Honey... —you tried calling again, in a low voice. You didn't intend to be cruel with him, but you didn't know how much time you had left. Even so, you were afraid of the numbness on your feet and the new cool feeling on your back.

Shouto tried to collect himself, as he had been trying for the past weeks, for you. He moved a bit back and looked his eyes on yours. He was at loss of words, his mind couldn't stop tormenting him with memories, instead of trying to appreciate those last times with you: —Sorry... —he then whispered.

—It's ok —you smiled, but weakly— there are still some things I want to prepare. Would you mind? —You knew you were probably being the worst girlfriend of the world, but you didn't dispose of its time to waste.

He minded. He seriously did, but he couldn't keep himself together to protest. He let you go, watching attentively how you vividly put your slippers on and walked to the loving room. After some seconds, he followed after you. Something at the back of his mind was yelling at him that he was being a bit over dramatic, but he couldn't help his heavy heart.

The living room of the apartment was linked to the kitchen, and there you were, preparing your favourite beverage; something to stimulate your mind to finish up al the letters you were writing to your friends, you would say to Shouto. In fact, you were writing just one final letter, one you planned to read to Shouto at the last moment. You were almost finished, the only thing that was missing was the confession of love, the most important part, you used to think.

Shouto sited uncomfortably on the couch, right next to one reclined chair you bought once to read books in "a perfect position" you said. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was watching you. He didn't try to hide his distress, either. He was waiting for the worst to happen in any moment, not like he was prepared, but he didn't want to get catched by surprise.

As if his own negative feeling were calls for angels to come and take you, you sighed, exhausted. All the energy you gained on the last days was facked. You tried to make cheerful memories with Shouto, even if they would hurt him at the beginning, you confided that later he would feel nostalgic coming back to them. Your hands shacked as you stirred the liquid on the cup, your vision was getting blurry, it became difficult to breathe. All of the sudden, as if death entered crashing the window to the large apartment. Your legs felt like giving up, until they finally did. You kneeled on the floor while a rough rampage of cough invaded your throat. As if you'd even doubt it, Shouto was by your side in an instant. He carried you out of pure instincts. He had seen you before being weak on the knees, but he knew this would be the last. He laid you on the reclined chair, lowering his face near yours, taking one of your hand in his. He certainly was panicking, and for the first time, the little smile that you tried to emulate on your beauty lips didn't give him any comfort. Instead, he felt like tearing up seeing the tints of blood coming out your mouth. The disease that was killing you was one that disintegrated organs from inside, it was something new that your immune system developed specially for you.

You kept coughing, each time worst. Blood came out of your mouth, but you still tried to smile on the sake of Todoroki Shouto —It's pretty bad —you could mutter between interruptions.

—I love you —was the only thing that Shouto could process at the moment. He could feel his blood running inside him.

You finally stopped coughing, but it didn't do any better, it made you realise how fast you had loosen faculties on your body. You couldn't feel your legs anymore, and your head was spinning, unable to form any thought. You fixed your eyes on Shouto. You didn't hear what he said, not anymore between coughs. You could see the shock on his eyes, those pretty eyes. The memory of you once thinking that he may had some kind of royalty-like blood on him came to you: —I really like your eyes... —you muttered. You weren't sure what you were supposed to do anymore, nor that you could think about it in that state— But you probably don't want to hear about that right now.

Shouto let a sob out. Tears accumulated on his eyes, and he did nothing to stop them from falling: —I want to hear it. I want to hear everything about you —he protested—. Please, please, tell me, tell me your thoughts, your feels... please —he begged. The hold if his hand on yours tightened, while yours felt weaker and weaker.

You cupped his face with your free hand, tracing delicately the shape of his scar: —I really like your eyes... —you took a pause to breathe from your mouth— And your scar, you don't like it but I do —Shouto did nothing more than to put his hand above yours, crying at its coldness—. I feel cold... Ah, there was something I wanted to tell you, but I can't remember what... —you scrunched your eyebrows, trying to remember the important thing you wanted to tell him— I see you blurry, I'm sorry...

Shouto heard you, he heard every word, but he wasn't able to come up with an answer. He contained his breath when he saw strings of blood coming out your nose: —Don't be sorry, please... I love you, I always will. —he helplessly chocked out the words.

—Kiss me... —you commanded breathly. He did nothing more than to obey. He kissed you delicately and briefly, suffering at the absence of warm in almost every part of you: —Oh, I remembered... —you coughed once again, some sprinkles of blood reaching to shower Shouto's face— I love you, that was it... I'm really sorry.

Shouto cried inconsolably, the love of his life was parting apart in front of him; even if he knew that would happen, he was not prepared. He rushed to speak when the hand that was cupping his face fell unmoving: —I love you, I love you much more! —at this point, he was shouting.

Shouto let out a desperate sound when he saw your eyes slowly closing. You didn't try to fight against it, you couldn't. The fogg on your mind had disappeared, it was replaced with nothing. Your eyes fell shut, your hands didn't charge with more strength. Just like that, your lifeless body laid on that reclinable chair.

Shouto didn't try to contain his emotions. He was a mess, a complete mess. The sigh of him crying and shouting to your cadaver to come back, begging and pleading to all gods to give him you back. He let our your hand, and embraced your cold body. He kept shouting till his throat went raw, and even then he didn't stop calling for your name.

Who know how much passed, but Shoto kept crying for you. He kept himself there, holding your lifeless hand. He then started to think of the time no one talks about, the time that you have already cried your eyes out, but they're not coming back. The time that you're still sitting there right next to a body without an owner to respond. He wondered what he was supposed to do now. What would happen to him after you had been taken away physically. Who would hear him crying? Who would accompany him on the bed? Who would complain to him to eat less soba a week? Who could possibly fill the emptynes that your soul left behind?

[reciprocityfic]

a slight return home, chapter 3

Title: A Slight Return Home Fandom: The Walking Dead Pairing: Rick x Michonne Rating: T Summary: Rick’s death shakes Michonne’s world to its core. With her daughter and her remaining family, she tries to navigate her changed life, and all the struggles and surprises that come with it.  Canon-compliant, for now.  Spoilers up to 9x06.

Author’s Note: Hi! Long time, no see. Sorry it's taken me weeks and weeks to update. But I hope you enjoy this chapter I finally have for you.

This chapter covers a large span of time, just an FYI.  And while writing, I listened to the song Holding a Heart by Toby Lightman, which is where the title comes from.

I almost just ended the whole story here, to be honest. But I do have more of this to tell, so lucky for you guys (or not lucky, depending how you feel about it, lmao) there are a handful of chapters left. I hope to have the next ones out much sooner than I had this one out!

On a side note, I just made a fandom Twitter account a few days ago. Follow me (@lizjenningss) if you want to!  All I do is cry over Richonne.

Thank you for reading, and hope to see you soon!

xoxo, Rebekah

read chapter one on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter two on tumblr, archive of our own or ff.net read chapter three on archive of our own or ff.net

i’m holding a heart here in my hand

"Hey."

It's raining today. But the canopy of tree leaves above her reduces the precipitation to a modest, misting drizzle. It doesn't bother her.

"I'm here. I guess you already knew that, though. You're here, too. I...I know you are."

She takes a shaky breath, digs her fingers into the damp earth below her.

"I'm sorry I haven't been here since I showed you the picture. I was trying - I, I thought that I had to...move on, or something. Not forget you. I'll never do that. I never want to do that. But I guess I thought that I needed - that I had to...I…"

She laughs, once, and drops her head to her chest.

"I don't really know what I thought."

A silence captures her tongue. As if she's waiting for him to answer her. For him to make sense of the jumbled mess in her head. To help her, as he always did.

The rain pit-patters on the leaves above, the river flows in front of her, and she waits.

But no help comes.

"I missed you. I miss you, always. Constantly. I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up, and it's not going to hurt as much. That it'll alleviate itself, even just the tiniest bit. It doesn't, though. It's just as bad as the first day. It's like I'm watching that damn explosion on loop."

She tilts her head to the side, and lets out a quick breath.

"You know what, though? I don't mind it. And I don't want it to go away. I know it feels like I can't breathe, sometimes, but it's proof. Proof that you were real, and you were here. Proof that I love you. And if pain is what I get to have, in place of you, then so be it. I'd rather have something left of you, than nothing."

A roll of thunder rings out. She looks at her horse over her shoulder, the animal shifting back and forth restlessly. It's going to storm. She needs to head back soon.

She turns back around, and reaches into her pack.

"I brought you something."

She holds the little black-and-white photo in front of her. She can't help the smile that begins to turn up her lips.

"Our little shadow isn't just a shadow anymore."

She traces the shape of the baby over the shiny, smooth paper.

"They don't look quite human yet. More like a little alien. Just as beautiful as ever, of course."

She stares at the photo a moment longer, before getting up and walking to the base of the tree where she left the last ultrasound picture. There, she finds it, dirty and weathered. She knows no one has touched it since she placed it there.

It doesn't matter. She doesn't care. It's his, and this new one is, too. She printed them for him, brought them to him, and they're his.

So she places it down over the old photograph, and anchors it down with a stone.

Another peal of thunder sounds. She hears her horse whinny loudly.

She walks back towards the river, and stops where she'd been crouching a moment ago.

"I have to go now, but I'll be back sooner this time. I promise."

She closes her eyes, and wraps her arms around herself.

"Goodbye, Rick."

She stays in place for another minute, then secures her pack and katana around her, and goes to leave. She pets her horse's nose in slow strokes to soothe her, and then mounts the animal. Before she prompts the horse to move, she turns her head back towards the river, and the clearing.

"I love you. I love you so much."

***

"There's a baby in there."

She feels a tiny finger pressing into her abdomen, and looks away from where she's chopping up apples to find Judith pointing at her belly, her eyes full of a mix that's equal-parts wonder and confusion. The little girl's fascination with her ever-growing stomach has been endlessly amusing, and Michonne smiles gently at her, nodding her head in affirmation.

"Yes, there is a baby in there."

"Will Baby come out soon?"

"Let's hope not."

"Why?" Judith asks, a whining impatience clear in her voice. Ever since the pregnancy, and what it would mean for their tiny family, had been explained to her, Judith had made it very clear that she wanted to meet her new brother or sister now, and being made to wait all those weeks and months was an absolutely preposterous concept.

"Because," Michonne begins, for an innumerable time, "Baby's not done growing yet. They need to stay in there and get big and healthy before they come out to see us."

Judith humphs in disappointment, her little hands curling into fists. She sighs heavily - with a drama that only a four-year-old can properly convey - and climbs up on one of the stools by the kitchen island. For a few minutes, the only sound is Michonne's knife hitting the cutting board over and over as she continues cutting up fruit, Judith watching and stealing a slice of apple every so often.

"Momma?" she asks finally.

"Yes, little bird?"

"Will Baby have a daddy?"

Her hand holding the knife slips as the question hits her. She cuts her finger, but she hardly notices as she falls into some sort of emotionless stupor brought on by the little girl's inquiry, the feelings it stirs inside her mingling together and overloading her heart until it seems to her that she's off alone somewhere, wrapped up in a thick, gray, lonely fog.

"Momma, you're bleedin'."

Judith's next words startle her from her trance, and she jumps infinitesimally before looking down and finding a sizeable spot of blood marring the light-brown wood of the cutting board. She mumbles a quiet shit under her breath before jogging over to the sink and grabbing a towel as she turns on the water and rinses her finger.

An irrational part of her wants to be mad at Judith for asking such a question. For anyone even thinking that, somehow, their new addition would be fatherless, that she would allow her child to grow up without the knowledge and awareness of the incomparable, amazing man who helped make them, who wanted them and dreamed them up in his head and loved the mere possibility of them more than words can say. That she wouldn't tell stories of his valor and his leadership and his sacrifice, and of his heart and his warmth and his soul. Stories of the man that saved them in every possible way, over and over again, before they even existed.

But Judith isn't anyone. Judith is a child - her child - who lost her father. Who lost one of the fundamental pillars of her world.

And it's as she turns the water off, and wraps the towel around her injured finger, that she realizes she's never asked Judith an important question.

She feels a tug at her pantleg. When she looks down, she meets Judith's wide, worried eyes staring up at her.

"You okay, Momma?"

"Yeah, baby," Michonne breathes. "Yeah, I just...cut my finger. But I'm fine."

She takes a breath and closes her eyes to try and clear her head, before crouching down so that she's eye-level with her daughter. Judith still looks concerned, and Michonne takes her little hands in her larger, uninjured one.

"Judy," she starts quietly. "You know that you still have a daddy, right?"

Judith doesn't answer right away. Instead, she cuts her eyes to the floor, and the frown on her face deepens as she thinks.

"My daddy got hurt real bad and couldn't live anymore, so he had to leave Momma and me and go with Carl and my first mommy."

A shaky breath moves through the little girl's lungs after she's done reciting her own version of the words Michonne's had to speak to her over and over again since Rick's death. When she looks up at her mother again, her eyes are full of tears, and Michonne's heart breaks.

She reaches out, and cups Judith's cheek.

"Oh, my little bird."

She stands and throws the towel in the sink, checking to make sure her finger has stopped bleeding, before picking the girl up, carrying her into the living room as Judith burrows her head in the crook of her neck. She sits them down on the couch and cradles Judith to her chest, pressing her cheek to the top of her head and smoothing her hair.

"Baby, you still have a daddy," she whispers.

"But he's not here," Judith counters firmly, and Michonne can feel tears begin to soak into her skin.

"Well. He's not here on the couch. He's not here when we eat dinner, and he's not here at bedtime. But he's still here. With us."

Judith sits up, and roughly wipes at her eyes before looking at her with a helpless expression.

"I can't see him. I can't hear him. Where is he?" she pleads.

"He's still inside us," Michonne tells her, her own tears beginning to cloud her vision. "Just like Carl is, remember? We love Daddy. We still love him so, so much, right?"

Judith nods vigorously.

"Right," Michonne affirms. "So as long as we love him, he's here with us. He's just in our hearts, instead of right next to us. He lives in there."

She covers the little girl's chest with her hand, lets her fingers rest right over her beating heart.

"And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever."

Judith brings her hand up, and rests it over Michonne's.

"So you still have Daddy," Michonne assures her. "And Momma still has Daddy, too. And when Baby comes, they'll have Daddy."

"But Baby's never gonna meet Daddy."

"No. You're right - Baby won't know Daddy. So you and me, we have to tell them about Daddy. Just like me and Daddy tell you about Carl, we have to tell Baby about Daddy. We'll tell him who he was, and what he looked like. What he sounded like. What he liked, and what he didn't like. All his favorite things. All the stuff he used to do, and all the stuff he used to say."

"The stories he used to read me!" Judith chimes in, her frown slowly giving way to a small smile. "And how his hugs were so warm. And how he was so good at hide and seek, and how he always gave you so many kisses. And how he snored when he was sleeping. And, oh, I'll paint Baby a picture of Daddy, too!"

"See? Baby will have lots of ways to know Daddy. And then Daddy will live in Baby's heart, too."

Judith grins, and then lays back down onto Michonne's chest. The two sit there quietly for a few minutes, Michonne still playing with the little girl's long, golden hair.

"I miss Daddy," Judith says eventually. "But I'm happy he's still here. I'm happy he's in our hearts."

One tear manages to escape the corner of Michonne's eye before she closes her lids.

"Yeah," she murmurs, squeezing her daughter closer as a bittersweet smile turns up her lips. "I'm glad he's in our hearts, too."

***

"They started kicking."

She sits on the bank of the river, her legs crossed in front of her. It's sunny this time. An unusually warm autumn afternoon that hearkens back to the days of late summer. The rays shine down between the trees, through the gaps between branches where leaves have already begun to fall, and warm the bare skin of her shoulders.

"It doesn't really feel like kicking. It's more like...fluttering. I remember it being more like kicking with Andre. This one is more like butterflies. Or popping. Like popcorn."

She runs her hand over her rounded stomach. It's becoming harder to hide now, even with all the baggy shirts she's come to wearing. She can feel the people of Alexandria whispering behind her back as she walks down the street.

"Judith loves it. She was finally able to feel it about a week ago, and she freaked, Rick. I can still see her face - her eyes were so wide, and her mouth was in a little 'o'. It was adorable. And now, she's obsessed. In the evenings, we sit on the couch and she lays there with her head in my lap and just waits for them to move."

She smiles fondly.

"She's gonna be such a good big sister. She already kisses my stomach every morning and every night, and tells me that she's saying 'good morning' and 'goodnight'. She tells me how much she loves them all the time. And at night, when we're there on the couch, she's started telling them stories. Some are the ones we've told her before. Some are ones she just makes up. Most of them are about you."

She bites her lip, as tears begin to well up in her eyes.

"I've started telling them about you, too. I mean, I don't even know how well they can hear me yet. I don't remember from Andre, and I've been meaning to ask Siddiq. But I figure it can't be too early for them to start to hear about you. It would never be too early. Because, God, Rick, I just want them to know you. Everything about you. Who you were. And I want them to love you, Rick. As much as Judith does. As much as I do. So even if it's just muffled sounds to them, at least those sounds are about you."

She closes her eyes as she speaks. Pictures his face and tries to imagine he's there in front of her.

"And I know this is stupid, Rick, but when I talk about you, I swear to you that they always seem to move around more. It's like they know who it is I'm talking about, or something. Like I said, I know that's silly. It's impossible. And it's probably just wishful thinking. Me putting unrelated things together and making something out of nothing. But that's what it feels like."

She takes a shaky breath, and opens up her eyes. She goes to speak again, but stops when she feels a popping sensation over and over again in her belly.

Like popcorn.

And she almost laughs.

"See what I mean? They're kicking for you."

And they keep kicking. One corner of her mouth turns up.

"They're kicking just for their Daddy."

She rests her hand on her stomach, over their baby. The movement inside her doesn't stop, and she lets herself smile.

***

She never formally announces her pregnancy to the residents of Alexandria. She just stops trying to hide it; she wears whatever she wants, tells the few who know for sure that they don't have to keep it a secret anymore, and starts answering any questions about it as honestly and openly as she can manage.

She worries at first that the news will only increase and prolong the meandering sympathy so many still harbor for her. That the polite smiles and whispered words of generic comfort that plagued her would never end, as she went from widow to widow with child.

And while her concern is proven to be valid with some, with most she's pleasantly surprised. Interactions seem to change from being about death to being about new life. They go from focusing on the past to focusing on the imminent future.

Most people stop talking to her about Rick, and start talking to her about their baby. And for that, she is glad. For now, at least, she'd rather remember Rick only with the people who knew him best - who understood him and respected him in the way he deserved.

She finds herself sitting next to Aaron one quiet afternoon, at the playground in Alexandria, the two of them looking on as Judith and Gracie play. The lightest dusting of snow had fallen the night before - the first snow of the season - and the girls are attempting to build a snowman. There's not nearly enough accumulation, and their efforts are resulting in a tiny, abstract sculpture mostly made of grass and dirt, but Judith and Gracie are having fun anyways, and that's what matters.

She and Aaron have been mostly quiet, other than exchanging pleasantries upon meeting and an offhand comment here and there about the construction project going on in front of them.

"You've really popped this past week or so," Aaron tells her.

She sighs playfully, and looks down at her stomach, sticking out through the opening in her unzipped coat, covered up with the biggest, warmest sweater she could find in all of the ASZ. It's true; she feels like her stomach has at least doubled in size in the last few days.

"Judith keeps making fun of me for waddling around. She's always saying, 'You walk so funny, Momma! Why are you walkin' so funny?'"

The two adults chuckle together.

"She's excited for the baby, I assume? I mean, whenever her and Gracie play together, afterwards, all Gracie talks about is Judith's baby, Judith's baby."

"Oh, so she's taking all the credit for my hard work now?" Michonne asks skeptically, and Aaron laughs. "That little stinker. But yes. Excited is an understatement. I told her we only had a couple more months to go the other day, and I kid you not, she literally fell out of her chair, she was so thrilled."

"Only a couple more months? Really?"

"I'm thirty-two weeks. Eight weeks left. Siddiq wants to send me to Hilltop for one more ultrasound before the weather gets bad, just to make sure everything's okay one more time."

"Can you even ride a horse right now?"

"Definitely not. I will be riding in a cart. We have one more big trade to make with them before winter, so I'm just tagging along with the group."

Aaron hums, and the two go back to watching Judith and Gracie. They're quiet for a few minutes, and then Aaron speaks.

"And how are you?"

She sighs slowly, and her heartbeat speeds up.

"I don't know," she admits.

She knows he's not just asking the question on a surface level - if she has any heartburn today, or an upset stomach, if she woke up on the right or wrong side of the bed this morning, if her week has been eventful, what she's planning on doing for the rest of the day. He's asking about something deeper.

He's asking about Rick.

Aaron is one of the people she allows herself to reminisce with. She feels a certain kinship with him - with his loss of Eric, and his parenting of Gracie. She thinks it's why she allows herself to be so honest with him. And he takes advantage of that, to her benefit. He checks up on her in a way that, incredibly, doesn't irritate her, or make her feel like a child. And he is always straight with her, in kind.

So she allows herself to continue.

"It's like I'm stuck," she whispers. "Just stuck in this nightmare full of pain and longing, and missing him. And I keep thinking that one day I'm going to wake up and it's going to feel better. Even the littlest bit. Not because I love him any less, or miss him any less. But just because...time. 'Time heals all wounds,' and all that sort of stuff. Everyday, though, I wake up, and it hurts just as much as it did the day before. More, sometimes. And I find myself sitting there every once in a while, wondering if it's ever going to stop. Or if the rest of my life is just gonna...be like this.

"And then this," she continues, motioning to her stomach. "I don't even...I don't even know what to say. I mean, I love them, and I want them, more than anything. But it was supposed to be ours. This whole experience was supposed to be between him and me. When we decided we wanted to try for a baby, there wasn't a single part of me that ever imagined I'd end up in this position alone. Even in the world we live in, I never even considered it. It just wasn't...fathomable to me, I guess. But here I am. And now, every time I get excited about something, I just end up thinking about how he won't be here to experience it. How he'll never get to hold them. He won't get to see their first steps, or hear their first words. He'll never get to rock them to sleep. He'll never get to hear them call him Daddy."

"It's like you're constantly pulled in two different directions," Aaron interjects.

She nods, wiping at the wetness that's gathered in her eyes.

"Yeah. And sometimes I'm not quite sad, but I'm never fully happy. I never get to experience anything fully, because grief is always clouding it. But at the same time, I feel guilty for wanting to feel better, because then I feel like I'm pushing the memory of him away."

"Rick would want you to be happy," Aaron tells her immediately, urgency clear in his voice. "Even if being happy meant you forgot him altogether - which, I promise you, you never will - he would want that for you."

"The rational part of me knows that," Michonne assures him, "but I can't stop myself from feeling like I'm betraying him."

She stops, and takes a breath. The baby shifts inside her. She laces her fingers together, and then rests them on the roundest part of her belly.

"So I guess, a large part of me doesn't know what I'm doing. Doesn't know what I'm going to do," she confesses quietly. Hesitantly. She doesn't like admitting to being not in control, but if she's being truthful, she hasn't had anything together since that bridge blew up in front of her.

A silence falls over the two of them. Judith drops a handful of snow on top of Gracie's head, and the two girls' giggles fill their ears.

"There are no easy answers," Aaron muses.

Michonne glances at him out of the corner of her eye. He's slouched over, elbows on his knees, chin resting in his hands.

He says, "I wish there were, and I wish I had them for you. But there aren't. Though, I will tell you that it does get better. Maybe hearing that doesn't really help anything, or maybe it's not what you want to hear right now. But it gets better. It's slow, admittedly. So slow that you might not even realize it's happening. Then, one day you'll be lying in bed, about to fall asleep, and it'll dawn on you that you didn't cry today. Or maybe even all week. Or you'll think of something Judith told you, and you'll remember that it made you laugh. I mean, really laugh. It's things like that. Stuff that you wouldn't have been able to do a month ago. And don't get me wrong, you'll still have bad moments, and awful days. That's just the nature of losing the person you love most in the world. Like with me - there are some mornings when I wake up and I miss Eric so much that it feels like I can't breathe. But that's when you have to hold onto those little things."

"I won't forget him?" she breathes.

"You won't forget him."

"Promise me, Aaron," she says sternly, turning in her seat and reaching out, taking his face between her hands and staring directly into his eyes.

Aaron brings his hands up to rest over hers.

"I promise, Michonne," he vows. "You won't forget him. Your heart won't let you."

She's reminded of what she told Judith, all those weeks ago.

And as long as he's in there - as long as we love him - he'll always be with us. Always. No one can ever take him away from you. No one. Not ever.

"And the baby," Aaron begins, letting her hands go as they begin to fall from his face. "I know it seems overwhelming right now. When I adopted Gracie, right after Eric died, a large part of me thought I was insane. But she's been the best thing that ever could've happened to me. And I know when this little one comes along, it'll be the same way for you. Every time they laugh, or smile, or, hell, look at you, you'll feel a little piece of your soul being stitched back together.

"And just think," he tells her, his lips lifting into a half smile, "they're a piece of Rick. A living, breathing piece of him that you'll get to hold in your arms every day. Tangible, physical proof of your love, and all that you meant to each other."

She stares down at her stomach, running her hand over it, and a tear falls from her eye.

"Momma!" Judith yells then, and Michonne looks up in time to see the four-year-old barreling towards her, an excited smile on her face. She crashes into her legs, hugging them, and then crawls up on the bench, settling herself between Michonne and Aaron. Gracie comes behind her, and crawls into her father's lap.

"Do you like our snowman, Momma?"

She lifts her eyes to look at the girls' creation. As predicted, he's more brown than white, with only one arm and no nose, standing lopsided, with Gracie's purple scarf thrown over his head haphazardly, and one of Judith's pink gloves stuck precariously on the end of his stick-arm.

And through her tears, Michonne laughs.

She really laughs. And then she wraps her arm around her daughter's waist, and pulls her into her side.

"Yeah, Judy," she murmurs. "I love it."

***

"It's snowing today."

The riverbank is covered with a thin blanket of white, the water covered sporadically with chunks of ice. She stands today instead of sits, bundled in her fluffy winter coat. She can't manage to zip it over her belly anymore, even if she wanted to.

She glances quickly over her shoulder. The group she traveled to The Hilltop with is just at the edge of her vision, talking among themselves. Thankfully, none of them are very close to her or her family, and none of them realize the significance of where they are. Or of the alternate route she directed them on to get them here.

"I can't stay long this time. I'm not alone. I can't ride a horse at this point, so I can't come by myself. So I'm with a group, on our way back from Hilltop. I told them I had to pee, so I have to be quick. But I had to see you. I had to."

She reaches into her pack.

"Enid gave me my last ultrasound today."

She pulls out her final photo for him.

"Our they is a he, Rick. We're having a boy."

She can't say it without getting tears in her eyes. They fall down her cheeks, sting her skin as the cold catches them.

She stares at the picture, at their little baby boy. Her third son. His second.

"I'm gonna name him after you."

She smiles as she thinks of it.

"Rick Grimes, Jr.. Rick, Jr.. Is that cheesy? I don't care. We both know that you were always a little cheesy."

She turns slowly, and walks toward their tree. With some effort, she manages to kneel down. She brushes away the snow with her hand, until she finds the other two photos. She places a kiss onto the shiny surface of the new one she holds, and then lays it down on top of the last one. Before she anchors it with the rock, she traces her thumb over his head, and his tiny feet.

"I think we'll call him RJ."

[probably-not-star-lord]

Just Roommates (Scott Lang x Reader)

A/N: This is my first time writing for Scott but expect more fics with him cause I love him so much!! Also I’m sorry that this is kinda bad cause I’m legit so used to writing for cocky, inappropriate Peter Quill lmao.

Request: OH MY GOD FINALLY SOMEONE WRITING FOR SCOTT. can i please have an imagine where scott and the reader live together and when cassie comes to visit she and the reader get along really well and scott falls even more in love with her? lots of fluff please! love your work x

Warnings: swearing, FLUFF

-

You and Scott have been roommates for a while now. You started living together when he first got out of prison, Luis being a good friend to both of you and hooking you up with roommates. You needed someone else to help with rent and he needed a place to stay, it was perfect.

You stayed by his side when he struggled with finding a job to support his daughter, Cassie, and you were certainly with him when he became Ant-Man. Scott always has your back and you have his, living up to the expectations of a great friend and a stellar roommate. But there were still a few things you didn't know about each other. For instance, you’ve never met Cassie. Scott tells you about her all the time and it makes you so happy to listen to they way he shares stories about is daughter. You want to know Cassie really badly, but it’s just never worked out for you to meet her.

Scott would love nothing more than for you to meet Cassie as well. He’s only just super nervous about. You were his roommate and his friend, but there’s always been something more. He doesn't see you as just those things and a part of him has been crazy about you since the day you met. So what happens if Cassie doesn't like you or you don't like Cassie? Then he’ll be forced to disregard his feelings and he’ll never be able to tell you how he really feels.

Today was a casual Saturday. It wasn’t Scott’s weekend with Cassie and you were disappointed because next time she comes you’ll be out of town. You sit on your bed with a bottle of nail polish beside you, painting your toes a light shade of blue. Outside the door, you can hear Scott banging on the drums and you laugh to yourself quietly.

“That man is such a dork,” you mumble. A smile creeps up to your lips as you think abut Scott. You've always had a thing for him, despite his awkwardness and nerdy sense of humor. If anything, those are the qualities that make you like him even more. 

The doorbell rings, pulling you from your thoughts. You cringe, knowing if you get up you’ll smudge your toes that are almost done drying. The doorbell rings again, but this time you hear speedy footsteps follow and you’re grateful Scott got off his ass so you don’t have to. Chatter echoes throughout the house, centering at the kitchen. You’re curious about who’s here and are desperate to investigate. So the second your nails are dry, you dart out of your room and follow the noise.

Around the kitchen table sits Scott and Cassie. Your heart leaps with joy: you’re finally going to get to meet her! Scott looks up at you and grins brightly. “Hey Y/N!”

Cassie turns her attention to you as well, the little girl perking up in her seat with wide eyes. “She’s pretty...” she whispers. Your smile widens and you make your way over to her.

“You must be Cassie.” She nods. “I’ve heard so much about you! I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she replies. “My dad talks about you all the time.”

Scott laughs nervously, a hint of blush on his cheeks. “Peanut...” Cassie just shrugs in response and continues smiling up at you. “Maggie had to drop her off because she was called into work for the rest of the weekend. I hope that’s alright.”

“Of course!” you exclaim. “I’d love to have Cassie here for the weekend.”

“Hear that, Peanut?” Scott says. “You can hangout with Y/N and I.” His phone rings, disrupting the conversation. “Excuse me, I gotta take this.”

“No worries,” you tell him. You bring Cassie into your room. “Sorry it’s kind of a mess in here. I was painting my nails.”

“Really? Can you paint mine?” she asks excitedly.

“I’d be happy to! Which color do you want?”

She glances down and peers at the color of your nails. “The same color you have.” You nod in response and grab the color from off of your bed, setting up an area on the floor.

A long while passes as you paint Cassie’s nails. The two of you talk a little bit about school or Scott and definitely share some laughs. She even opens up a bit to tell you what Scott has said about you and you’re happy to hear everything he says is really nice. You put the blue bottle back into the bin with the others and clasp your hands together.

“All done! What do you think?”

Cassie wiggles her toes in delight, grinning down at them with a giggle. “I love them!” To your surprise she wraps her arms over your shoulders and pulls you in for a hug. “Thank you Y/N!”

“Any time, kid.”

“I’m gonna go show Daddy!” She shouts, running out of your room to meet Scott. You get up from the floor and lean against the doorway, able to hear their conversation. “Daddy look at my nails!”

“Wow those look great, Peanut!” he exasperates.

“They look just like Y/N’s,” she says. “She’s the coolest.”

You hear Scott hum in response. “So you like Y/N, huh?”

“I love her!”

“That’s good...” he yammers.

“Do you love her, Daddy?”

“Huh? Oh yeah...I guess I love her. I mean she's my roommate-”

“No do you like love her love her?”

“Yeah...” Scott sighs. “I think I do. It feels like she's not just my roommate.”

“I know,” Cassie states. “I can tell she loves you too.”

Scott raises his eyebrows. “She does? You really think so?” She nods in affirmation. “So then should I ask Y/N on a date?”

Cassie squeals in excitement. “Yes!”

“Well, I don’t know, Peanut. I probably shouldn-” Scott is cut off by Cassie pushing him towards your door. You quickly jump out of the doorway and sit on your bed like you weren’t listening to their conversation. Hearing them make their way over to you, you smile to yourself. Scott’s in love with you.

“Y/N! My dad needs to talk to you,” Cassie delivers, giving him one last shove into your room before walking away. Scott stands in the doorway, shifting awkwardly in place.

“I hope Cassie hasn't given you too much trouble or anything...”

“Oh, of course not! Cassie is super sweet.”

“She said she likes hanging out with you.”

You laugh lightheartedly, the tension in the room building the more the small talk continues. “I like hanging out with her too,” you say. “I can’t believe you hid her from me all this time!”

“Well...you’re just so awful with kids I didn't want to let her anywhere near you,” Scott jokes, causing both of you to chuckle. He thinks about how excited Cassie was to meet you and how she looks up to you. The way you took such good care of her today and were happy to spend time with her makes him fall in love with you even more. “I’m glad you two get along because there’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“You’re gonna ask me out.” You smirk, crossing your arms.

Scott’s eyes widen in surprise. “What?”

“I heard Cassie tell you to come in here so you can ask me on a date.”

“Shit...” he groans.

“Scott, it’s fine,” you laugh. “I’ve actually liked you for a while now. I’d be happy to go out with you.”

“Really?” You nod. “Uhh...awesome! Okay that sounds good...” he stutters, unable to put the proper words together to make a sentence. You get up from the bed and plant a firm kiss on his lips to cut off his yammering. He’s taken aback at first, but then he quickly gives in and deepens the kiss. The kiss is warm and melts your heart, filling it with pure joy.

You hear Cassie cheer with glee from the hallway, causing you and Scott to immediately pull away from the kiss. He presses his forehead against yours and the two of you chuckle at his daughter dancing with happiness at the fact that she was the one able to finally get you two together.

[deliverydefresas]

masters of the scene

I know this is super shocking bc this is probs the soonest (?) ive posted between parts lmao 

I did want to hurry things up before saturday, tho, so here we have it, friendsss. if you’ve missed a part: 

1 | 2 | 3 | 4

AU: Matteo Balsano is a famous singer who has been crushing on this one girl he saw every day behind a window many years ago, back when he first started recording his debut album and inspired his first big hit, “Princesa”. Luna Valente, professional Olympic skater turned actress is at a local (and very popular) talk show to promote her breakout movie. This is where it all starts.

BREAKING: OLYMPIC GOLD MEDALLIST SAYS GOODBYE TO SKATING 

SOL BENSON, 24, recently known for her role as skating legend Marissa Mint in “SHATTERED WINGS”, announced this morning she wouldn’t return to training, or to any competition as a participant again. The announcement was posted on all her social media accounts, reading: “I can proudly say it’s time. Today, a new chapter in my life begins. I’m officially retiring from professional skating.”

Benson also took the chance to thanks her fans, saying: “The last ten years have been an unforgettable experience. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough to thank everyone who has been by my side helping, supporting, and cheering on me on this journey. I’ve done everything I could and wanted, and I hope you’re all as proud of me as I am of myself and the accomplishments we’ve done. I love you all very much.” The now ex-skater didn’t specify why she was leaving, but she affirmed it wasn’t anything but a personal choice: “I know many of you are shocked, or confused as to why I’m doing this now, that’s the reason I want to point out it’s not because of my health or a change of careers, as I know some might be thinking. Simply, this is me acknowledging my heart’s desires.”

Opinions and critics were instantaneous from the fans.

@ Sol_Benson: Thank you. pic.tw.com/3747829

          @ solnation: @ Sol_Benson please tell me this is an early april fools joke I’m crying

          @ sol_fan73937: @ Sol_Benson THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT, THIS IS NOT WHAT I PLANNED, AND I JUST WANT TO SAY I DO NOT UNDERSTAND

          @ SolMiReina56: @ Sol_Benson on one hand I’m happy you’re doing this in your terms but on the other I just want to scream whAT THE FORK BENSON

Benson’s famous friends, however, showed nothing but support for her.

@ Simon_RB: today the sun goes down and the moon rises! So proud of you @ Sol_Benson

@ JimM: Working with you, one of the greatest skaters of our time, was a privilege. Being your friend, and share all these memories, is an honor. Your talent will shine bright like your soul no matter what ♥ @ Sol_Benson  

@ TheAmbarSmith: An absolute star. @ Sol_Benson

The news broke amid rumors of the skating star dating Italian heartthrob, Matteo Balsano, leading some fans and theorist that her new relationship was linked to her decision.

@ SolecitoDeMadrugada: I don’t wanna start sh*t here, folks, but Sol said she’s acknowledging ‘her heart’s desires’…. What if Balsano convinced her to quit????

@ SolBonita: If Matteo Balsano had anything to do with this I will cut that bitch in half just sayin’

@ soltteoforever: omg what if sol quit to form a duet with matteo???!!! #relationshipgoals

@ elbalsanito: if y’all really think MATTEO BALSANO would make his two minute long girlfriend quit her career for him y’all are batsh*t crazy don’t even look at me

So far Benson and her team have offered no comment to the critics, choosing silence over explanations, and only time will tell what she’s planned for herself next.

Is this really her end in skating? Will she approach a musical career with her beau? For more Sol Benson, click here!

He was a coward.

And an idiot.

An idiotic coward, really, because he hung up on her as fast as his brain and hand could do it. He could’ve lied, told her it was only a guessing. Or he could’ve come clean about his stalker-ish ways and freak her out. Or come clean and skip the stalker-ish ways. But, no, he’d hung up and now when she saw him she’d demand an explanation and probably give him crap for hanging up on her and then creating a lame excuse as to why.

Because so far, he could only come up with his phone dying in that exact moment and him forgetting to call her back. For two weeks.

Again, an idiotic coward he was.  

“Are you listening to me, Matteo?” he’d been lost in his thoughts again, unsurprisingly. It was something he’d been repeating lately, and usually blamed it on him ‘mentally’ writing his songs. Sometimes, it was the truth; but most of the time it was an excuse to get Gastón and his mom off his back. Today was Delfi’s turn at enduring this lost lapse. “Matteo! This is a serious matter, you dick!” he’d laugh at the insult if it weren’t for her aggravated look. He was used to the annoyed, yet knowing look of his friend and his birther, but Delfi looked nothing but stressed. “Can you focus on what I’m telling you?”

Matteo threw her an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Delfi. I was just-”

“I don’t even want to hear it! I just need to listen to me and tell me what the fuck is happening between you and Sol Benson!” Well, shit. She was even cursing now.

“What do you mean?” he asked, genuinely confused now. Delfi knew better than anyone that he wasn’t dating, and even if he was, she never cared about it before. His manager sighed exasperated, throwing a newspaper across the table, pointing to him to read it.

The sole headline was enough to make his blood run cold.

“Read it till the end.”

“She’s retiring?” Matteo couldn’t believe it. A million questions came to his head as he read the article, ‘why’ being the loudest. “I just- what?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care about her, Matteo.” She sighed again, passing her fingers through her head. “What I do care about is that they’re mentioning you as the responsible.” Delfi raised her hand when he opened his mouth to protest. “I know you aren’t. And I’d like to think a woman like her is strong enough to not let an idiot like you convince her to give up her career. However, this is bad because you’ll be crossed as a chauvinistic pig, and could seriously hurt the image the older fans have of you. We need to counterattack, fast, and I need you to tell me just exactly how close you are to Sol.”

“What for?” He was getting defensive, and Delfi could tell so, too. She softened her look.

“This is not about you being a heartthrob, Matt. This is about people judging you wrongly-”

“Are you listening to yourself? They already judge me wrongly!” Delfi pursed her lips.

“Okay, bad wording. Still, we can’t let them think you’re that kind of person either.”

“Can’t you talk to Gastón about it? Maybe he can-”

“We agreed to break the contract with most of the magazines and the heartthrob stories, but you can’t just sue someone for linking you as someone’s boyfriend. If this was an article solely about you, we could make an agreement with them but since it’s about her-”

Matteo frowned. “Can’t you talk about it with her team? You said you knew them, maybe you can work on something together-” Now she looked offended.

“What do you think I’m doing? This is why I citied you here, we’re meeting them in ten minutes to discuss it! And first I needed your stupid ass to explain your situation to me so we could have some ground but all you’ve done is daydream about God knows what!”

“Wait, what?!” he looked down at his sweatpants, and the semi-sweated t-shirt he’d worn to go to gym before the meeting, and he just knew his hair was a dishevel mess. He hadn’t even bothered with his contacts, so his glasses were stuck on his head unless he wanted to be as blind as a mole. He’d thought he’d only be meeting Delfi, and now- “she’s not coming, is she?”

“Who is ‘she’?” Delfi air-quoted, not getting why he was getting freaked out.

“Luna – Sol, she isn’t coming, right?”

Delfi scoffed. “Of course, she is! This is all about her, why wouldn’t she be here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he almost whined, jumping out of his chair to get his gym bag, and spray the shit out of his deodorant on his body. He didn’t have any hair gel, so his hair had to stay the same. He was really regretting not taking the time to fully showering before coming.

“Oh, so now you care about how you look at meetings?” He didn’t answer her, still busy with his gym bag. He was sure he had mints buried somewhere. “I take that you like this girl?” Matteo said nothing, but nodded the slightest. “I know the rumors aren’t true right now, but I really need you to tell me if you think they will. The earliest Gastón and I can come up with counterattacks to protect your privacy and hers, the better. Especially since her contract with her team will drop soon.” Delfi asked, her tone a lot softer and less teasing. She’d taken his wishes seriously, and he was very grateful about it. He was in good hands if shit ever hit the fan.

Matteo dropped his bag, and sighed a quiet ‘yes’. And then turned to her, louder this time, “I don’t want anything hurtful, insulting or degrading to be said about her. The less she’s mentioned, the better. If it means we must re-sign with them, and have them write me off as a playboy, then so be it. But not a bad word about her, Delfi.”  

She smiled, her words comforting him a little. “If it’s in my hands both of you will be protected. Now, go tame your hair before your little star runs away from seeing it and turns into stone, medusa-boy.”

She was this close to picking up her phone.

The urge of checking her phone was eating her up but Luna was trying her best to avoid any type of interaction with social media in the last two nights, but it was proving to be harder than she imagined. After the news were out in the open she’d turned everything off; her phone, laptop, and tablet, burying them deep in one of Nina’s photography drawers so she wouldn’t be tempted to read her fan’s comments, or the articles magazines and newspapers were publishing on the web.

When her team called her early in the morning for a meeting, though, she knew something else had happened. They’d already discussed everything related to her retirement, and weren’t meant for another meeting for another three weeks, when she’d sign the remaining papers to break most of her commitments and contracts, with only the bigger ones left until she could find another lawyer outside of her management. Not that she didn’t trust them, but Mariano was more a “making business only” instead of “breaking business” type of lawyer.

“Still no news from Tamara?” She asked Nina beside her. Nina shook her head.

“She said she’d be meeting us there, to ask for Alzamendi and to not talk until Mariano and she were present.”

“Alzamendi?” She repeated, “does that sound familiar to you?”

“I think I might have an idea.” Nina admitted. Luna looked expectantly at her, urging her to tell her. “Pedro’s girlfriend, Delfina Alzamendi, is a head manager here.”

She frowned. “But she’s in the entertainment business, not in sports. Why would she cite us here?” Her eyes widened, “you don’t think…”

Nina shook her head rapidly. “No, no, no. Tamara’s better than that, she knows you don’t want to enter acting, she wouldn’t do that to you. I was thinking more that maybe one of Delfina’s clients could be involved.”

“But why would Ámbar contact me vía my manager? She has our house number, and Simón’s and yours.” Nina looked at her funny, confusing her. “What?”

“I’m not talking about Ámbar, L. I think this is about Matteo.”

His name made her scowl. She still hadn’t forgiven him for hanging up on her without an explanation, or a goodbye, and the guy had sent her to voice mail after she tried calling him back.

“He has my number too.” Not that he cared to use it again. Boys were stupid.

By now Nina looked amused, but grimaced after a moment. “You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“Seen what?”

Nina took her phone out of her purse, typed in her code and opened her phone’s browser. She was about to protest when she saw her type ‘sol benson matteo balsano’, but was quietened when Nina clicked on an article about Matteo being the reason she was retiring from skating.

“This. It started the morning you posted the news on Twitter and a fan replied saying you meant Matteo when you said you were following your heart. I think that’s why Delfina wants to talk to you and Tamara, because Matteo wasn’t left in the best position. People are crossing him as a controlling chauvinist.”

Luna was feeling dizzy. She had meant for the news to affect her only, but now she was dragging Matteo too. “People are saying this?”

“Mostly your fans, and uninvited activists, but yes.”

“He must hate me now, Nina.” She groaned, hiding her face with her hands. By now they were almost by the entrance desk, and a few of the people there stared her way.

“He couldn’t even if he tried, Luna, don’t worry.” Her friend cooed, squeezing her hand in comfort.

“His manager contacted mine, Nina. People don’t do that unless they’re strangers or you hate the other person.”

“I think you’re exaggerating a bit.”

“He at least has to be mad. If anyone said I’m the reason they’re quitting their career I’d be too.”

“Maybe, but not mad at you. The people saying this are mostly gossipers and fans you have no control over, Luna, don’t worry.” She nodded a couple times, trying to calm herself and the unnecessary guilt she was feeling in that moment.

When she finally felt calm enough, she dragged her feet to the lady behind the desk, asking her politely where she was supposed to go. The lady’s eyes shone with recognition, before asking her who she was meeting with; as soon as she said ‘Alzamendi’, the woman’s grin could have rivaled the Cheshire cat.

“Miss Alzamendi and Mr. Balsano are waiting in room 7. Go straight that hallway and turn left on the first corner, it should be easy to spot it, the numbers are big enough; they’re still waiting for Mr. Périda, and your team, though. Is there anything I can get you both to drink? We have black coffee – black, decaf, with milk, vanilla latte and moka, tea – chamomile, green, lemon ginger and berry sangria, hot chocolate – sweet, bitter, Spanish, Mexican, white and raw, lemonades – strawberry, mango and mint, sodas-”

Luna blinked a couple times, surprised that a) they had so many options and b) they made their receptionist learn all of them.

“Uh, do you have water?” Nina asked, interrupting the woman before she went on to list all their available sodas. The receptionist shut up immediately, pursing her lips at Nina for a second before nodding, then she looked at her, expectantly.

“A Mexican hot chocolate would be nice, thank you.”

“Anything to eat? We have a couple of restaurants delivered to us, if you’re hungry.” Before she could refuse, Tamara’s voice was heard behind them.

“Luna!” She smiled politely at her manager, nodding in greeting to Mariano. “I’ll have a latte and the sir will have black coffee, no sugar, please.” The older woman addressed the receptionist, who simply wrote it down on a little notepad. Tamara didn’t bother to thank her before she was dragging Luna – and Nina, who was grabbing her hand- towards the hallway the lady had pointed out before. “Okay, so; Matteo Balsano’s manager called me yesterday and requested to have a meeting as soon as we possibly could, that’s why I called you last minute, sorry. Are you aware of the rumors going around of you two?” Luna begrudgingly nodded, “good, I don’t have to explain it, then. Alzamendi didn’t specify why she was requesting us, but my bet is on the news hurting Balsano’s image of the perfect guy.”

“That’s what Nina told me, too.” Tamara’s eyes flickered to Nina’s.

“Good.” That’s all she said before going back to explaining. “More likely than not, they’re pissed. It could be the boy, it could be his manager, it could be the label. Or a mix of all. We already broke all magazine deals, so there’s not much we can offer to clean his name. We’re betting on his team acting up and choosing to clean it up themselves, while praying they don’t leave you dirty at all. Mariano can make up an agreement with his lawyer to even out and make it fair for both.”

“Do you think Matteo’s capable of going as far as dirtying up Luna’s name?” She could tell Nina was worried, and already feeling protective of her. Tamara shook her head.

“He doesn’t strike me as the type, but we need to be prepared for the worst-case scenario.” She told them honestly, finally stopped walking in front of a door. Before they entered, though, she looked at Luna straight on. “Listen, munchkin, when you enter that door you need to forget whatever relationship you have with the guy.” She was about to protest, but Tamara shook her head. “Just until we know where we stand. And who we stand against, okay?” She merely nodded. “Good. Are we ready?”

Matteo was sure those had been the longest – yet quickest, because he spent most of them rushing to make himself more presentable- ten minutes of his life.

The door opened, and the corner of his mouth went up at the knowing he’d see her in seconds. When she didn’t acknowledge him, the smile fell. When she sat down on one of the chairs and kept her eyes on the table, he frowned.

Was she mad at him, at the situation they were in? Was she sad? What if it hadn’t been her decision? Could that be why she looked so… not herself?

He was about to go to her when Delfi stopped him. Matteo looked at her, questioning why she’d done it, but she sent him a look that said ‘quiet’.  

“Delfina,” the woman – who was part of Luna’s team, if his guess was correct- greeted his manager, a tight smile on her face. Then she turned to him. “Mr. Balsano, nice to meet you.”

Delfi sent her a polite smile. “Tamara, Mariano, it’s always nice to see you again.” He could’ve sworn he heard the man say, ‘is it?’ under his breath. “Miss Benson, Miss Simonetti, long time no see.” Wait, she knew them?

Luna looked up from the table, throwing a quick ‘hello’ to her; her eyes flickering for the shortest time to his face, before turning down again. His frown deepened as Nina’s friend answered Delfi’s greeting, more enthusiast. “Hi, Delfi, it’s good to see you again, too. I wish it were under, uh, better circumstances, though.”

He could tell Delfina was amused at her words, if her mouth twitch was any indication. “Straight to the point, huh? Sadly, we’re waiting for Matteo’s lawyer to get here first.”

“Why isn’t he here yet?” the man asked rudely, disdain clear as water on his face. Matteo felt attacked by his tone, and jumped at Gaston’s defense.

“I’m not his only client, sorry not all of us can afford to have a clear schedule twenty-four-seven.”

Mariano raised his brows. “Ah, yes, you’re right. Real jobs keep you busy. My bad.”

Matteo scowled at him. “How would you know? You’re jobless now that your client is quitting her not so ‘real’ job, no?”

“Matteo.” Delfina warned him in a hiss, pinching his arm to keep him quiet. He noticed Luna’s blank look turning into a small grimace.

Mariano was about to retort when Luna’s manager grabbed his arm. “Don’t.” Then she turned to Delfi, “I think’s it’s for the better to start discussing the elephant in the room, sweetheart. You can always update your lawyer when he comes.”

Delfi pursed her lips at the nickname, but stood up with a nod. “Fine. I don’t think I have to explain why we’re here exactly.”

“You understand this is not Miss Benson’s fault, right? This was a matter taken out of context by their fans and the media.” The man’s tone wasn’t exactly condescending, but even Matteo felt like he was trying to teach Delfi how to do her job.

Still, Delfi remained as calm as she could. “We do, as I’m sure you understand your client’s choices shouldn’t taint my client’s image, no?”

“He’s as tainted as you can get them. Aren’t ‘playboy’, ‘heartthrob’, and ‘ladies man’ nice ways of saying man-whore?” Matteo heard small gasps around him, but he was too shocked at the insult to notice whose gasps were from. Mariano looked smug. “If anything, he is the reason they assume conclusions. If your client didn’t have the image he has, our client wouldn’t have linked to him in the first place.”

That was enough for his friend to snap. “If your client had been properly trained to do interviews without making a mess we wouldn’t be in this situation at all!”

“Those articles had died down until both your clients chose to approach ours at a public event knowing there would be photographers all over the place! How’s that for trained?”

“Enough, Mariano!” His partner shut him up. The woman had the decency of looking ashamed. Delfi and him, though? They were pissed. “I’m really sorry, guys. This is not at all what we came here for and I apologize for my-”

“You have nothing to apologize for, Tamara.” Delfi interrupted her, “he does.”

Mariano pursed his lips, but spit out the apology anyway. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved just now.” Matteo clenched his jaw, moving his gaze to Luna, who looked mad, too. At whom, though, he didn’t know.

“As you know, all our news deals are broken. We have no control, or stance to negotiate with them anymore. So-”

“So, you want us to fix it for you? Is that it? Why should we, after the stunt your team just pulled?” Matteo almost growled, his anger rolling in waves through his body.

Tamara grimaced. “I was hoping we could make an agreement. I know we-” she pointed to Mariano and herself, “-haven’t behaved as we should. But this isn’t about us only.” She looked at Luna, whose frown and pursed lips were more evident now than before.

At last, she fixated her eyes on his.

“I’m not asking you to do anything for me.”

Matteo sighed out, “Luna-”

“No. Listen, if your image-” she scowled at the word, “- is so important to you I can ask Jazmín or someone else to interview me and I’ll tell them the truth.” Matteo almost choked up. Where was she getting at?

“The truth?” Delfi repeated, expectant.

Luna’s friend looked worried, now. “Lu- Sol, please-”

She looked at him, her eyes not wavering for a moment. “Y’know, that you’re not the reason of my decision. I’m sure your fans will be shocked to hear you’re not the center of my universe.”

“Luna, plea-” Nina tried to gain her attention, but she still didn’t move her gaze from him.

“And I’m sure they’ll be glad to know we’re not dating, much less friends.”

Had he been punched? He felt himself getting his breath knocked out of him. He barely heard her friend warning her. “Luna, stop. This isn’t you talking.”  

“No, let her talk.” Matteo was proud he didn’t sound as hurt as he was feeling.

“Oh, so you’re talking to me now?” her sarcasm was throwing him off. Why was she mad about him not talking to her when she basically ignored him too? “Or do I have to wait another two weeks for you to answer me again?” Oh.

Oh.

“You’re mad abou-”

“Dude, no.” Was that…? When had Gastón arrived that he didn’t even notice? He felt his friend squeeze his shoulder, before palming it a couple times. “Don’t answer that, you’ll never win that argument.” He whispered, shaking his head in Luna’s direction. Then he turned to everyone in the room. “So, what did I miss?”