#imagine saying that knowing full well her parents killed themselves in front of her when she was ten!!!! insane!!

[taxinealkaloids]

horrible children who are. so so mean to each other

[lonely-lost-soul]

Little Hope

(Platonic SBI Famliy x child reader)

Request 6: An imagine or Drabble about sbi family x reader where the reader is the newest adoptee to the family and it turns out they sleepwalk! They do random things like moving stuff around, talking to empty air, and can sometimes end up waking up nowhere near their bed. Just harmless shenanigans that might be spooky at first but are ultimately funny and endearing in a way. 

Requested By: @0melodydrifter0​ 

When Phil brought home a little girl wrapped in a blanket Wilbur was pissed, another child his father had adopted that Phil couldn’t take care of, another child that would end up being his and Techno’s duty to raise. However, something was different in his father’s eyes as he held the young girl close to his chest, 

     “Dad?” Wilbur murmured an eyebrow raised suspiciously high on his head, “What’s that?” He watched his father wince a little cradling the toddler closer to him, 

     “Wilbur...this is (Y/n). She’s going to be your new little sister.” Wilbur grits his teeth and felt rage flood through his veins again, not at the little one, no he couldn’t blame the child for his father’s savior complex. “An old friend of mine village was raided, he asked for my help but by the time I got there everyone was dead, everyone except her.” Phil moved some stray hair out from the kid’s eyes, “I couldn’t leave her for dead Wilbur.” Wilbur’s face softened a little bit, now wasn’t the time to argue with his father, especially since he had just lost a friend. 

      “Could I...see her?” He asked hesitantly as Phil knelt down beside one of his eldest, Wilbur noted the girl had flecks of (h/c) hair on her forehead, her face was covered in soot and ash, he noted she had the brightest (e/c) eyes he’s ever seen. She was quiet, very different from Tommy already, she reached up and touched the side of Wilbur’s cheek with a pudgy hand. The boy was done for after that, vowing up and down that he’d be the best big brother in the world to her even if it killed him. 

Much better than Tommy and Techno too. 

Speaking of the first time Tommy and Techno met you it was quite the experience. Tommy basked in the fact of no longer being the youngest member of the family and Techno was quick to remind him the being the middle child was far worse. Tommy had called him a bitch and Phil told him not to curse in front of his sister which he huffed at, swearing to Phil that her first word would be fuck. 

He got hit on the back of his head for that comment. 

Technoblade was indifferent about that situation, saying orphans were cringe and that you smelled bad, Wilbur was okay with both of these outcomes. As he stated earlier he was going to be the favorite brother whether you knew it or not.

By the time you were ten years old Wilbur’s wish had come true, you stuck by his side and were a quiet staple in his life. He also spoiled you rotten, he made you songs and snuck you cookies when Phil wasn’t looking, he’d do anything to see that smile a smile on your face. However, much to his displeasure it seemed that both Technoblade and Tommy were encroaching on his little happy bubble with his sister. 

It started with Technoblade, he noticed you following him around more often than not. At first, the hybrid was annoyed, he’d lock you out of his room and force you away by threatening to cut off your fingers if you didn’t leave him alone. However, that only made you cry and it made Techno panic if Phil heard you crying he’d be a dead man, and if Wilbur heard he’d be double dead. He began to try to hush you frantically, you didn’t calm down until he stated he would hang out with you a little longer. It shut you up immediately, oh you were a sneaky little shit, he could respect that. He decided he read to you if that was alright, you nodded eagerly, and he carried you into his room. You were a kid of few words and Technoblade could respect that, he pulled out a story about some of the ancient Greek Gods and Goddesses. Figuring the Art of War was probably too much for a ten-year-old, surprisingly he enjoyed himself. You were eager to learn and enjoyed the stories way more than he thought you would, okay maybe you bonded just a little. He had taken to calling you Moirai the greek goddess of destiny, not only that but Technoblade had started bringing you gifts from his adventures, something he never did for anyone else.

Therefore Wilbur was feeling VERY threatened and Technoblade LOVED it. 

However, while the both of them were having their little pissing contest they didn’t notice their younger brother swooping in to join the fight for your attention. As the eldest were at war with themselves, Tommy had taken to sneaking you out of the house to cause trouble by his side. After all, no sister of his was going to be boring like Wilbur and Technoblade, she was going to be as awesome as he was if he had anything to say about it. So when he snuck you out one night against their wishes when they were too busy to notice he decided to take full advantage of that opportunity. He adored hearing your enthusiastic giggles as he tore through the forest with you on his shoulders. 

You were typically a very quiet child, so to hear you laugh because of him made Tommy preen with delight. Your fingers were twisted in his blonde locks as you steered him like a horse, it hurt like hell but so long as it kept you steady he really didn’t mind. 

The joy didn’t last long because Wilbur and Technoblade had found them not soon after he escaped their clutches. Techno plucked you off his shoulders and held you in his arms, you let out a little whine of disappointment and Tommy frowned,

     “Oh come on Technoblade don’t be an asshole!” 

     “Don’t curse in front of (Y/n), Tommy.” Wilbur hissed hitting him on the back of his head, “you can’t just run off with her it’s dangerous!”

     “I can protect her just fine you bitch!” 

     “Oh please, you can barely protect yourself.” Technoblade scoffed as you began to play with his pink hair, hating the tense atmosphere. Tommy snarled at his brother and moved to punch him in the chest but Techno was quick to sidestep them, “nice one genius.” 

     “FUCK OFF!”

You let out a displeased whine and covered your ears at the volume Tommy shouted, 

      “Shut up Tommy,” Wilbur hissed “You’re way too loud and you’re upsetting her.”

     “WE WERE HAVING A LOVELY TIME UNTIL YOU FUCKERS RUINED IT!” 

     “Tom-Tom please shush,” You pressed a finger to your mouth in distress, mimicking a hushing movement. His face faltered, his voice lowering in volume as he apologized softly towards you. “Thank you,” a big smile spread across your lips, and all three brothers visibly relaxed.

     “Alright little one,” Wilbur spoke tenderly running a hand through your hair his heart-melting a little as you nuzzled against it. “Let’s get you home, it’s way past your bedtime.” You groaned in distaste falling against Techno’s shoulder with a soft thud, the man chuckled softly as all three brothers walked back home. 

It was about two months after that when your happy facade came crashing down around you, it had been a particularly rough day. Everyone seemed to be busy with one thing or another and you were left to your own devices and thoughts. They all came rushing back to you, the memories of the day your village got raided and your bio parents passed away. Wilbur was the first to notice something was wrong and had asked Phil to check up on you, so when Phil finally got around to ask what was wrong you burst into tears. That’s when they discovered you apparently remembered more of the incident than you let on. It broke their hearts to see you so upset over something you had no control over, but like everyone else in their family of misfits, you blamed yourself for simply surviving the tragedy. 

They had made sure to coddle you the rest of the day, Technoblade had made sure to make you your favorite food for dinner. Phil and Wilbur tried to keep you busy with music and potion brewing and Tommy played some discs to help you fall asleep. You did so smiling and his heart soared, point to Tommy for getting you to fall asleep with a smile. 

Your found family had gathered that night to discuss what they should do with you moving forward. Phil had declared they all do their best to keep you distracted the next few days, preferably in shifts if that was needed. Wilbur offered to spend the morning with you, he wanted to visit Niki and Sally and both of them loved you if anyone would cheer you up they would. Tommy offered the afternoon and he could bring Tubbo over and you all could play soldiers, Techno said he’d handle the nights with Phil. 

Everyone settled into bed to get a much-needed rest, out of all the brothers Technoblade was the lightest sleeper. So when he woke up in a cold sweat with you standing over his bed he almost shit himself. You had a glassy look in your (e/c) eyes, 

     “(Y/n)? What are you doing? Do you know how late it is?” Technoblade scolded reaching out to grab his glasses, you didn’t respond to him which made his nose scrunch up. “Did you have a nightmare?” His voice got quieter as he reached out to cup your cheek, still no response from you. “Kid?” He sat up as you turned away from him to wander back out the door, “what just happened?” He murmured scratching under his chin, he’d have to bring this up tomorrow. 

Wilbur was concerned and immediately wanted to seek a doctor, especially because you had no remembrance of the event. Phil ran a hand through his hair in thought, “could it be sleepwalking?” 

     “(Y/n)’s too cool to sleepwalk. What the fuck do you mean?” Tommy scoffed and you frowned eyebrows furrowing together. 

     “Well it makes sense, doesn’t it? She doesn’t remember walking around but it clearly happened. Hopefully, it was only a one-off occurrence and she’ll never do it again.”

      “Is it bad if I do?” You whispered shuffling on your feet suddenly self-conscious, “Tommy doesn’t seem to think it’s good.” They all glared at the teenager who winced and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. Phil knelt down in front of you and cupped your cheeks with his hands, 

     “It’s not bad. We just have to take some extra precautions for you is all, it’s perfectly normal especially after the trauma you went through.” You bit your lip and nodded within his hands, “Tommy’s an idiot-”

      “Hey!-

      “That doesn’t make you any less of a person and it doesn’t make you any more abnormal either,” Phil assured as Techno began snickering behind him, he turned his head to shoot him a look.

     “What? It’s just funny assuring her she’s normal when no one in this house is normal.” Technoblade waved his hand, “we’re all a bunch of misfits- don’t give me that look you know it’s true. Half of us are hybrids and the other half are gremlins,” He motioned to Tommy again who made an indigent sound tired of being the butt of everyone’s teasing. “So she’s never gonna be normal, but she’s always gonna be one of us and we’ll kill anyone who even thinks about teasing her.” 

Phil smiled sheepishly sweat gathering on his brow, “Let’s not kill anyone Techno at least not now. Especially if they’re children.”

     “Now, now dad, Technoblade has a point.”

     “Wilbur.” Phil scolded as Tommy’s face lit up, 

     “Can I punch a child?” You burst into laughter at Phil’s horrified expression, 

     “No Tommy. No, you cannot!” 

     “It’s okay papa I give them explicit permission to beat anyone up who fucks with me!” You shouted and Tommy’s face once again lit up, he grabbed you out of Phil’s arms and held you close. 

     “You said Fuck! I’m so proud I’m teaching you so well!” He spun you around only causing you to laugh harder as the older members of your family glared at Tommy, “Now say it again!”

Wilbur plucked you from Tommy’s arms glaring at his brother, “No. No, she won’t say it again. That’s a bad word you can’t say it till you’re older.” A pout settled on your lips as you crossed your arms in frustration. 

     “But Tommy gets to say it all the time.” 

     “And he’s older.” Phil let out a chuckle at Wilbur's response watching you slump forward with a loud groan of absolute torment. 

You didn’t sleepwalk again until a few months later, everyone had relatively assumed it was a one-off occurrence and their watchful eye was lifted. In the meantime Tommy had started to maybe sort of sneak out; he had his bag all packed and planned to meet Tubbo in the park. They both wanted to go monster hunting on their own, it wasn’t their first rodeo but it still wasn’t something he was supposed to do without his dad's permission.

Tommy didn’t give a shit about permission though. 

Obviously. 

He grabbed his sword from its place in the living room, Tommy held it up with a wicked smile. It shone in the dim light and he could see the reflection of his face inside it, it must’ve been freshly polished. Tommy put his sword in its holster and turned around, immediately letting out a startled yelp slapping his hands over his mouth. You were standing behind him eyes glassy as you blinked blearily at him, 

     “(Y/n)?” Tommy whisper hissed glaring at you harshly, “What the fuck are you doing awake?” You didn’t respond, only walking past him reaching for a sword of your own, his eyes widened frantically and steered you away from the sharp weaponry. “Are you sleepwalking?” Tommy asked in mild concern before a smirk came across his face, “Guess I don’t have to worry about you snitching huh?” He slowly led you into Phil’s room opening the door and shoving you in before shutting the door. Tommy made quick work of grabbing everything else needed before heading out of the house to meet up with Tubbo. 

Phil woke up to you standing over him, looming, and it almost sent him into a heart attack. He knew immediately you were sleepwalking, “Oh honey...come ‘ere.” He pulled you into bed with him and watched your eyes drift close and snuggle up to him. At least you were safe with him, so long as you didn’t start unlocking doors and injuring yourself they could handle this. 

After telling the other brothers about the incident last night Wilbur was only growing more concerned about your sleep state. He offered to take you to the doctor but Phil brushed him off, saying that normally this thing sorts themself out on their own. Since he was feeling rather protective Wilbur slept in the living room the next few nights just to make sure you didn’t go wandering off. Plus, Phil seemed to not only approve of but also grateful for the idea; so long as the old man could get much-needed rest he didn’t seem to care. Another week flew by with no problems, and he decided to spend one last night in the living room just to triple-check you weren’t going to sleepwalk. 

He woke up to the sound of a hooting owl and soft banging against the wall, he tossed his hand over the back of the couch and he blinked blearily. Unlike his twin, he didn’t exactly have the razor-sharp reflexes that Technoblade was gifted with. Wilbur grabbed his glasses from the coffee table and shoved them on his face haphazardly. 

What was that noise? Did Tommy sneak out again? He turned towards the opened door and it took a few moments to process why the door was open. Wilbur scratched the top of his head in confusion before his eyes snapped open in blatant realization. He tossed the blankets off the couch and scrambled out the door. Bare footprints were made in the mud leading away from your house, tiny you sized footprints. 

Oh, he was so fucked. How long ago did you leave? Are you alright? It’s so cold and you weren’t wearing shoes.

Wilbur made sure to grab both of your jackets and shoved his feet in his boots before heading out the door. He saw his breath out in front of him and winced you must be so cold, hopefully, you weren’t dead if you were he was totally in big trouble. He followed your footprints until they stopped at the edge of the woods, he looked around frantically and anxiety prickled at his skin. If the trail went cold here there was no way he would be able to find you, what if you woke up in a completely different part of the SMP. Or worse yet what if someone kidnaps you and takes you away from them? 

He entered the woods calling out your name desperately even though you wouldn’t respond if you were still asleep. Wilbur adjusted his glasses noticing a soft trail of broken leaves, he decided it was his best bet to follow them. Eventually, he came to a bit of a clearing in the woods that led up to a large cliff, Wilbur’s heart sunk. He felt his breathing stop as he walked towards the edge of the cliff, slowly like he didn’t want to know if he thinks what happened to you, happened to you. At the very top of the cliff is when he saw it, the bracelet you always wore on your wrist it was made of gold and Technoblade had gifted it to you after an adventure he had with Phil. He pulled the jewelry close to his chest and let out a shaky breath, tears swelled in his eyes as he peeked over the edge of the cliff. The poor boy couldn’t even see the bottom, Phil would have to fly down and search it, he was going to throw up. 

     “Wilby…?” 

Oh god, he could still hear your sweet, little voice. 

     “What are you doing? Are you crying?”

Wait, that was your voice!

He whipped around to find you rubbing your tired eyes, your feet were bare and you were shivering. Wilbur tore through the bush and scooped you up in his arms, cuddling you close to him as he peppered kisses all over your face. “Ewww Wilby stop!” You said through giggles pushing his face away from your own, 

     “I’m so glad you’re alright. You were sleepwalking again, I thought…” His voice cracked a little as you tilted your head. You looked around his shoulder and eyed the cliff wearily, you nuzzled against his neck and squeezed him tightly. 

     “I’m sorry…” 

     “It’s not your fault.” He whispered against you, “let's get you home though alright? Want to have a sleepover with me?”

     “Please. I’m scared I’ll wander off if I sleep alone again.” Wilbur nodded, running his fingers through your messy hair. For a girl your age, it was important to make sure you get a good night's sleep. As he carried you back home you ended up falling back asleep in his arms, he had a lot of time to think. He couldn’t believe that a few years ago he had despised the girl in his arms, thought of you as just another stowaway Phil brought home. You had managed to melt his heart and worm your way into not just his brain but his other brother’s brains as well. You had brought so much joy and happiness into their lives. Before you entered their lives there was arguing every night. Tommy and Techno were always at each other’s throats, Wilbur wasn’t any better, to be honest, but then you were there and everything changed. They had to get along and watch their language around you, you weirdly brought them together. Made them better and he couldn’t imagine what their lives would be like without their little hope.

[specialagentsergio]

rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ , @spencerreid9​

[theamberwizard]

i’ve been thinking about black widow and the red room recently, as one does, and i’ve got a lot of thoughts about the effects of the red room on widows who’ve escaped. couple things, just before i begin: i would recommend having watched black widow before this because there are implied (?) spoilers, i use way too fancy language while i write and i don’t have an editor cause this is mainly to catch her off guard, so, uh, whoops sorry

trigger warnings: TW: child abuse TW: restricted eating/starving yourself TW: dehumanization TW: death of a child

so yeah, enjoy my list of 10 personal headcanons about how the red room fucks you up on all the levels.

1) black widows cannot sleep in. like, they wake up at 5:00 am every day. it’s not a physical thing, at least not as far as they know, because they can negate that by just going to bed two hours or less before 5:00 am just from their lack of sleep. if, however, they go to sleep at a fairly normal hour they will, like clockwork, wake up at 5:00. this stems from them doing it every single day of their life since they got indoctrinated in the red room. if they didn’t wake up at 5:00 am ready for more training or missions, for any reason, they would be tortured. sometimes physically, sometimes mentally. eventually, all the widows would get that message. they still can’t shake it. because of that, natasha will often refuse to go to sleep at a normal hour, trying to force her body into submission, trying to rid herself of the painful memories that accompanied sleep and waking up afterwards. only clint knows why, because each day in that vent, natasha would snap up at 4:00 am. she had to explain to him that she just wasn’t accustomed to budapest time, and that actually, it was 5:00 am in russia.

2) for months after escaping the red room, widows practically cannot eat. in the red room, they were fed mushy messes of meals, filled with only the necessary nutrients that they absolutely had to have to survive. most widows can only get down one meal, maybe even a snack if they push it, until they throw it all up. they have to slowly eat slightly more each day for weeks until they can get down a normal intake of food. even then, it’s hard to push that, and every widow relapses into throwing up in those early stages. however, this isn’t normally a problem for most widows until a couple weeks into their life with freedom. that’s about the time that they make an acquaintance, who will eventually pluck up the courage to ask them why every time said friend will eat near the widow, the widow will lean over and whisper: “careful, that’s your whole ration today and i don’t want to do extra training.”

3) each “class” of widows had an extra mentor teacher in their early red room years. this was an older widow, someone who’d been falling behind in her recent missions, and with a look that the red room deemed “motherly”. their sole purpose was to be the person each widow got attached too, the parental figure. they were nice, they were helpful, they taught many different basic techniques. then, one day, the red room would have another older widow, (one already introduced to the children as the metaphorical “bad cop” of this scenario) come in and inform the mentor that she had failed her latest mission and proceed to, in front of thirty eleven year-olds, shoot the mentor. the mentor widow would not die that day- the red room refused to waste such a weapon- but the class of up incoming widows would be informed that she had. the official purpose of this exercise was to demonstrate to both the trainees and the trainer the consequences of failing a mission. the unofficial purpose? that would be the last psychological effects the mentor’s “death” would have upon the class, making them learn what happened to attachments in the red room. the day natasha’s class experienced this was the day she cut off all contact with her sister. the day yelena experiences this is the day she first another widow- because yelena killed that mentor with her own bare hands before the informant ever finished the announcement.

4) towards the start of the red room’s history, there were several attacks on the red room. the first ever attack was from a local police station who had been getting complaints of loud wailing, and, upon further investigation, realized what they were dealing with. they brought several other police and militia groups from nearby towns. the immediate action that was taken was to throw the littlest girls they had at the attackers. it stopped the police in their tracks, obviously, because you really don’t expect to come across thirty little girls while searching through a building of highly trained assassins. the red room then sent their fully trained widows and killed everyone. including the girls. the red room then found that footage from their cameras (because of fucking course they have cameras) and then showed it to the next batch of widows, just to show them how disposable they were.

5) yelena and natasha almost caused a whole fucking mutiny within the red room just because of their names. in the red room, you see, widows do not get names. they instead are bestowed with numbers, and even those are a twisted class ranking. they all wore little name tags with the numbers on them until came natasha and yelena came in. yelena, having just seen her mother get shot, complied almost immediately and was addressed as number 42. on the other side of that coin you have natasha, who had already been in the red room and remembered every gruesome detail, and went “fuck you my name is natalia.” upon hearing of this (word gets around fast in the red room. every girl must know they are being listened to at all times, and no secrets can be kept from the red room,) yelena too announced her name to the class.

6) this was met with blanching from every child in that class, because how on earth can you be called by a word? no, they thought, we are numbers, we are weapons, we are not people and we cannot have our own words, for we are not worthy. but secretly, internally, they wished for a name. slowly, they began piecing syllables together until they formed a coherent name, and for the first time in the red room’s long history, they didn’t have weapons. not anymore. they have two full classes of human little girls. the red room officials heard of this, obviously, and took to the only method they had now. violence. the classes were rid of the named girls, yet natasha and yelena were kept alive. they were kept alive to be ostracized, to be the girl the others pointed at and said “she’s the reason all my friends died.” they were kept alive so they could watch the carnage they had unwittingly caused just by saying their own names. and the worst part? well, the worst part was when the teachers accounted for those kills, and made them top of the class. yelena will never forget the day the teachers stood her and her sister up in front of all the widows-in-traning and told them what a good job they had done, how those tactics were sure to help them graduate. i mean, you’re practically a shoo-in if they rest of your class was killed by your school.

7) the red room could never fully stop the names, and so they decided to make a system, and the names would be the highest reward. they told the young, impressionable girls that while maybe outsiders such as natasha and yelena got names at birth, you had to earn them here. if you are to become a spy, you will take on the name of you very first official alias. if, instead, you become an assassin, you will take on the name of your very first official kill. of course, in reality, the widows couldn’t actually address each other with their new earned names, and instead used “team leader” or other such titles. but it became a small comfort for them, thinking of themselves in third person, with their very own names. in some small part they weren’t fully weapons anymore, no, they were people again. natasha took on the name natalia, because in her mind that life in ohio had been her first mission, even if she hadn’t known it. yelena took on yelena as well, but in her mind that little girl in ohio who was sitting in the backseat, caring only about which song they played, that girl had to have been yelena’s first true kill.

8) the names system worked well in the red room, but when you escaped it caused some serious problems. most would have to announce themselves to the russian government, saying they had been flying under the radar their whole life and never became registered. then, they’d give a non-russian name, and their whole ruse would fall apart. unfortunately, this was the least of their problems, because many a widow would someday meet a relative of their very first kill, and when they introduced themselves as the person they had killed all those years ago, the families and friends would often figure them out.

9) one of the biggest parts of the red room’s brainwashing was their little catchphrases they used. ironically, a lot of them were eerily close to boy scout mottos- “be prepared,” an iconic scout motto, versus “there is no safety, only preparedness,” the most frequently used phrase within the red room. when widows then escaped, the most small phrase could set them off. some unknowing widows even adopted little boys in their new lives, who often became boy scouts. the ensuing misery is something you can imagine yourself.

10) after clint helped natasha to escape, she immediately died her hair blond.  clint asked why, of course, and she didn’t tell him. (what, you thought i’d have another cute clintasha moment? never.) this was partly because she hadn’t admitted it to herself, though, because natasha couldn’t remember her sister without remembering all the suffering that came with her.

11) when the widows were smaller, more susceptible to the conditioning, the red room would stage infiltrations. older widows, ones who were closer to retirement, would come in in different uniforms, sometimes the uniforms of UN officers or local police, sometimes different organizations, all different types. the most recent uniforms made yelena sick looking at them, because each time the older widows would pretend to be the avengers there would also be one pretending to be her sister. each time she saw the fake natasha she wanted to break that widow’s neck because that’s not how my sister tilts her head, you’re doing it all wrong. you should be doing it like this, you shouldn’t be doing it at all, i should be doing this, i know my sister. each time those exact thoughts went into her head, and each time all she really wanted was for her sister to be there, for natasha to do her little head tilt upon seeing yelena and take her hand and say “you’re safe now, i promise,” and for natasha to be telling the truth. the only problem was that deep down inside herself yelena knew that this could never actually happen while yelena was still in the red room, because while yelena was still in the red room she knew that she would look at natasha telling her she was safe and tell her in return that there was no safety, only preparedness, and then murder her sister in cold blood.

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.

[lunmelia]

Listen I know that Jack had to “grow up fast” because the world is a “dangerous place” or whatever but if he was born a baby?? I would’ve watched the hell out of that show. Just two dudes, their mum and an angel raising the devil’s baby. Because I say that they kicked Lucifer’s ass to the alternate world and everyone lives (except Kelly. Sorry.). Could you imagine? 

You have Mary; the woman who has experience in raising two babies, even if one was only for six months.

You have Dean; the man who basically raised Sam and has vague memories of helping out when his brother was a baby. Helped Lisa with her son and baby niece. Took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Also had a daughter for a couple of days but didn’t interact with her much. 

You have Sam; not much experience. Also took care of a shapeshifter baby for a day. Strong in research, might manage to find them at least a paragraph of how to raise a nephilim. Killed his niece. Not a great sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 

You have Castiel; the angel expert. Is a literal angel. Has no experience with babies apart from that one night he babysat for his co-worker. Kind-of-sort-of-not-really a dad to a teenage girl. Only times he’s had to interact with a nephilim is when he’s been ordered to kill one, so, not a good sign but he promises he won’t do that this time. 

Together, they make do. But holy shit is raising Jack tough. 

He may not have a true form like Castiel but he does have wings and a true voice. Which he can’t control. So the tantrums. The tantrums. When he was born he made their ears bleed from the crying, and the lights exploded. Cas was miraculously able to calm him down before further damage was done, but the humans always make sure to have earplugs on them from then on. They also had to buy a large supply of lightbulbs to replace the ones in the bunker every time he cries. 

They had to baby proof the bunker. And I mean baby proof the hell out of the bunker. You think a normal house can be dangerous for a baby? The bunker is huge. And full of knives, guns, spellbooks, ancient artifacts, and just about a thousand other things that are not. good. to have around a baby. The baby proofing took a week. Two days of exploring the bunker and recording everything that needed to be baby-proofed, two shopping trips in a day to buy the things needed, and another three days of installing everything. Cas had to stay with Jack in his room while Mary, Sam and Dean did all the baby proofing. 

(also yes this is an AU in which Dean and Cas get their shit together, confess their feelings, build a house and raise Jack as his dads. the build a house part comes in when Jack is like 3)

The absolute freakout Dean had when Jack flew the first time. It happened when he was five months old, and Dean was changing his diaper. He turned around for a second to throw out the wipes. Heard the flap of wings, turned back around with a greeting for Cas on his lips, and Jack was gone. It went like this: Dean, staring at the empty table: ... Jack? Jack- *realisation* Cas! Cas, the baby’s gone! Cas! The baby can fly! Baby’s flying- Cas, appearing in front of him with a giggling Jack in his arms: yes, I am well aware Dean: oh my god- Jack: *disappears again* Dean: *yelps in alarm* Cas: *simply reaches up and just. plucks Jack out of thin air. one moment there’s empty air and the next Jack is just in Cas’ hands* Cas: this may become... difficult Dean, leaning over with his hands on his knees: I’m gonna have a heart attack

Turns out, baby Jack can heal! Which is what Mary discovered when once she had held Jack after coming back from a hunt with a few scrapes, they miraculously disappeared. 

You know when toddlers will get into the flour and leave a mess that you have to clean up for the next two hours? Yeah, well Jack got into a box of spellbooks and opened one which released monsters from fables. So that was a very panic-filled 6 hours that included Sam, Dean and Mary researching how to put them back / kill them while Cas held Jack close to make sure he didn’t fly away. Turns out, baby-proofing a bunker is pretty useless when said baby can fly through walls.

Apart from the many mishaps thathappened during raising Jack from infancy to toddlerhood, he’s just a weird kid. And kids are usually weird, but Jack is weird. 

Sam basically sprinted back to the car with a five-year-old Jack in his arms after Jack had held a woman’s hand in his at a playground and gently told her, “the events that lead to your father’s death were never your fault. He is in his Heaven now and although he is at peace, he begs that you make room in your heart for forgiveness of his wrong doings.” Yeah, they were very close to moving town when that happened. 

One day when he was 6, he walked outside into the back yard and just sat down in a random spot and stared at the ground. After a couple of minutes of glancing out the window to check on him, Dean walked up to him. Dean: whatchu up to, kid? Jack: there is a daisy that is going to grow and bloom here in 15 days. I’ve never seen a flower grow. I would like to watch it, if that’s okay? Dean: you want to sit here, in this exact spot, for 15 days so you can watch a flower grow? Jack, still not taking his eyes off the spot: yes Dean, who’s honestly used to this behaviour after witnessing it for the past two years: ... alright, sure. I’ll bring you dinner in a couple of hours, that sound good? Jack, finally looking up with a beaming smile: yes, thank you! (Cas and Dean did not let him sit in the same spot for 15 days. They did sit next to him for like two hours when the daisy did bloom, though. And despite the creak and buzzing ache in his knees and back, Dean can’t find it in himself to regret it.) 

he had a phase when he was 7 where he would say hi to everyone he came across. Everyone. Dean and Cas cannot make one shopping trip with him without everyone in that store knowing Jack’s name. He says bye when they leave too. 100% every time they get at least 5 people saying bye back. 

On the year he turned 8 they decided to enrol him in school. After weeks of telling him not be “weird” and teaching him to be as normal of a kid as he could be. When the 4 of them are confidant that he won’t go around using his powers, they enrol him. They did not anticipate the school calling him the first day, telling them that Jack had explained to the other kids that Santa isn’t real and they should “learn to not set themselves up for disappointment or believe what their parents say” which caused the entire class to burst out into tears. It was another “maybe we should move town” moment.

Another kid: my dad broke his leg. he has to walk with crutches now. sometimes he lets me use them! Jack: both my dads have died. one of them was torn to shreds by hellhounds who then dragged his soul down to hell where he was tortured for 40 years, but then father rescued him, that was how they met. but then father was blown to bits by my biological father. but then my grandfather resurrected him! they’re fine now.  Their teacher: uh, wow... Jack. sure sounds like you have some very vivid dreams Jack, remembering he’s not supposed to talk about this kind of stuff: ah, yes, of course... dreams. I woke up... crying. a lot. the dreams... scared me. 

I have... so many other little moments in my head, but this post is already so long so let me know if anyone wants more. 

[fanficimagery]

Misery Business pt. I

Imagine moving in with the Molina's after an incident back home. Instead of being angry, you realize this is your second chance to be truly happy and you really hope it goes better than your first attempt.

Words: 6.1K Author's Note: I'm a sucker for three idiot ghost boys which is why I'm back, only in this imagine everyone is alive. Yes that includes Rose Molina as well :) Soulmate!AU too so have fun with that. FYI, Y/N will be "musically talented" but since I can't write music to save my life then "Y/N's music" will come from a little band that goes by the name of Paramore and by James Arthur.

Julie and three of her best guy friends are in the family studio outside, writing and jamming and just having the time of their life. Alex, Reggie, and Luke are about two years older than Julie, but the boys overlooked the teeny tiny age gap because her killer voice was exactly what their band was missing. The entire high school knew exactly who the boys of Sunset Curve were so they were all surprised when they took sophomore Julie Molina under their wing and rebranded their band.

Julie's family was very supportive of her music, especially her mother Rose, and she let Julie and the boys use her studio whenever they wanted so long as they all kept up their grades. They're usually left alone when Julie and Luke are in writing mode, so it's a bit of a surprise to see Ray and Rose entering the studio.

Alex is the first to notice them, nudging Reggie and gesturing to Mr. and Mrs. Molina, and then Reggie tosses a pillow at Luke's head to get his attention. Luke's rather rude remark is on the tip of his tongue, but his eyes widen upon seeing Julie's parents.

"Jules. Julie!" He hisses. "Your mom and dad are here."

"Hmm. What?" Julie finally looks away from her journal, her eyes widening before a beaming smile breaks out. "Mami! Papi. What brings you two here?"

"Hey mija," Ray says. "Can we talk real quick?"

"Of course!"

She glances at the boys and they're quick to start packing up, but Ray gestures for them to stay put. "It's okay, boys. You can stay for this."

Rose smiles. "After all, you are family too."

Every time Rose or Ray mention that the boys are family, they can't help but smile goofily. None of the boys have the type of relationship with their parents that Julie has with hers, so they're all grateful the Molina's accept them as if they were a Molina as well. Julie smiles as the boys, who are all practically older brothers to her, gather around her and Luke to hear what's going on.

On his way further into the studio, Ray grabs a chair for Rose and she takes a seat while Ray stands behind her, gripping the back of her chair. "Okay," he exhales a little roughly, "so you know the drama your cousin went through a few months ago?"

Julie frowns. "Yeah."

"Well it seems Y/N isn't doing so well," Rose says. "Your tía thinks a change of location is what's best for her."

"Y/N wants to move here?"

"Well not exactly," Ray says. "Y/N doesn't know. If we agree to take her in, then Y/N will be told of her relocation."

Julie nods, looking thoughtful. "Okay."

"Okay?" Ray muses. "What does okay mean?"

"Well I'm assuming you're only telling me because you never make a big decision without seeing what me and Carlos think," Julie says and then smiles brightly. "I love Y/N. Carlos loves Y/N, so I know he already voted yes."

Rose chuckles. "He did. I believe his words were I will throw down for Y/N any day of the week. Bring her home."

Julie snorts. "Of course he did." Then after glancing between her mom and dad, she nods with a gentler smile. "Whatever she needs. I'll even decorate the guest bedroom for her."

"That's nice, mija." Ray then looks over the boys, eyes settling on Reggie. "No flirting."

"I- what?"

"No flirting!"

Luke and Alex snort as Reggie gasps in mock outrage, but everyone knows Reggie is the one to flirt first and ask questions later. Ray and Rose laugh as they ready to leave the studio, Rose walking over to kiss her daughter on the temple before disappearing after her husband.

As soon as the teenagers are left alone, the boys whirl on Julie.

"So who's Y/N?" Alex asks, smiling innocently.

"And what was the drama a few months ago?" Luke wonders.

Julie glances between all three boys before sighing. "I'm only telling you this because it's highly likely she'll be coming soon." She has their full attention. "Y/N is my older cousin. Last year she met her soulmate."

"Aww," Alex coos.

"Or so we thought."

His smile immediately falls. "Oh."

Julie cringes. "Yeah. Apparently some new transfer student at her school liked my cousin so much that he decided he wanted to be her one and only. Really creepy dude," she says. "So somehow he figured out what her words were and made sure those were the first words he spoke to her." Their eyes widen. "When she spoke to him in return, he memorized the words and had them tattooed on. Then he refused to let her see the words, under the guise that they were in a private spot she couldn't see until they got to know each other better, until they healed."

"What the hell," Luke breathes. "That such a-"

"Dick move," Reggie mutters.

Alex nods in agreement. "Yeah. What they said."

Julie smiles sadly at her friends. "She was with him for a year before he met his real soulmate and then he tried to juggle them both. Y/N was really torn up about it."

"Who wouldn't be?" Alex says. "That is so messed up."

"It is. But if there's one thing I know about my cousin it's that she doesn't want people to tiptoe around her." Julie grins then. "So be yourselves like you are with me, just don't flirt with her."

Alex stares down his two guy best friends until they huff and nod in agreement. "I think they can handle that."

Stepping out of the Uber in front of your tío's house, you're grateful you stopped being annoyed with your mom for making you move long enough to accept the money she transferred into your bank account. The ride from the airport to the Molina household wasn't exactly a cheap one and you regretted not letting your family pick you up when you saw what you owed.

But now you're here, one duffel bag hanging from your shoulder and a medium-sized suitcase sitting by your feet. You only have a moment to take it all in before the front door is opening, and your tío and tía are exiting the house to greet you.

"You're here!" Rose smiles and is quick to pull you into a hug. "How was your flight?"

"Decent. Just a little turbulence. I might have barfed. Twice."

Rose and Ray laugh, and then Ray's tugging you into a hug of his own. "We're so glad to have you, mija. Julie and her friends have just about finished with your room. They're really excited to have you here."

"And I'm excited to be here." Pulling out of the hug, you're met with two identical expressions that practically say Are you really?. "Well now I am." All three of you chuckle. "I was a little upset at the short notice, but I'm totally over it. I am a little tired though, so yeah."

"Oh. Of course. Just head on up, mija. You know where the guest bedroom is," Rose says. "Ray and I need to go get some groceries for tonight. Does arroz con pollo sound good?"

You groan quietly. "It sounds fantastic. My mom could never quite make it like you do."

Ray laughs. "Well my sister is not the cook she claims to be. Now go on. Rest up and we'll see you for dinner."

As Ray and Rose take their leave, you grab your suitcase and drag it inside behind you. You can hear laughter coming from upstairs so that's where you head towards, and you're not surprised to see Julie, Flynn, and who appears to be Julie's bandmate Alex tacking up some fairy lights and draping them across your headboard. The bedroom, which was usually bare except for the bed and dresser, has many of your personal things scattered about that had been shipped a little over a week ago now. However the sheer black curtains, the maroon comforter bed set, and the lights they're hanging up are all new.

"A-hem." You clear your throat, smiling when all three teens freeze and turn towards you. "Are you guys seriously having fun without me?" The blonde boy grins as the two girls squeal, you dropping your duffel bag next to your suitcase just as Julie and Flynn launch themselves at you. Your arms are spread wide as they wrap themselves around you and you bring your own arms down around their shoulders to squeeze them in return. "Did you girls miss me?"

"Uh duh!" Flynn is the first to retort.

Julie pulls back just enough to look you in the face. "We're going to have so much fun."

"So much." You can't help but chuckle, your attention then sliding to the quiet blonde. "Alex, right?"

He smiles. "Yeah. Hi. It's nice to meet you."

"You too, man. I keep up with the band on Youtube and can I just say that you absolutely kill it on the drums? I mean holy shit. You're awesome!"

Alex blushes as Julie points at him. "See! Own your awesomeness. My cousin thinks you're cool, therefore you are cool."

Both girls finally release you, Flynn stumbling back to sit on the edge of what is now your bed. Julie stays right where she's at, arm wrapped around your waist as you both stare at her bandmate. You nod and smile at him. "You really are. We definitely need to jam some time."

Alex seems to perk up then. "Y-You're into music too?"

Flynn snorts. "The Molina's are all freakishly talented. I'm almost jealous."

You roll your eyes fondly at Flynn. "Shush. You're talented in other areas." Then looking at Alex, you grin. "I sing and write. Not as amazing as Julie, of course, but I can hold my own. I like to perform-"

"Just not in front of an audience," Julie muses.

"-and just let go. The rush of it all feels good." You turn to pout at your cousin. "And yeah, not in front of an audience of strangers." You stare at Alex once more. "Friends and family is fine, just not like a legit stage. I'll projectile vomit like that one girl in Pitch Perfect." All three teens snort, that movie having been popular with all of them.

Alex then grins. "We'll definitely have to jam then once you're settled in."

A brief moment of silence descends upon the room, but Flynn is not having it. She claps her hands once, garnering everyone's attention. "So before we get comfortable, lets address the elephant in the room." You groan as she smiles broadly. "How are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, guys."

"Really? Your sudden move states otherwise."

"Flynn!" Julie scolds. Alex seems to freeze, his gaze darting between you and Flynn.

Flynn grimaces as she seems to think she's crossed a line, but you merely roll your eyes. "What exactly did my mom tell your dad?" You turn to ask Julie.

"Um," she gulps and fidgets in place. "I was just told that you weren't doing so good after everything that happened."

You snort. "Seriously?" Julie nods and you chuckle, shaking your head. "Guys, I'm fine. Honestly! I got over the heartbreak like a week after it happened and then I was just pissed off. But my friends helped me realize some things and I'm good now."

"But then why did your mom say you weren't?" Julie wonders.

"I love my mom, but she's a moron," you say. You drag Julie over to your bed, kicking off your shoes along the way and crawl to sit against the headboard. Julie does the same and you gesture for Alex to join Flynn at the foot of your bed. He does, smiling to be included. Once everyone's settled, you say, "So Jerry, who was the guy pretending to be my soulmate," you explain for Flynn and Alex, "has been trying to get in contact with me ever since I blocked him on everything I could. A couple weeks ago while I was out partying with some friends, Jerry and his soulmate were at the same party I was at. I didn't notice them, but they noticed me and they somehow managed to come up with the idea that I was stalking them."

"What a bitch," Flynn immediately blurts. Alex nods along with her.

"Anyway, Jerry's soulmate confronted me and I was completely blindsided by how angry she was with me. I mean, Jerry's the one who tricked me! Not the other way around." You shake your head in annoyance. "She made some hella stupid accusations and she threw a punch."

Julie gasps. "She didn't!?"

"She did. Now I'm not stupid, so I let her hit me a couple of times before I took my first swing. Fortunately for me, she clawed me," you pull your shirt down to show them three marks just above your cleavage, "and she was arrested when the cops got there. After giving my statement and getting statements from the witnesses, they determined I acted in self defense and let me go home. Mom took the little altercation as me spiraling and acting out, so she shipped me off."

"Jesus," Julie sighs. "That's messed up."

"It really is. But oh well. What happened, happened, and now I get to live with my favorite people."

All four of you laugh before Alex gestures towards your chest, sobering up some. "I have some cream that you can use so it'll fade the scars. My soulmate likes to skateboard and he gets pretty banged up every now and then so I keep a stash of that stuff for him."

You smile fondly at him. "Yes, please. The first time my real soulmate sees the girls," you shimmy your chest just the slightest, "I don't want him to see my battle wounds."

Julie swats you with the back of your hand and you laugh at her exasperated expression as the other two break down into giggles.

Lounging around in your room, you ask Julie about her other two bandmates but Alex tells you they had family obligations they couldn't get out of. Carlos gets dropped off by his friend's mom and he joyously jumps onto the middle of the bed when he realizes you're finally there. So that's how Ray and Rose find the five of you, laughing and joking in your new room before dinner is ready and making plans to hang out the following day when everyone could meet up.

After explaining to your tío and tía the real reasoning your mother had you sent away, it was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders and they were more at ease in your presence. You laughed at their sheepishness, at how they thought they had a rightfully heartbroken teenager on their hands with no clue how to ease said heartache. But when all was said and done, everyone seemed to be themselves around you.

Alex had shown up that afternoon, soulmate in tow, and immediately you asked to play with Willie's hair. Both boys had laughed, Willie agreed and readily sat on the floor between your knees as Julie and Alex Facetimed Flynn about any upcoming open mic nights they could book. Willie had a box of random hair supplies in his lap and you saw how he kept running his fingers over a feather and some small silver hoops. Without even asking him, you grabbed a couple of silver hoops, a feather, and set them aside. You had him tilt his head and he did so without questions, closing his eyes as you started to part and section the hair on the right side of his head. Alex smiled every time he looked over at the two of you and you happily gave Willie three thin braids about five inches long before letting the rest of his hair hang loose. The two outer braids had the silver hoops clipped in and the braid in the middle held the feather you had braided in with a thin leather cord. When you were finished and then combed out Willie's hair one last time, you told him you were done and had to bite back a laugh at the way Alex gulped. Willie eagerly went to check himself out in the mirror, beaming at his reflection before turning around and pulling you into a hug.

While your tío Ray and tía Rose worked, and Carlos spent time at his friend's house, you and Julie ordered in some pizza for yourselves, Alex, and Willie. They had no plans at all for the day so the four of you went out to Rose's studio garage when Flynn finally showed up.

Flynn has the bright idea to do karaoke, pulling out the equipment and setting up a laptop Julie had in the studio for this occasion.

Flynn killed it on Nicki Minaj's Starships, you and Julie sang Mamma Mia and were joined by a very enthusiastic Alex. Willie absolutely refused to sing, but that was okay because he knew the choreography for Backstreet Boys Everybody and you eagerly pulled him up to dance with yourself and Julie. Tío Ray and Tía Rose showed up with Carlos in tow, and you and Julie laughed joyously as her parents sang through Journey's Don't Stop Believin'.

Everyone was laughing and having a good time, but as the sun was going down the parental figures went inside to talk through dinner ideas and clean up a little.

You ask Julie if she has any originals you have yet to hear, but as she goes to go grab a journal Alex speaks up. "What about you? You said you wrote, right? I need to hear an original."

"I, uh, sure." You shrug. You turn towards Julie, eyeing the laptop. "Are my instrumentals still on there?"

She grins. "Yeah. Can I choose?"

"Go for it." You get up to go see which song of yours she's going to choose, smiling softly when you see her choice. Alex is practically bouncing in his seat, Willie is shaking his head at him in fond amusement, and Flynn looks torn between recording with her phone. When you nod at her, she beams and gets ready to hit record on her phone.

"So before Julie hits play, I just want you guys to know I wrote this song while I was Jerry. He absolutely loathed it when he first heard it because he thought I was singing about someone else." You huff a laugh. "The song was honestly about a couple on a TV show I got fixated on, but he didn't believe me. So anyway, I might be a little rusty, but Julie loves it so here goes nothing.

Julie hits play. The violin starts and you smirk when you see Alex's eyebrows raise. Then the drums, guitar, and bass kick in and his eyes widen just as his jaw drops when your attitude completely changes.

"I'm in the business of misery, let's take it from the top. She's got a body like an hourglass, it's ticking like a clock. It's a matter of time before we all run out. When I thought he was mine, she caught him by the mouth."

You keep singing, singing to Julie, but then it goes silent before the chorus kicks in and you find yourself back to back with your cousin as she joins you. "Woah, it was never my intention to brag. To steal it all away from you now. But God, does it feel so good 'cause I got him where I want him now. And if you could, then you know you would 'cause God, it just feels so.. It just feels so good."

Willie whoops and you laugh your way through the next few lines, rocking your shoulders and even throwing in a couple of head bangs for good measure.

But then the music quiets just so and you face the boys. "I watched his wildest dreams come true and not one of them involving you. Just watch my wildest dreams come true. Not one of them involving.." You head bang now, twisting your head back and forth so your hair wildly flips back and forth. Julie plays the air guitar and you're laughing, having made yourself dizzy in the process. But then as one particular part comes up, you sidle up to Julie's side, your face just inches from the side of her own face as she stares forward. "Woah I never meant to brag, but I got him where I want him now."

Your chest aches from putting your all into your own song, sweat beading at your hairline as you jump around dancing. You're exhausted by the end of the song, but it's well worth it to see Alex's gobsmacked expression.

The studio falls silent, but it's Willie and Flynn who jump to their feet. Their utter amazement and joyfulness makes you a little sheepish, but then Alex is standing to his feet. "Holy shit."

"Right?" Julie cackles. "I've been begging her to play live with us for one song, but she won't."

"Are you frickin' kidding me?!" The new voice has your head snapping in it's direction, the boy in a leather jacket and red flannel wrapped around his waist staring at you in wonder. "What is it with you Molina's and your musical talents?"

Your face flames at his praise, eyes then darting to the boy with shaggy hair and a sleeveless shirt gaping at you. You chuckle nervously and Julie wraps an arm around your shoulders, grinning as she introduces you. "And here we have Reggie and Luke. Guys, this is my cousin Y/N."

"Dude, will you marry me?" Luke's words make everyone laugh out loud, but you freeze.

Julie, having felt you tense up, stares at you. "Y/N? Are you-"

But you cut her off, eyes solely on Luke as you say, "Bro, don't call me dude." Your mocking tone makes Flynn snort.

Not only is it Luke's turn to freeze, but so do Alex and Reggie. Their eyes widen as they stare between you and Luke, your heart beating triple when you realize just who this is.

"Oh my god," Alex mutters.

"Oh my god!" Reggie exclaims, smile instantly beaming.

"OH MY GOD!" Julie shouts, arm tightening around your shoulder. "Did he just- did you just say.." You nod, your breathing becoming a little erratic. Julie notices and turns you so she grips you by the shoulders and you're staring directly into her face. "Hey, it's okay. You're fine. Luke's one of the good ones."

You gulp. "I- it's not that," you murmur. "But he said.. and I need to see-"

Before you can finish, the presence of said boy is right next to you and Julie. You startle at his appearance, but then he's holding out his arm between you and your cousin and you glance down to see the words that have been stamped into his skin since the day of his birth. There on the space just below the crease of his elbow are the words bro, don't call me dude.

You laugh, a little wetly, but no one dares to call you out on it. Instead, you turn and lift your shirt so he can see his own words stamped on your ribs. A faint touch has you flinching away and giggling, and Julie snorts as you pout at Luke who seems to realize you're ticklish.

"OH MY GOD! YOU GUYS ARE SOULMATES!" Flynn shouts. "THIS IS SO COOL!"

And just like that the tension is broken, everyone laughing and cheering. You're having trouble holding Luke's gaze, his crinkled eyes and swoon-worthy smile making you want to reach out and hug him. So when you see his fingers twitch and tap out a beat against his leg before he clenches his fists closed, you cave and pull him into a hug. He hesitates a moment before he sighs, wrapping his arms tightly around you in return.

"Hey. ¿Qué está pasando? (What's going on?) Rose wonders. Apparently the cheering had caught tía Rose and tío Ray's attention.

You and Luke break apart, but your arms remain touching as you both stare at Julie's parents like you'd been caught doing something wrong. And since the two of you can't seem to form words, Julie giggles before filling them in. "Luke and Y/N are soulmates. They said each other's words."

Ray and Rose immediately look at you in shock, and you can feel your face heating up. Slowly, you smile at your tía's concerned expression and immediately she's beaming as she makes a beeline for you. "Mija! That's wonderful news." You laugh as she hugs you and then laugh even harder when you see your tío Ray clamp a hand down on Luke's shoulder. Then releasing you and turning towards Luke, tía Rose smiles as she opens her arms wide before moving in to hug him. "I'm happy for you too, mijo. Welcome to the family." Then pulling back, she says, "Not that you weren't already part of the family, but you know."

Luke chuckles, ears turning red. "Thanks, Mrs. Molina."

"Well this is a cause for celebration," Ray says. "Anyone feeling up to pasta?" Julie, Flynn, and Reggie all whoop in unison. "You going to join us, Willie?"

Willie, never usually around for long periods of time with Julie's family, is surprised to be invited. Alex beams at his soulmate and Willie knows he can't say no. "Sure, Mr. Molina. Thanks for the invite."

"Great," Rose smiles. "Well now that that's settled, I'm going to go make a reservation so we don't give the hostess a stroke when we all walk in. Everyone has two hours before we leave."

Tía Rose and tío Ray congratulate you and Luke one last time before they take their leave. Everyone follows after them, excitingly talking outfit choices, but Reggie remains by the opened doors smiling between you and Luke. A second later, Alex returns and marches a reluctant Reggie away.

Now that it's just you and Luke, the two of you laugh nervously.

"So.."

"So.." You both laugh nervously again and then you're groaning. "This is so weird, but like I'm also really excited."

Luke loses some of his nerves and his shoulders slump. "Really? You're excited?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

He turns sheepish then, averting his gaze as he shoves his hands into the front of his jean's pockets. "Julie might have explained the shitty thing your ex did and yeah. I would understand if you weren't stoked to meet me on your second day here."

He's so genuine in his explanation that you can't help but mentally swoon at this boy before you. You're not sure where the sudden confidence comes from, but you're grateful for it when you step closer and take his face in the palm of your hands so he's staring right at you. "Okay one, my mother didn't properly explain why she moved me here. I'll fill you in later, but I'm telling you right now it's not because I'm heartbroken or anything. And two, I am stoked to meet you. You wanna know why?" Luke can only nod as he pays close attention and you grin at him. "Because the moment realization sunk in, everything just felt.. it felt-"

"Right?" He asks, voice low.

You nod. "It felt right. There was no uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach, there was just elation. Like I found something I didn't know I was looking for until you uttered the words etched on my ribs."

Luke slowly smiles and you let your hands fall to your sides, leaning in and quickly kissing his cheek. "Now come on. We need to get ready for tonight."

His cheeks turn red almost immediately, but you don't say anything as you grab his arm and drag his hand from his pocket. Then clasping his hand within your own, you drag him out of the studio and up towards the house.

Dinner was quite the affair, everyone pushing you and Luke next to one another at the table and cooing over how adorable you two were. Even his parents, Emily and Mitch, had been invited along and everyone smiled throughout the entire dinner. The table was quite loud, but not a single customer nearby or the waitresses could blame you when Reggie loudly explained that they were celebrating newly found soulmates. There was even applause that had you and Luke turning red in the face and then trying to aim a kick at Reggie's shin under the table. Unfortunately, Alex took the brunt of both kicks.

When the weekend was over, Luke and the boys stood by your side on your first day of school. The band had quite the following and those fangirls of theirs were not impressed to see you and Luke hand-in-hand. It was a bit daunting navigating the hallways with a majority of the school's population looking down their nose at you, but then Julie, Flynn, and surprisingly Carrie Wilson (your cousin's arch-nemesis) came to your aide. You understood Julie and Flynn's protectiveness, but Carrie's was a shock and she merely flipped her hair over her shoulder while giving the excuse that no one should be shit on just because they found their soulmate. The girls were stunned, but shrugged it off and let Carrie do what Carrie wanted to do.

Tía Rose and tío Ray saw a lot more of Luke at their home, but didn't put up any fuss. The only thing they asked was that if they were alone in the room, then the bedroom door was to remain open at all times. And not wanting to disappoint them, you and Luke abided by their rules. Because being with Luke.. it was the complete opposite than being with Jerry. There were no nerves, no second guessing, and no jealousy. You were happy to be with Luke and vice versa, and either of you could go out with friends with no twenty questions about who you were going with and where (Jerry seriously did a number on you).

You became Julie and the Phantoms number one fan, alongside Willie and Flynn, and sat up in the loft with Willie while the band rehearsed downstairs. The times you did go downstairs after rehearsals and Luke bounded over to you like an eager puppy, you had to fight the urge to chuck something at Reggie and Julie when they cooed over how cute you were together.

Luckily for you, Luke wasn't into PDA other than hand holding or hugs. But it still didn't stop your friends from mockingly groaning for you to get a room when Luke would hug you from behind and stay there with his chin hooked over your shoulder.

Today is one of the rare days the band left Luke alone so he could spend the time with you, but you're stuck doing Algebra II homework and Luke is going through one of your old writing journals for abandoned lyrics to give him inspiration.

You've been stuck on the same problem for what feels like twenty minutes when you hear Luke sharply inhale. You glance up at him, watching him read through something that's clearly caught his attention. You can't help but grin at his look of concentration and then his expression falls and your heart suddenly aches.

Luke glances up and you gulp. "What's this?"

"What's what?"

He glances back down at the journal in his hands before looking at you once more. "Something titled Train Wreck. It looks like a completed song."

Your expression completely goes lax then. "Oh. That's, uh, I wrote that a while back when my mom and dad were going through their divorce." You close the math book in your lap and hesitantly meet Luke's gaze. "That was not a fun time for all involved. My mind was kind of.. messed up back then."

Luke gulps. "I don't want to seem inconsiderate of what clearly was a dark time for you, but this- this is really good, Y/N. Do you have a melody for it?"

You huff a laugh, shaking your head in fond amusement. Only Luke would be this invested in a song. "I do. I think it's on the laptop in a password protected file.."

His eyes light up. "Can I hear it? You don't have to, I just-"

"It's fine." You get up, heading over to the laptop and powering it up to find what you need. After a bit of searching, you find it and open it up. Letting the melody play, you look up at Luke. "I won't sing the whole thing, but I'll sing a portion of it."

He eagerly nods. "I'll take anything."

You smile at him, nervously taking a seat on a crate in the middle of the room. He finds another crate and places it close to you, wanting to be as close as possible. You close your eyes, smiling, and let the melody wash over you as the lyrics come back to you in a flash. Your heart beat is beating double, but you inhale deeply and let it out slowly.

Losing yourself to the music, you mouth the lyrics to yourself until letting your voice ring out. "Underneath our bad blood, we've still got a sanctum. Home, still a home, still a home here. It's not too late to build it back 'cause a one in a million chance is still a chance, still a chance and I would take those odds."

You open your eyes, chest aching as all those feelings from so long ago come rushing back and make your voice just that much stronger. "Unbreak the broken, unsay these spoken words. Find hope in the hopeless, pull me out of the train wreck." Luke grabs your hand and you squeeze it for all your worth as you keep looking forward. "Unburn the ashes, unchain the reactions now. I'm not ready to die, not yet. Pull me out of the train wreck. Pull me out, pull me out, pull me out."

You meet Luke's gaze then, a little surprised to see his eyes red rimmed and teary through your own blurry vision. "You can say what you like, don't say I wouldn't die for it. I'm down on my knees and I need you to be my God, be my help, be a Savior who can-"

Your voice cracks on the next word and Luke tugs on your hand, pulling you into a hug. A sob escapes your throat as you cling to Luke, but you quickly stifle it against his shoulder. As the melody plays out, you press your forehead to his shoulder before pushing back and sniffling. "I, uh, I'm sorry about that. Everything came rushing back and I-"

"Don't apologize." Luke catches your face in the palm of his hands, thumbs brushing away your tears before his lips press against your forehead. The action is so soft that your expression crumples momentarily, but you quickly mask it when Luke pulls back to catch your gaze. "That was amazing, Y/N! So amazing. And I'm sorry it brought up bad memories, but.. wow."

You huff a laugh, pulling back so you aren't hunched over. Luke, however, refuses to stop touching you and catches your hands within his own. "I should have guessed you'd be easily impressed."

"For you? Always."

You shake your head, grinning. "You're so freakin' cheesy, Luke Patterson."

He chuckles and again you're hit with a sudden boost of confidence that you lean forward, one hand finding the back of his neck so you can bring him to meet you halfway in a kiss. He smiles against your mouth, but the smile quickly falls the second you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Unfortunately, just as the tip of your tongue flicks against his bottom lip, you're interrupted.

"Can we come in now?" Reggie's voice rings out. "I really wanna give Y/N a hug after hearing that song."

"Reggie!" Julie scolds.

You and Luke pull apart laughing. You both straighten up and look towards the door just in time to see Reggie rubbing at the back of his head as he walks in with Alex and Julie behind him. Hand in hand, you and Luke stand up and chuckle at Reggie's put out expression.

Had you known that having a soulmate felt exactly as you feel right now, you would have known something was definitely up back home with Jerry. And though you will always hate your ex for tricking you the way he did, there's an ounce of gratefulness for the misery he put you through because had he not then you wouldn't have moved and met your true soulmate.

[kingfritzhater]

If they lived...

AOT headcanons of how different ships would live if they were still alive.

Manga Spoilers!!!

Eruri:

They move outside of Paradis, Erwin always wanted to know if there were humans outside the walls and now he wants to know how different their lives are from what he knows.

Once they settle down and Levi opens his teashop, Erwin offers to help but Levi won’t allow him as he thinks the tea he makes is horrendous, in the end, Erwin manages the money and Levi takes care of the rest. 

They still spend a lot of time with Gabi and Falco, Gabi always insists in moving Levi’s wheelchair (since Erwin is still missing an arm), and Falco adores listening to Erwin’s stories about the survey corps and life inside the walls.

Eremika:

They live hidden in Paradis, they built a little cottage in one of the giant tree forests outside of where the walls were and are very careful to stay hidden, Eren feels guilty that Mikasa has to live hiding like she was when her family was prosecuted by the government, but she doesn’t care, she still has him and their friends.

The remaining members of the alliance visit them pretty often, bringing them gifts from all around the world, Armin sends them books and pictures of the places they visit by mail every time he can. 

Many years go by, and Eren still can’t believe that this is his life, the day he notices some grey hairs and wrinkles in Mikasa’s face he starts crying from just the realisation of how happy he is to grow old together.

Levihan:

Hange is pretty sad when titans stop existing, so to make them happy Levi helps them get their hands on any scientific information that the outside world has developed, no matter how much it costs.

Hange switched their passion for titans to the works of the human body (and they almost fainted once they found out about germ theory), so Levi became their test subject for any time she wanted to test something that they read in some book.

Hange makes it their life purpose to find a way to make Levi be able to walk again, and after coming up with a pretty good prototipe some previous members of the military come asking for help for their missing limbs, so now they make prosthesis for free to anyone who needs it.

Nicosasha:

They open a restaurant in the countryside, Sasha plants a garden to get fruits and vegetables and hunts for the meat and Niccolo does the cooking.

When Niccolo decided to propose, he asked her father for his approval, what he did not expect was having to get the approval of Jean, Connie, Mikasa, Historia and Levi, the old captain was just as terrifying in a wheelchair as he was before.

They usually babysit Historia’s child since they live pretty close and they get along pretty well, the first name she learned how to say was hers, though it sounded more like “asha”, Sasha will always brag that she is the best aunt in the world.

Yumihisu/Yumikuri:

The baby still exists, but the farmer is just a way to keep Historia safe, yet Ymir still finds similarities between them and jokes about if Historia isn’t sure that she isn’t hers.

Ymir always remembers how she didn’t even have a name as a child, so now every achievement of their daughter is recorded, in fact, she asked Historia to get her a camera from the outside world to be more efficient in this task.

They both are the kind of parent that likes to show off their child to anyone who will listen, no matter how ashamed she gets.

Mobuhan:

They never settle down, both travel the world discovering new places and wonders, it started when Onyankopon invited them to his homeland and now they can’t stop, unintentionally they’ve done more for Paradis’s international relationships than anyone else just by making friends wherever they go.

Moblit proposes out of the blue, even taking Hange by surprise, they were visiting some place and Hange looked the happiest they’ve ever been and with the excuse of looking for something he left, Moblit ran to the nearest jewelry store and bought a ring, asking the question that night, Hange said yes in tears.

Their wedding is the biggest event Paradis has seen in recent years, even when the current military does not like them they can’t do anything without risking a major international conflict, specially with so many important figures present.

Reibert:

They move away from Libero, Bertholdt’s father had died, and Reiner’s mother being there hurt him too much, so they go back to Paradis, enjoying their lives away from the city.

As a way to silently pay back to the people of the island, and also due to Reiner’s love for children, they often volunteer in orphanages or help local schools and families, it does not take them long to adopt a boy and a girl.

Gabi and Falco visit them constantly, Gabi is the only way Reiner keeps contact with the rest of his family and she adores their children, Falco almost fainted when one of them called him uncle.

Jeanmarco:

Marco lost an eye in Trost, even then, they both join the survey corps as a way to honor their lost comrades, any time he sees Marco during a mission Jean worries that he won’t be as lucky this time, and that Marco might die that day.

They were horrified when he discovered how deep the corruption in the military police went, more Marco than Jean, so once Historia becomes the queen they offer all the advice they can give about reforms to the military.

Post rumbling, they both settle down in a nice house where once was wall Sina, now tired from the battle, the only missions they do are negotiations between Paradis and the rest of the world, they are the first to retire.

Kenuri:

Uri punches Kenny in the face when he discovered that he hid the fact that he had a nephew and abandoned him, it took a week of Kenny begging for Uri to talk to him again, now he adores Levi and finds it amusing how similar he is to Kenny.

They both love Historia and try to help her in any way they can with her labours as queen, Uri gives her advice and helps her to gain the trust of many important figures in Paradis and Kenny takes a more aggressive approach, threatening to kill anyone who questions her authority.

When Historia’s baby is born they go in full grandfather mode, once they met her they could not stop crying and at one point Uri had to try to take her away from Kennys arms, a pretty difficult task due to their height difference

Petruo/Auretra:

They've been together for years, but only told their families after the female titan arc, Petra’s father felt pretty embarrassed about his earlier conversation with Levi, but didn’t tell their comrades as they felt pretty shy about it.

After the battle of Shiganshina Auruo proposed to her in front of everyone, holding a ring that belonged to his mother and had been holding on to for months now, the only one that wasn’t surprised with this was Levi.

Petra asked Levi to make a small speech at their wedding, which he surprisingly agreed to do, when he did he talked about how he knew Auruo liked Petra from the moment he saw them and how jealous he would get, and would intentionally assign them to the same tasks together by themselves so one of them finally dared to confess, by the time he returned to his table, both of their faces were completely red.

Mikenana:

While Mike managed to hide from the best titan and come out unscarred, Nanaba was not so lucky, losing one of her legs at Utgard Castle and having to retire from the military.

During the uprising arc, Mike joined the new Levi squad and went into hiding, Nanaba became essential to collecting information behind the scenes, as she could easily go under the radar, so she stayed with Hange and Moblit.

When Mike returned from the battle of Shiganshina, Nanaba ran to him in her crutches and jumped into his arms as soon as she was close enough, and didn’t let go until she could convince herself that he really survived.

Hilow/Hitchmaru:

Seeing as her efforts to convince him to not join the survey corps were failing, Hitch just directly confessed her feelings to him as a last effort to save him, Marlowe told her he felt the same way, but he knew his destiny was with the scouts.

Both Marlowe and Floch survived the battle of Shiganshina, when Floch starts talking very sharply to the families of the deceased Marlowe shuts him up, when Hitch asks him why he is so determined to stop him he says “Imagine if I died and he said those things to you”.

Marlowe is captured by the jaegerists and couldn’t join the alliance, once Hitch manages to free him he expresses his frustration with not being able to go to battle, yet he is still happy that he does not have to leave Hitch one more time.

[thefanficmonster]

will you do an oompaville x reader.? like maybe one where you’re at a wedding with him and he asks you to dance.?

Omg an oompaville request!!! I'm so grateful dear! Thank you so much for your lovely request, please enjoy the one-shot 🥰

Perfect Sync

Pairing: Oompaville (Caleb) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: None

Genre: FLUFF, RPF (Real Person Fic)

There are certain pros and cons to being so distanced from your extended family. And I mean DISTANCED, in all capitals. I actually live in a completely different state on the completely opposite side of the US and yet I still somehow got an invitation to my cousin's wedding. To be fair, it's not that surprising, seeing as how she's the only cousin I have comprehendible memories with from my childhood. She's a really sweet girl - no, woman - and it kinda sucks that we haven't had the chance to catch up in so long.

Among the many other cons is the fact that I don't know a single person at this wedding. Not. A. Single. Person. Sure, there have been several elderly and middle aged couples who've approached me, claiming they know me and given me a huge hug, asking me how my parents were doing. Speaking of my parents, they are a pair of sneaks who avoided coming to the wedding themselves saying they were stuck with a stomach virus while they're actually vacationing in Canada. How wonderful of them, don't you think?

They are chilling in Canada and I'm over here boiling and sweating over my third, possibly forth glass of champagne of the evening, not to mention the wedding hasn't even properly started yet. Count on me switching to whiskey when it does.

Sitting at the table I was pointed to upon arrival, I let my gaze skim over the immense garden decorated with beautiful flowers, fairy lights and handmade décor pieces. Each table and bar is under a white tent, just like the one I’m currently sitting under. It’s a beautiful sight and I can only imagine it’s only gonna get even prettier when the sun finally sets completely and all these fairy lights come on. That’s one of the few good things about my attendance at this event today. The ‘good’ things have been so little in number I can probably count them on the fingers of one hand: 1.I briefly saw and chatted with my cousin who was practically trembling out of excitement, anxiety and happiness. Good for her; 2. I’ve downed so many drinks that would probably cost me a fortune at a club or bar and I’m decently buzzed. Very cool; 3. I made friends with one of the bridesmaids because I had time to kill - turns out she wanted to be at this wedding as much as me: not at all; 4. I caught a whiff of the dinner which was still being cooked and damn am I excited about it; 5. The garden is absolutely breathtaking and it’s a sight worth sticking around for. See, as I said, few enough good things to be able to count them on the fingers of one hand.

And what about that cute guy from earlier?, my subconsciousness nudges me teasingly, causing me to almost evidently roll my eyes.

The hot guy being referred to right now is the one I damn near ran over when I was pulling up to this fancy estate. In my defense, I’m still getting used to the rental car I got when I landed in Texas two days ago, and plus he came out of literally nowhere. Luckily, he wasn’t mean or upset about it, took it quite lightly which was relieving and surprising. 

Not gonna lie though, he was really cute.

I see the people all over the garden hurriedly take a seat when it gets announced that the newly weds are about to have their first dance. I cross my legs, finishing the champagne in one go before I can focus my attention on the lovely couple that’s just stepped out of the mansion-like house and onto the soft grass of the lawn, slowly making their way towards the center where they’re supposed to have the dance - aka where everyone will be dancing afterwards too.

Everyone but me, I’ll be busy chilling by the bar, hopefully in the company of that bridesmaid who I can crack jokes with without feeling guilty.

The two dance in perfect sync, their movements almost mesmerizing to the human eye. I’m no professional dancer but I don’t have two left feet either, yet I’m still amazed by this perfection before me. I bet all the cash I took with me from New York - which is a lot, I expected to spend a lot - that they’ve practiced this more than once. Or at least I hope they have as to make me feel better about my own skills - or the lack thereof.

“I take it you’re a lot less dangerous when you’re not behind the wheel.“ A quiet comment emerges next to my ear, loud enough for me to hear but hushed as to not disturb the couple nor the mob of people watching them in awe.

My eyebrows shoot up. I’ve maybe heard that voice only once before but that teasing tone made me blush like mad earlier and that’s hard to forget. I have a hard time forgetting embarrassment.

Biting my lip, I slowly turn to face him, “I can’t guarantee, there are plenty of sharp objects around after all.“

There’s that same wide smile I saw earlier when my entire life flashed before my eyes. His probably did too but unlike me, he didn’t show it. “Some luck I have sitting next to you then.“ He chuckles, handing me a glass of whiskey. I take it hesitantly, giving him a suspiciously raised eyebrow. “You look like you could use one.“ He shrugs, taking a sip of his own. When my expression doesn’t change and I don’t make a move to ingest the beverage, he rolls his eyes, “Yeah I’m someone you’re seeing for the second time in your life, and yeah you might think I could want revenge for my nearly damaged health, but I don’t. And if you don’t want the whiskey...” he reaches to take it back but I quickly put it up to my lips and take a long sip, causing him to smile. “There you go!”

Oh boy does the taste of whiskey hit different after sipping on champagne for hours. I nod to him in gratitude. “Thanks, I strongly appreciate this.”

He nods back, his smile now a smaller one but still preserving the same amount of joy as when it was a full-blown grin, “I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Y/N, nice to meet you.“ I reply, feeling the tension in my shoulders easing and the embarrassed blush fading. This guy just has such a chill aura, it’s nice being in his company. Hell, I’ll even go as far as to say if I simply had to almost hit someone with my car today, I’m glad it was him.

As more and more people emerge from their seats, heading hand in hand to the dancefloor to join the newlyweds, I finish my whiskey and am contemplating on going to get myself another but before I can decide, Caleb arises from his seat as well. He takes a stand in front of me, offering me his hand, “Well, there’s very little damage you can do you me out on the dancefloor, right?” He chuckles when he sees he’s made me blush again - third time today, damn it - but then he assumes a more serious facial expression, his smile never faltering though, “Care to accompany me for a dance, Y/N?”

I pretend to think the offer over, weighing my options and its pros and cons when in reality I dam near accepted the same second he asked. “Hmm, ok...“ I say finally, resting my hand in his, “That is, if you promise not to step on my feet. These are some expensive shoes I’m wearing.“

He lets out a genuine laugh as he leads us to the dancefloor, one that I’ll admit is hella contagious, “Says the person who almost ran my ass over earlier. Am I not expensive, huh?”

I give him a confused look, hiding fits of laughter, “I don’t know, Caleb. Are you?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, best offer you’d get for me on Craigslist is like, a dollar? Two if you’re lucky.”

And that’s all it takes to break the dam holding back my laughter, sending me in fits of giggles as we start dancing. My laughter ends just as quickly as it starts though when I realize how in-sync our dancing is. Perfectly synchronized. 

Huh, wonder why, that annoying voice pokes at my peace again. But I don’t let it get to me. Not now at least. I’m just gonna enjoy this moment, dancing with a practical stranger, gazing into his warm and welcoming eyes.

Suddenly I need another hand to count the good things about this wedding since I have to add three new points: 6. Almost hitting Caleb with my car; 7. Officially meeting Caleb; 8. Dancing with him.

Dancing with him in perfect sync

Oh, shut it, I don’t wanna start blushing again.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N:  FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write. 

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. 

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn. 

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger. 

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago. 

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her. 

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again. 

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there. 

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light. 

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved. 

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive. 

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff. 

Your wife. 

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end. 

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her. 

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been. 

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world. 

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.” 

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her. 

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses. 

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire. 

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed. 

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you. 

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you. 

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was. 

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly. 

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.” 

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them. 

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally. 

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year. 

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all. 

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright. 

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye. 

the Shield. 

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral. 

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time. 

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was. 

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran. 

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company. 

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men. 

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm. 

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you. 

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down. 

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed. 

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours. 

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.” 

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass. 

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves. 

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded. 

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened. 

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked. 

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand. 

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished. 

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them. 

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.” 

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now. 

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!” 

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while. 

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass. 

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke. 

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell. 

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave. 

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam. 

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you. 

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids. 

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly. 

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand. 

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight. 

“Yeah?” Sam replies. 

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying. 

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway. 

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow. 

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it. 

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule. 

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda. 

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still. 

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking. 

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.” 

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit. 

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss. 

---

---

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck. 

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’ 

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.” 

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.” 

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.” 

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-” 

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.” 

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped. 

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED  - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1) 

- ON MY WAY_CSGR

[firstdegreefangirl]

“After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?” i would love this prompt for Chenford!

Love your writing!!!

Anon, you KILLED me with this one. I had no idea what I wanted to do with it, then a tiny inkling of an idea, then I wrote close to 1600 words in one sitting. Even though I try to keep prompt fills under or around 1k, it is what it is, and I like this so much that I’m not going to make myself pare it down. So thanks for the ask, and enjoy!

Oh, and spoilers for 3.09, if you haven’t at least seen the Facebook promo that got me to watch the full clip even though I still haven’t seen the whole episode. I’m working on it, I swear.

---

“Look me in the face and tell me you don’t think I have the killer instinct to do undercover work.”

It had taken longer than Tim cared to admit before he could school his features enough to meet Lucy’s eyeline and sneer at her. Even then, it had only lasted a second before he couldn’t stand to look at her any longer.  

An entire year they’ve spent together, Tim testing his rookie at every step of the way.

Not once had he imagined that she’d have the audacity to test him back. And today, of all days.  

And like this.  

He’s got to ignore it. He has to make it at least through the end of the shift without constantly thinking about how she’d laughed mere moments after saying she had feelings for him.

It’s not weird. He’d been honest when he told her that.  

And I appreciate your honesty.

It’s not weird. It’s so much worse.

Because for the rest of the shift, every time he catches sight of Lucy, Tim’s stomach starts to churn. Every time he hears her voice, his heart beats double-time in his chest. Every time the light fragrance of her perfume wafts across the shop into his nose, he wants to go buy a dozen of those stupid cardboard trees and duct tape them to every air vent.  

Because every time he so much as thinks about Lucy, he thinks about what he’d almost said to her, before she’s started laughing at him.  

And he still has to turn in her final evaluation, so he’s thinking about her a lot.

He’s thinking about the last year of their lives, all the ways she’s grown into her career, all the ways she’s grown on him.

And he’s thinking about how for just a second, the barest breath of an instant, the world had stopped turning around him this morning.

I have feelings for you.  

He hadn’t known what to say to that, how to respond without losing one or both of their jobs. And then she had suggested that he might have feelings for her too, had come way too close to the only card in his hand Tim had known he could never show.  

Had he been showing it this whole time?

But she’d started laughing, and the whole thing had been a ruse. Lucy had been fucking with him, and it had worked, and now he can’t shake the way the nausea burns in his stomach. He hardly eats his lunch, even though they both know how much he loves the food truck, blames it on a big breakfast and anxiety about the AMBER Alert.

And somehow, by nothing short of a miracle, he survives the shift. Baby Young is reunited with her parents, Lucy gets promoted to P2, and Tim handles it all without passing out, throwing up, or punching any walls.  

All in all, it’s a good day.

But it’s over before he knows it. Before he’s ready, he’s standing in the parking garage, holding a box and sporting a face full of white powder.  

She got him again, and he can’t even bring himself to be upset about it.  

“It’s been a blast, sir,” she says, laughing again. He loves the sound, even though it feels like a knife in his gut as he thinks again about earlier.

“It has,” he says, then surprises himself. “I can … buy you a drink? Now that you’re not a rookie anymore, there are some things we need to talk about.”

He tries to make it sound like he’s getting ready to give her more career advice, the kinds of firsthand accounts that aren’t relevant until she’s cleared the academy. And he’s got those too, decades of stories about truly helping people who need it and rules bent for the right reasons.  

But that’s not what he’s going to say, and he knows it. He feels it deep in his gut as he leads the way across town, sitting right next to the lingering panic from the morning as he watches Lucy’s headlights behind him.

Then they’re sitting across from each other, crammed into a tiny booth, knees knocking together under the table, no matter how many times they try to rearrange themselves. He waves a bartender over, asks for a pitcher of whatever domestic is on tap, and two glasses.  

Neither of them say anything until the drinks arrive, until they’ve each downed half a beer. But Tim knows it won’t last, so for once today, he’s not surprised when Lucy breaks the silence.

“We need to talk?” There’s hesitation in her voice, and for a moment, Tim feels a little bad. He wonders what she thinks he’s about to say, even though he knows she won’t be right.

“What you said earlier … in the shop, you know …" He’s stammering again, stumbling where he's usually brash and a little overconfident, and he hates how easy it is for Lucy to throw him off his game. She doesn’t even have to try, and she’s changing the very fundamentals of his personality. But she nods, so he soldiers on. “I don’t think you were being honest with me. Um, dishonest. Ah, at the … at first. Before you …"

Before you took away everything I’ve known the last 12 months.

“So I … wasn’t lying?” Lucy furrows her brow, trying to untangle everything Tim’s said.

“No, you were.” Tim takes a long drink, but his mouth is still dry. “When you tried to convince me that it was just a show of your undercover skills. I don’t think it was. I …" Here goes everything, Bradford. “I hope it wasn’t.”

“You — I — What?” It’s Lucy’s turn to be speechless now, and Tim can see the way her fingers tighten around her glass. “You — you hope?”

“You deserve my honesty,” Tim says simply, mirroring her words from earlier, just before she’d pulled the rug out from under him. He leans forward. “Lucy, when you said … I didn’t get a chance to respond before you switched gears. Not honestly. And the truth is … you were right. When you said I’m protective of you because I have feelings for you.”

Her eyes narrow.

“This isn’t some Revenge Tim Test, is it?”

“No, it’s not.” Tim holds his hands out on the table, palms up, a physical representation of how open he’s trying to be. “I don’t know when it started, or really even when I noticed. But you’re right, we’ve been through a lot this year, both of us. A lot of it together, but all of it as partners. And somewhere along the way, it became more than I’d bargained for.  

“In a good way,” he hurries to add. “I like it. You. I like — I like you. A lot.” Dammit, he’s stammering again. “And I think you were honest when you said you had feelings for me.” Lucy nods slowly, but makes no effort to speak, and he can’t read anything definite in the gesture. “You’re right, you’re not my rookie anymore. It might be complicated, but in my experience, the best things usually are. And I think that if there’s something here, between us … it’s worth pursuing.”  

Tim lets the rest of the air out of his lungs, drains his glass in one swallow and pours himself a refill. Lucy still hasn’t said anything, but he’s determined to let her say her piece, even if she needs a second to process everything. The longer she’s silent, the more worry builds up in his chest, but he knows he’s done the right thing. She deserves his honesty; he’d meant that when he said it.  

“Tim …" Lucy starts, then trails off. “You really thought I —” She laughs, but there’s nothing funny about it. “I really should go out for undercover work. After everything we’ve been through, you still don’t know that I love you?”  

“I know that I want you to.” It’s somehow more honest than anything else he’s said tonight, putting it all on the line. Tim sets his hand on the table again, and there are no words to express the way his chest swells when Lucy reaches forward tentatively to tuck her fingers between his. “I know that I’m crazy about you, and that maybe if we’re on the same page about that, some of this year will have been worth it.”

“Only some?” Lucy smiles, and he’s pretty sure she’s trying to flirt with him. Now that he’s letting himself look for those signals, they’re clear as day in front of him.

“Yeah, well, you really shouldn’t have had to get kidnapped for us to work this out.”  

“Fair,” She laughs, and for the first time all day, the sound doesn’t turn to molten lead in his stomach. Now he feels warm, comfortable with everything that’s hanging between them. “But however we got here, I’m just glad we made it.”

Lucy leans forward, eye flicking down to look at his mouth, and yeah, he’s picking up the signals. He squeezes her fingers, half-stands in the booth, just far enough to close the space between them and brush their lips together.

It’s a fleeting moment, the angle all wrong and Tim’s back already starting to ache from the strain. None of that matters when he sits back down, though, because he knows there are many more moments to come, just like this and even better.

“Me too, Lucy.”

[sequinsmile-x]

From The Heart

They had been on the brink of something, something they both thought could have been extraordinary, before the skeletons came out of her closet and tore it all apart.

Chapter 1 

Words: 3.4k

Warnings: Mature, some smut

Read on A03 via this link, or under the cut

The apartment was small and nondescript. Tucked away down a Parisian street most people wouldn’t look twice at. It had never felt like home to her. Still unfamiliar to her seven months down the line as she frantically packs a small bag, JJ’s words echoing around her head. She packs just the basics, hoping beyond anything that this is it. That she is going home for good. She doesn’t think much of it as she leaves the apartment for the final time, knowing that even if they fail, if they can’t stop Ian and she has to go back into hiding, she won’t be coming back here. She pushes the keys back through the letterbox and takes a deep breath as she walks away, shedding her anonymity as she goes.

Emily Prentiss was coming back from the dead. _____________

As soon as she lands in the US she feels anxious. The fear she had felt in the lead up to her showdown with Ian scratching back up her spine. The tightness in her chest that had never gone away tightening around her heart, making it feel like it was in a vice. Her lungs cramped, her chest feeling like it was too full of fear for her to take in a deep breath. It felt like everyone was watching her, like they all knew who she was. Like they knew what she had done.

The driver whose job it is to take her to Quantico asks her if she is ok. He meets her with a fake name written on some card, the same name that had been on the passport she had travelled with. Emily nods and says she is fine, lets him take her small suitcase and smiles when he jokes that she is travelling light. She’s distracted, her mind on seeing the team. She wants to see them desperately, see the people she considered her family before her life fell to pieces around her.

She thinks of Aaron and it makes her ache. The memory of how close they came to being something had haunted her for so long. They had gone on exactly two dates before Ian Doyle tore through everything, leaving her life, and the lives of those she loved, in tatters.

Their first date was an accident. The rest of the team had gone to their rooms leaving them alone, and Emily suggested they went for dinner, neither of them tired enough to sleep yet. They found a diner not too far from their hotel and settled there, both ordering an almost absurd amount of food they could never finish, as if they wanted an excuse to stay for longer than necessary. Their conversation flowed easily as they ate, the waitress pouring them more coffee as the night went on, her wry smile at their slightly shy behaviour obvious to them both.

The feelings for him she had always pushed down simmered a little too close to the surface. They talked about Jack and Sergio mixed in with stories from their childhoods, and they seemed to realise at the same time how much they were enjoying themselves. The thing that had always remained unsaid between them shining bright, both of them wanting it to ignite.

Aaron kissed her cheek at her hotel room door. As he pulled away she grabbed his chin, stopped him from going any further as she pressed her lips briefly to his just so she knew what it felt like. Something in her had shifted in that moment, the feel of his lips, softer than she’d imagined, making her feel something that felt absurd given how quick it had been. She dreamt about him that night.

He must have felt it too, because their second date wasn’t an accident. He’d called her, his voice uncharacteristically nervous as he asked her to dinner again. He didn’t take her to a fancy restaurant, well aware of her distaste of small plates and overly expensive food, but to a place he liked to take Jack to. The wait staff knew him, and asked him about his son, and Emily remembered the warmth that had spread through her body at the idea that he would take her somewhere that was usually just for him and Jack.

That night she learnt she could fluster Aaron. The usually stoic unit chief stumbled over his words as she placed her hand a little too high on his thigh, his eyes drawn to her lips most of the evening as she told him things he didn’t know about her.

He had insisted on walking her to her apartment, despite it being in the opposite direction to his own home, and he kissed her. Properly this time, leaving her breathless against her apartment door with the promise of a third date.

Then Sean Macallister called, and nothing was the same, and Emily had been left wishing she had insisted he come up to her apartment that night. That she’d had one night with him, something she could have clung onto in the months that followed.

She had pulled away immediately. Suddenly rebuffing any attempts he made to get her alone, to talk to her about whatever was going on. Emily knew if anyone was able to pull it from her, to make her admit to her demons that were now chasing them all, it would have been him.

Aaron had told her once, just before she had walked away from the team, that it was ok if she had changed her mind. If there was something about him that she didn’t want that he would let it slight, and he wouldn’t let it affect their friendship.

It almost broke her. The promise that it wasn’t him on the tip of her tongue before she swallowed it back. His safety was more important to her than anything else. Even how he felt about her.

Emily had a vague memory of Aaron visiting her in Bethesda. The feel of his hand in hers, his lips pressed against her forehead. Whispered promises against her skin that he would bring her home, that Ian would pay for what he had done to her. That he would take her on that third date. _____________________

The thought of the promised third date had kept her going in Paris. The notion that after everything, all that he had learned about her and what she had done, he had still wanted her. Emily had thought about all of the team often in the long lonely days of her isolation from the world, but none of them more than him. She wondered how he was doing. Knowing that the burden of making the decision to fake her death would weigh heavily on him.

She wondered what he had told Jack, his sweet little boy, who she loved more than she thought she should. Emily had many sleepless nights wondering if Jack thought she was dead too.

When sleep found her she dreamt of Aaron often. Something that she once thought was when turning into an if only as the months dragged on.

When she sees him for the first time she realises her dreams hadn’t done him justice. _____________________

Emily puts all of her own thoughts aside as soon as she enters the conference room. She bears the feelings of the team, takes in their shock and their emotions and holds it in her chest. She feels like she deserves it. Derek’s words as she lay dying on the floor of a warehouse had run on a loop in her head for months. Penelope’s voicemail was a curse as she tried and failed to find sleep.

Aaron’s visit to her in the hospital was vague to her. A memory she wasn’t always sure was real. She stays to talk to him, her bravery now Ian was dead taking her by surprise.

As soon as she’s standing opposite Aaron in his office, the Senate Committee done and behind them, she feels unsure. She wonders if too much time has passed, if too many things have happened. If her harsh words towards him in the wake of Ian’s return, her fear pushing him away rather than letting her pull him closer like she truly wanted, had damaged the tentative start to a relationship that they could have had.

Aaron grabs her hand, his thumb running over her wrist. “Do you want to get out of here?” He clears his throat. “Go to mine and talk?”

Emily smiles at him and nods, grateful that this might be the one thing Ian Doyle hadn’t taken from her. _____________________

Aaron looks at her in a way she isn’t sure she deserves. Like she's made of something precious. He guides her into his apartment with his hand on her lower back. Emily can feel the heat of his skin through her shirt and it makes her close her eyes and take in a deep breath.

“Do you want a drink?” He asks, his voice soft as if he worries she will bolt at any second.

Emily smiles at him as he puts down his briefcase, she watches as he neatly puts his keys on the hook by the door and sets the alarm. A routine that she is glad to be privy to.

“Yeah, that would be nice.” She grasps her hand in front of herself, trying to stop herself from digging at the skin around her thumbnails.

He brings them both over a glass of wine each and encourages her to sit on the couch. She takes in how tidy the apartment is, how it looks like no one has lived in it in weeks.

“Where’s Jack?” She asks, not missing how he stiffens slightly.

“He’s away with Jessica and her parents.” He answers, taking a sip of his wine before setting his glass down. “I had to come back so quickly there wasn’t time for them to change their plans.”

It hurts, a burning in her chest that tells her she had caused this. That she had driven him away from his son, from his home to a country on the other side of the world. She wants to ask there and then what Jack knows, if he thinks she is dead, but she doesn’t think she can bear it yet.

“I’m sorry, Aaron.” She says, her smile trembling as she looks at him. “I messed everything up.”

“You could have come to me, Emily.” Aaron replies, his eyes as hard as she’d seen them since she walked into the conference room. “I would have helped.”

“He would have killed you.” She answers, as sure now as she was then. Time had done nothing to change her mind about her decision making. “He would have killed all of you.”

“Em-”

“Clyde said you threatened him.” She interrupts, changing the subject. She didn’t want to hear whatever he had to say, the self sacrificing tendencies she knew would have cost him his life. “He wasn’t impressed.” She smiles at him, and it doesn’t quite reach her eyes but he returns it.

“Well.” Aaron says, averting his gaze from hers. “I meant it.” He clears his throat and places his glass of wine down on the coffee table. “I would have done anything to keep you safe.”

“I know you would have.” She replies, placing her own wine glass down. She leans forward and hugs him before she can think better of it, her body relaxing as he wraps his arms around her. “I am sorry.”

“I know you are.” Aaron says, turning his head to press a kiss to her cheek. It reminds her of that first date, back when everything was simple and Ian Doyle was a name she’d thought she would never have to say out loud again. A secret she could have taken to her grave.

Emily pulls back and looks at him, cupping his cheek before she can stop herself. Emily kisses him, the desperate need to know if it was like she’d remembered, if it was like she’d dreamt about all those months she was away. It was somehow better.

She feels his hand drift under her shirt, having somehow untucked it from her skirt. His skin scalds hers, his palm spanning almost her entire back. She pulls back from him and runs her thumb over his bottom lip. She avoids eye contact with him, whispering the fear that had put her heart in a vice since the moment his apartment door closed behind them. “I don’t know if I can be what you want me to be.”

It’s the most honest thing she has said to him, her fear that he wants more than she can give briefly overrides her desire. Aaron hooks a finger under her chin and tilts her head to make her look at him.

“I’ll take whatever you can give.”

She stares at him, seeing all of her options laid out in front of her. She could walk away now and she knows he wouldn’t hold it against her, that on some level he understands that this is as bad of an idea as she does.

Emily doesn’t want to walk away . She wants this, she wants him. More than she thinks she has ever wanted anything. She lets herself have it, have him. Needing to prove to herself that Ian didn’t steal everything like she had told herself he had on cold lonely nights in Paris. That, despite it all, she still had Aaron.

She doesn’t say anything else. Her answer is to kiss him fiercely, licking the inside of his mouth before he can question her, before he can be the voice of reason in this. He responds in kind, his hands squeezing tightly against her skin in a way she knows will leave marks in the morning.

Emily pushes his jacket off of his shoulders, and it lands on his couch behind him, discarded for him to find creased in the morning. He pulls her closer, hands wandering over clothes and bare skin. Her skirt rises up and allows her to throw a leg over his lap, both of them moaning as she sits on him.

Aaron suddenly pulls back from her, his hands cupping her cheeks to hold her in place when she desperately tries to kiss him again, not wanting her brain to have the chance to kick in.

“Emily.” He says, desperation in his tone she doesn’t recognise. He rests his forehead against hers, his eyes closed as he tries to be the rational one. “Are you sure?”

She licks her lips, heaves in a breath.

“Yes.” She kisses him gently, the softest one they have exchanged since she kissed him for the first time outside her hotel room close to a year ago. “I’m sure.”

He stares at her, as if he is trying to figure out if this is the right thing for them. She doesn’t give him the chance to apply logic to it. She surges forward and kisses him again, her hands around the back of his neck, holding him to her. He breaks away from her long enough to encourage her to stand. He gets them to his bedroom, his tie goes missing along the way when he stops them to push her against the wall, his mouth against her neck and the top of her collarbone as she undoes the top few buttons of his shirt.

Emily tenses when he goes to lift her shirt, the reality of what he was about to see breaking through. The first person except for her and her doctors to see the scars she was only just used to. Aaron senses her hesitation, rests his forehead against hers.

“Em.” He breathes out, his hand against the bare skin of her back. “It’s ok.” He kisses her, the tenderness behind it enough to make her want to cry. “You’re beautiful.” He kisses her again. “You always have been. You always will be.”

He presses his lips to her neck and she’s lost, the feeling of what he was doing to her body outweighing any feelings of self doubt. He removes his shirt first, gently undoing the buttons she hadn’t and revealing the silver scars across his skin. Emily can’t help herself as she trails her fingers over them, her lips against the one at the top of his chest.

He shivers, and she knows she is the first to have seen him like this. That she is the first person who has seen the scars left behind by the man who tried to take everything from him. She had seen them once before, when he was still unconscious in the hospital, his vitals dipping as the doctors tried to save his life. She hadn’t understood the growing feelings she’d had for him then. Or she had at least ignored them, resolute to stuff them back into the box that they had escaped from.

Aaron pauses, his hands gripping her a little tighter. He opens his mouth to speak, to provide some explanation that she already knows about what she has seen. She raises her hand to his mouth, pressing her fingers to his lips.

“It’s ok.” She says, smiling as she repeats his own words back at him. “All I see is you, not him.”

He smiles at her, kissing her fiercely, only breaking their connection to lift her shirt from her head. Emily sucks in a breath as his finger traces the scar over her breast, the smell of her burning flesh lingering at the edge of her senses as she remembers how Ian had marked her, how the surgeons had only been able to do so much. Aaron kisses her skin, his lips trialing a path down her body until he is dropping to his knees. Pressing affection into the constellation on her abdomen, the skin still pink from where it had healed. There were times when she could still feel the table leg through her, the sharp pain followed by numbness she had felt in that warehouse in Boston.

Now all she felt was Aaron. All she could hear were the words of praise he said against her skin, and something far too close to love settles over her. She pushes it back, not wanting to feel it, and she pulls him upwards, tugging at him until he follows and is towering over her again.

The gentleness ends there. She ends up on the bed, her back pressed against his quilt and her legs spreading for him to settle in. He takes her apart, twice, with his fingers and tongue before he enters her, their fingers linked on the mattress next to her. He presses his forehead to hers as they both come apart together, something that they had both wanted for longer than they would admit culminating in one moment.

It takes them a while for their breathing to even out, for him to shift to lay next to her, pulling her half on top of him as he pulls the quilt over them as their bodies cool.

Emily isn’t sure what to say. She traces her finger over the mark she had sucked onto his chest, and feels him doing the same across her collarbone.

“We should have done that a long time ago.” She says, the tightness in her chest easing when she feels him laugh.

He presses a kiss to the top of her head, and she feels any remaining tension in her melt away as his hand skates up her ribs, pulling her closer to him.

“We should do that again.” He says, tilting her head to kiss her properly. “Although you might have to give me 20 minutes.”

Emily cups his cheek, her thumb running over his jaw line. “I really missed you.”

“I missed you too, Em.”

Aaron drifts to sleep below her, his breathing evening out under her cheek. As the fingers he had been running up and down her spine slow to a stop Emily thinks he might be the only person who truly understood her.

She hopes it’s enough.

[ladywaifuuwrites]

Why do you hate me?

Pairings: Giyuu Tomioka x fem! Reader

Synopsis: Ever since you met Giyuu you hated him. Well, not hate...you just don’t like him to a higher extent and you don’t know why. But Giyuu likes you and wants to ask you: “Why do you hate me?”.

Warnings: angst | swearing | a bit fluff | past life! au

a/n: I’ve been obsessed lately with past life regression and past life things and I just absolutely love history. So this is me letting my imagination run wild. And I love Giyuu. He’s my main man ❣️

Pls. give this a chance huhuness

word count: 1,635

Flashbacks are italicized  

part 1 part 2

Party lights, red solo cups, booze and streams of laughter are present in the air. (Y/N) is thoroughly enjoying the party. After all, she just lied to her parents about going to a birthday party. But it’s actually a birthday party, a wild birthday party.

“HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY TENGEN”

Everybody shouts at the top of their lungs and goes “WOOOOOOOOH”. Tengen is now covered in confetti, booze, and girls. The drunk ladies latched themselves on him and he kissed their heads one by one.

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you, everyone! Let’s get this party started!!!!” And everyone goes crazy and jumps out on the large pool outside.

You smile at their enthusiasm and shook your head to yourself, feeling good and happy about this event. Shinobu rolled her eyes and just went for the kitchen while Mitsuri is snacking on the food at the table, quietly. 

A scream left Shinobu’s lips as Tengen picked her up and proceeded to walk to your way. Mitsuri dropped her food while you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion on what is happening. 

“Oh no” Mitsuri mumbled before running away but Tengen caught her and placed her on his shoulder alongside Shinobu.

“NOOOOOOOOO. Please let me go!” Mitsuri cried out as she kept on hitting Tengen’s back.

“How about you (Y/N)? Are you gonna disobey the flamboyant birthday boy’s wishes?” 

“If you’re gonna do that to me, then no. What do you want?” You asked crossing your arms and turned on your sassy mode. 

“For the good girls club to have some fun! Why are you guys holding back? There’s so much fun this flamboyant party has to offer!” Tengen exclaimed.

“Please let me go.” Shinobu said with a smile on her face but she is really annoyed.

Before Tengen could say anything, a voice interrupted him.

“Hey! Let my friends go!” Makomo ran towards Tengen and pulled on Shinobu and Mitsuri’s arm but Tengen was far too tall so he lifted the girls up.

“Not until you grow some height!” Tengen clapped back which made Makomo extra angry. Sabito laughed loudly and kept wheezing about the joke.

“That’s a good one Tengen!” 

“Ye- Oh! Hey! Giyuu! My man!” The tall man threw the girls on his shoulders onto the pool causing screams to fill the air. 

You laugh at their situation but you are suddenly pushed onto the water. It was just like slow motion when you fell. Underneath the water, you move your legs so that you resurface but you seem to be having a hard time. Your legs feel tired and numb. Oh my gosh, is this how I’m going to die? Who the fuck killed me?

A huge splash can be heard as bubbles formed in the water and made way for someone’s body. Mesmerizing blue eyes met yours and you could feel as if you’re running out of breath. Are you running out of breath because of the water? Or because of those blue eyes?

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as you float back to the surface. You gasped for breath and put your hands to your face to whisk away the water on your face.

Makomo held her hand for you and you accepted it to get out of the pool. Shinobu put a towel around your body as Mitsuri put a towel around your head.

“What the fuck? Did you guys forget that I can’t swim?” You scream at them angrily as tears welled up in your eyes. The boys couldn’t look at you and the girls looked at you sadly.

“Giyuu pushed you” You turned your head to the voice and found Sanemi standing beside Obanai. Who the hell is Giyuu?

“I’m sorry. Sanemi bumped into me and I accidentally pushed you from the impact, I’m sorry.” A deep attractive voice perked your ears and led you looking at a man beside the pool with his head hung low. Water dripped from the man’s dark hair to his blue shirt and to his black sweatpants. He was basically covered in water and he looked hot. 

He’s the one who saved you. It was the same blue eyes that met yours underwater. But your heart swelled with anger and angry tears filled your eyes, disregarding the fact that he saved you. But he was also the one who almost killed you!

You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him, because the way his head hung low as if utterly begging for forgiveness hurt your heart. Tears fell down your cheeks as you keep looking at him. It was like someone kept on stabbing your heart.

“(Y/N)” Makomo said softly and guided you out of the scene. Shinobu and Mitsuri followed on as everyone fell quiet.

————————————

You didn’t go to parties anymore. You didn’t want to see that guy again. Giyuu Tomioka. 

Life was boring without your friend’s killer parties. The girls offered to stay behind with you but you shooed them because you knew they wanted to go. But of course, they felt bad that they left you alone. So they ordered food and drinks for you, making you surprised since Mitsuri didn’t try to eat them.

And now you’re alone. Watching boring movies since you almost watched everything on Netflix. 

You can’t take it anymore. You need to get out. So you put on decent clothes and headed to the bar and café for music and relaxation.

It was another chill night at the place you went to. The band is singing slow soft songs about the betrayals of love and you feel like crying. 

You wipe your tears before they truly cascade down. Then suddenly two glasses of beer thump down at your table. You look at whoever placed it there and the sight widened your eyes.

What is he doing here? Giyuu sat down on the chair opposite to yours and slid the other glass of beer to your direction. Instead of being nice and saying thank you, you spat at him. “Who said you can sit there?” 

He froze. Sadness passed in his eyes before blinking and returning to his normal gaze. You raised an eyebrow and he cleared his throat. 

“I’m sorry, I’ll find another seat.” Giyuu said and took away his beer, leaving the other one behind. You look back to see him walking around to find an unoccupied space. He was about to take a seat when a group of friends clashed with him and they exchanged words for a while. He ended up giving up his seat.

You sighed at what you saw. Your heart clenched in hurt because he looked so pitiful finding a seat. Now, he’s just awkwardly leaning on a wall, drinking his beer a few inches from a couple making out. 

You raised your hand and waved them at Giyuu’s direction. He took a double-take at you waving your hand at him, motioning for him to come to you. And he did, looking like a lost puppy.

He sat back down and you two drank the night away awkwardly.  

————————————

It’s 7am on a Sunday morning with you just staring at the wall in your bedroom. You dreamed again about snow, demons, and a half-and-half haori. It’s all just the same thing over and over again.

Your mind takes you back when Giyuu offered to take you home. You said it’s alright but he insisted and you have no choice but to let him. 

And the elevator scenario. Oh my gosh, the elevator scenario. Your face heats up as you cry into your pillow. 

You live apart from your parents but they still ask you where you go, who is in your apartment and who are you bringing to your apartment. They just called in earlier and asked who you were with. Of course, you didn’t say who it was. You just said you’re with friends and ended the conversation.

And now the elevator is taking too damn slow to go up. You turn to Giyuu to find him asleep, and he leaned on your shoulder. You immediately got away from him as if he has an infectious disease and the poor guy is snapped back to reality. He looks around groggily and lands his sight on you which causes him to widen his eyes. 

“I’m sorry-”

“Can you please stop apologizing? It’s getting annoying.” You said to him annoyed. The sight of his head low and his gaze to the floor is hurting your heart once again. You want to lift his head up and hug him. But why do you want to hug him? You shook your head.

“I’m sorry-”

“I said stop! Why won’t you stop apologizing?” You scream at him and he closes his eyes as if hurt. Tears escape your eyes because of the frustration and you don’t even know why you are frustrated.

You just kept crying in front of him and Giyuu comes close to you to embrace you but you push him away aggressively. He looked so shocked, hurt, sad, full of emotions. 

The elevator door opened and you immediately went to your apartment door but a hand gripped your wrist.

Giyuu stood there, his brows furrowed in confusion and anger, his grip tight on you and you crying. You kept on trying to remove his hand on you but it wouldn’t budge. 

You could always tell what’s in people’s eyes and your intuition never failed you. His eyes were full of affection and longing. His hand forced your hand to fit into his and now your fingers are between his fingers. Why are you doing this?

“I like you”

He said as if he read your thoughts.

“But...” 

Your heart dropped.

“Why do you hate me?” Giyuu whispered 

You have never cried so hard in your entire life. 

a/n: I promise the next parts will make so much sense. I didn’t plan on this becoming a multi-chap fic. Oh well. It was all so much better in my head :((

[meliorist-midoriya]

the meaning of “i love you”

synopsis: bakugou tries to learn the meaning of “i love you” long after it’s been told.

pairing: bakugou x reader

genre: fluff with a touch of angst and lotsa pining

warnings: brief hospital setting, mentions of injury, bakugou is bad at feelings™

glossary: Y/H/N - your hero name

word count: 4.3k

a/n: dedicated to @katsushimaa​, the reason why this blog exists. in other words: HI YSSA IT’S YOUR ☀️ ANON (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ♡ update (1/6/2021): this fic is also read on peachy can’s youtube channel! this is with full permission and credit, and the only work with only this channel.

“I love you.”

Bakugou stared, speechless, as you confessed to him under the cherry blossoms, diplomas in hand. His throat locked and his tongue stalled as he wordlessly gaped at you. Around words? No, he didn’t even know what to say. The wind blew the petals off the branches, shocking him out of his stupor once they obscured his vision for one precious moment. He still couldn’t find the words to respond.

He didn’t know how.

All his life, he hadn’t cared for affection. Only victory. Anyone vying for his affections soon ran crying (humiliated, if they were lucky), the unread love letter crumpled in their fists as he moved on with his life without a care. But this, he couldn’t bear letting go.

Bakugou didn’t know how to hold on, either.

For the past three years, people came to know you as his other half. The one who kept him in line, yet helped lift him to even greater heights. The one who could withstand his withering glare with a smile. The one he kept by his side. For the past three years, your relationship remained ambiguous, this ambiguity becoming the open secret of your year. Too close to be just friends, yet not quite lovers either. A deeper connection that neither of you dug into, content with your dynamic.

Until now.

A part of him loathed that you were the one to make the leap when he didn’t even know what to say, but a little voice in the corner of his mind told him that maybe, just maybe, this would finally get his ass moving.

You smiled. Softly, slowly…

Knowingly.

He had to remind himself to breathe.

“You don’t have to answer me right away, I’ll wait for as long you need.”

And with that, you were gone. Bakugou was left staring at your back as you walked away from him and, as he would later discover, out of his life for the next two years.

“Hey, Bakugou! How are you holding up? Who knew Y/N took an offer in America? Did you know? None of us did.”

Ugh, Dunce Face. It’s been a month since graduation, and three weeks since you revealed you were entering America’s pro hero scene the day before you left. You’ve always been terrible at goodbyes…

Was that why you decided to confess at graduation? Because you knew you were leaving?

“No, I didn’t know, now fuck off.”

“Rude!”

The cherry blossoms have long since fallen, slowly unfurling verdant leaves replacing the pink blooms under the shining late spring sun. Of course, not even this beautiful scene could improve his mood when he was stuck on patrol with this idiot. Their agencies were working together, so he had no choice but to go along with it.

Once he gets his own agency, he swears…

“Bakugou-senpai!” A pair of second-years clad in the U.A. uniform called out to him, waving.

Ah. He recognized these two. Stuck to him like leeches after he spoke to Class 1-A as one of the Big Three, pestering him endlessly about all the crazy shit that happened his first year and asking him to mentor them. You were the only buffer that kept him from blowing up in their face.

“Ground Zero to you, extras!”

They laughed him off (these brats) and walked up, jokingly asking for their autographs. Kaminari took them up on it, shoving the paper in his face after.

After (admittedly very little) bitching and glaring, he snatched the notepad from Kaminari’s hand, signed it, and sent them on their way, letting his gaze linger on the pair as they elbowed each other and geeked out over the signatures they just got. In a brief flash of curiosity, he tried to imagine you two during your first year, walking back to the dorms after class, but something felt… off. The atmosphere wasn’t right, the image he tried to lay over the two students ending up washed out and misshapen.

An empty feeling sunk into his bones at the thought of having that same… disconnect with you.

“Ah, feels nice, doesn’t it?” Kaminari went ignored, Bakugou still staring at the retreating backs of the excited second-years. A devilish grin split Kaminari’s face in two once he followed Bakugou’s line of sight, “What’s this, Kacchan? Reminiscing over the old days already?”

Kaminari’s teasing tone ripped him out of his thoughts and Bakugou growled, shoving the blonde’s face away as he continued stomping down their patrol route.

“I won’t say it again, Pikachu, fuck off!”

Y/H/N DOMINATES HERO CHARTS FOR THIRD TIME IN A ROW

It took Bakugou a second to translate the headline from English to Japanese in his head, but he found himself smiling down at his phone once the words clicked. He expected nothing less, it was you after all. The U.S. Hero News logo faded away with the click of his phone locking, pocketing it as he swung open the door with a loud bang.

“Would it kill you to visit more, brat? And how many times do I have to tell you, stop slamming the door open!”

“Whatever, hag!” Bakugou snapped back, dropping the box of pastries on the counter before slumping into his seat at the dining table. Masaru looked up from his laptop and smiled at his son, something behind the mirth in his eyes that Bakugou couldn’t pick out.

“Someone’s in a good mood.”

Was he…?

Yeah, you could say that.

It’s been a little over a year since that day, and the both of you have paved your own paths in the hero industry since then. Bakugou finally, finally, after a year of busting his ass and making connections, went independent and started his own hero agency. Now, he only answered to himself (and, well, the Hero Public Safety Commission) and didn’t have to be held back by any hierarchy. An added bonus was that summer was always good to him (to villains? Not so much).

You? The headline spoke for itself.

“…I guess.”

“I’m glad. Your mother’s making your favorite for lunch, since this is your first visit ever since you opened your agency,” Masaru said, and there was that damn look again. 

The soft clink of the plate being set down in front of him cut Bakugou off before he could question him, and the flow of the meal swept away any opportunity he would’ve had. He found himself silently watching his parents’ interactions as they unfolded in front of him. An easy back-and-forth, flowing smoothly from years of practice.

Bakugou nearly dropped his bowl as an old memory blindsided him. An image of you, offering him food in the U.A. cafeteria with a smile flitted across his mind’s eye.

He shoved another piece of tofu into his mouth before the thought had the chance to linger. 

The rest of lunch went smoothly (as smoothly as it could with him and his mother in the same room), and he bid his goodbyes once the dishes were done and the end of his lunch break inched closer.

“I’m rooting for you, Katsuki,” The man in question shot a perplexed look at his father before shutting the door behind him. First, the weirdly knowing look, now this? Confusing old man...

He started down the path back to the agency for patrol, letting his gaze sweep over the bustling lunchtime traffic. Normally, he would’ve been keeping an eye out for any trouble since apparently, people loved starting shit when he was conveniently off duty. Instead, his mind wandered as he observed the people around him. 

People watching, was that what this is called?

He found himself doing this more and more often lately, as dangerous as it was to let his mind wander when he was out and about. An elderly couple tottering their way out of the corner store with their arms linked, the married couple further ahead swinging their squealing child in between them, a young pair giggling like lovebirds on a honeymoon as they walked down the sidewalk. His eyes skipped over the other pedestrians and bounced from couple to couple, subconsciously trying to make sense of the three words that had stubbornly stuck themselves to his mind for the past year.

Normally, he would’ve brushed off the thoughts plaguing him for the sake of his work, but these just wouldn’t leave him alone. They left him in a confused haze, a void slowly eating a hole in his chest and leaving him feeling incomplete.

To top it all off, he kept seeing you, in every couple that passed his line of sight. Every time he saw you two instead of the couple on a date or the married pair holding their child’s hand, the void closed for a brief moment before expanding even wider the second the image dissolved, leaving him with only a deep sense of longing making a home for itself in the void. Except he had no idea what he was longing for. He knew you were okay, and that was enough.

Was it really enough?

It was like he was trying to cobble together a puzzle with no reference and some of the ends cut off, blindly slapping pieces together and hoping it worked out. Loosely forming ideas, certainties, what-ifs, all trying to be linked together by a single man that, as much as he hates to say it, had no idea what the fuck he was doing (and it would be a cold day in hell before he asked for help). 

Shouts and screams snapped him out of his daze and he glowered at the villain crashing out of a nearby store. Sparks crackled and burst into blazing heat in his palms, evaporating the melancholy haze in his head to focus on the poor soul that had crossed his path.

The half-finished puzzle slunk back to the corner of his mind, waiting for the next time he would pick up the pieces and try again.

“I would like to get to know each other more, Bakugou-san. On a date, maybe?”

He paused mid-stride and stared at his colleague in barely concealed shock, who was too busy hiding her flushed face in her scarf to look back at him. He’s known this woman barely two weeks, then she suddenly hits him with this. Yes, he was caught off guard, sue him.

They were on a coffee run, for God’s sake!

“I mean, I know our agencies are only collaborating for this short time, but I think we could make it work, don’t you?”

Whatever else she was trying to say was cut off by a strong gust of wind nearly blowing the scarf off of her neck. The autumn chill the wind carried along with it wasn’t what made Bakugou feel oddly cold despite the scalding coffee in his hands, though. No, the chill had seeped into his being the moment she had opened her mouth, a certain dread at the thought of what would happen if he said yes.

If he said yes, he would lose you.

Suddenly, he was 18 again, diplomas in hand and wearing a uniform he had cast off long ago instead of his coat. He blinked, and he was back, still staring at the flustered woman next to him as the dying leaves fell around them.

Why? Why? Why can he only see your face? Why could he only see the pink cherry blossoms of a time past, instead of the blazing red leaves the wind had kicked up? He didn’t know the reason, he only knew that this wasn’t what he wanted.

“…No, I don’t.”

What did he want?

Walking into his office to see four people staring back at him with unreadable expressions was the last thing he expected today.

“Oh, Bakugou… I’m so sorry.”

What? Why was Mina looking at him like that? Kirishima, Kaminari, and Sero too. Did he miss something?

“Look, I just came in, so whatever the fuck happened, you need to spit it out, and you need to spit it out now,” He slammed his bag on his desk and glowered at the group staring at him with- was that pity? He didn’t need fucking pity! He needed information! What the hell was going on?

“It’s all over the news, bro.” He stared at Kirishima for a second, two seconds, the dots taking longer than they should’ve to connect.

News…? News…

He hasn’t checked the U.S. news yet.

Ignoring the foreboding feeling bleeding into his soul, he rushed to take out his phone from his coat pocket, nearly dropping it from his fumbling, and he pulled up the U.S. Hero News website as fast as his numb fingers would let him. That little loading bar was testing him, he swears-

Oh.

Suddenly the snow soaking into his coat and hair wasn’t so cold, compared to the chilling horror that froze him to his very core. The world stopped moving for this second, his eyes burning from how long he was staring at those little pixels spelling out his world crumbling.

Y/H/N CRITICALLY INJURED IN BATTLE. RECOVERY UNCERTAIN.

Almost immediately, his eyes zipped through the article, over and over and why were there no details?  Did no one really know anything? He’d have to make calls, send emails, pull strings, there’s someone in the U.S. he knows, maybe they would-

“-kugou? Bakugou! Snap out of it!”

Was he being shaken? Oh. He was.

Suddenly Kaminari’s face was up in his and he almost headbutted him from the shock.

“Dude, we lost you there for a second. You read that article like twenty times! Are you okay?” He growled and actually headbutted Kaminari this time, glowering at him as he stumbled back with a bump on his forehead, “Should’ve expected that…”

“I’m fine. What happened was unfortunate, but there’s nothing we can do. Now get to work, we have a case to work on.”

“That’s… cruel, man. We all know how close you were with Y/N, don’t you think you should care a little more-” Kirishima shut up with a single glare, valuing his tongue more than whatever message he was trying to convey. Care? He did care! There were so many things that had to be done, and he had no idea how much time he had left. But this… this was his problem, and no one else’s.

“Maybe you should dry off and warm up first to make sure you don’t get sick…?” Sero waved in the direction of the locker room, and Bakugou shouldered past him wordlessly, snatching up his bag and ignoring the water stains it dripped into the carpet.

“Is he really okay…?” Kaminari whispered the moment he saw Bakugou turn the corner.

“I think we already know the answer to that.” Everyone in his office nodded in agreement with Mina.

This was going to be rough.

Several hours later found him in a hospital of all places, speaking with a doctor about one of the patients that was involved with the case his agency was tasked with. 

Wait outside her room, they said, I’ll let her know that you need to speak with her.

Waiting was the last thing he wanted to do right now. Waiting meant he had to sit still, which meant that he had time to think. Waiting meant worrying. His mood was already sour from seeing all the happy couples cuddling up under the pre-Christmas snow on his way here. What would’ve usually left him with a gaping hole in his heart, instead made dread curl in his core and send a million and one what-ifs rattling around inside his head.

He needed to calm down, he couldn’t question anyone when he’s in a mood-

“Please, whoever’s listening, hear my prayer…”

Bakugou looked up at the sound of someone praying, his eyes stopping at the sight of a man kneeling at someone’s bedside with their limp hand clasped in his. The wedding bands on their fingers gleamed in the bright artificial light. He quickly cast his eyes back down to the linoleum at his feet, but it was too late, the headline running in his head for the hundredth time today.

The image of the man praying for his wife’s recovery kept playing in his mind like a broken record and, against his will, slowly changed to the image of you. Limp and wounded in a too-big hospital bed, connected to tubing and wires with too many machines beeping.

He felt sick, the dread climbing it’s way into the void in his chest and ripping it open to make a home for itself.

Of course he would hate seeing you in a hospital bed, just like he would Kirishima or anybody else-

No. This wasn’t the same.

He was scrambling for the puzzle pieces now, his mind going into overdrive to figure out if this wasn’t the same then what the hell was it?

“Ground Zero, sir? She’s ready to see you,” The physician pulled him out of his speculating and he nodded, clearing the sudden lump out of his throat and slipping into the patient’s room. A puzzle piece clicked into place the moment he saw her sitting up in her hospital bed, awake.

He wanted you to be okay.

He wanted you.

Bakugou found himself praying as he laid in bed that night.

The steady ticking of his clock roused him before his alarm did, a rhythmic metronome that dug into his eardrums and yanked him out of his deep sleep. Bakugou sat up with a groan, glaring holes into the damn thing like it had personally offended him for waking him up so early, mocking him with the time he was not supposed to be up at.

4:27 AM.

Wonderful.

Is going back to sleep an option…?

The restless energy that threatened to shake him out of his skin if he so much as held his breath was answer enough, and he swung his legs out of bed with a frustrated huff to go about his morning routine. An early start it is. The minutes passed as he went through the motions, coming back to his senses as he pulled out his phone while the coffee brewed and opened an app with practiced ease. Ease gained from opening it almost thrice daily for months.

He normally wasn’t a coffee drinker, but he would do anything if it pulled the void from his bones.

New hero, villain arrest, villain arrest, hero scandal, villain arrest, crime ring bust, hero scandal…

No news of you.

There hadn’t been news of you for the past four months, and Bakugou was slowly losing it. All the people he reached out to gave him vague answers or dead ends and only confirmed one thing: you were alive. 

At the time, it felt like Atlas had taken the sky back to carry on his own shoulders so Bakugou could finally breathe, only to dump it back on him the moment his relief wore off and he started trying to fill in the blanks.

You were alive, but were you okay? Were you in a coma? Wounded beyond repair? Put out of commission?

He shut off his phone, cutting off his train of thoughts, and filled his mug before making his way over to the balcony. Calloused fingers slowly traced over the books neatly placed on the bookshelf next to the balcony window, the early dawn light bathing the titles in a soft glow. He paused as the sunlight glinted off of a certain title printed in gold. Another memory rose from the depths as he read the title over, this time from that hellish first year at UA.

He let it, this time.

“I don’t want to read some fucking romance story.” He spit the words out like they were foul, scowling into thin air as you walked beside him, the book in your hands.

“Come on, Bakugou! It’s really good! You don’t even know what it’s about!” A glance down earned him your puppy eyes, and he begrudgingly conceded.

“…What is it about, then?”

“It’s a story about a girl that had to learn what emotions were, and the one that waited for her.”

You had shoved it into his hands anyway, and he never found the chance to give it back. 

A hesitant pause, then he slipped the book out of its space, wincing at the dust that billowed off of the cover. No harm in picking this up to read along with his coffee as long as it kept him from checking the news again.

His subconscious laughed at him as it picked up the puzzle again, slowly trying to piece it together as he opened the book to the earmarked page.

There was time for a quick read, right?

Wrong.

So, so wrong.

He ended up becoming immersed in the book, so drawn in by something about the story he couldn’t quite put his finger on, that he nearly ended up being late to work.

Nearly. Bakugou Katsuki didn’t do late.

He swung the door open right as the clock struck 8:50, brushing cherry blossoms out of his hair with a quiet grumble as he walked into his agency. He stopped short at the familiar (too familiar) sight of his friends grouped together, whispering to each other urgently.

“What do we do?”

“Just…tell him?”

“And get blown up because he decides not to believe us? Yeah, right!”

Secrets. Again. The last time this happened…

Nope, not going through that fucking song and dance again.

“Decide not to believe what?” They stiffened in shock and turned toward him with sheepish smiles. His scowl deepened, the scene reflecting one from this past winter too closely for comfort.

“H-Hey, Bakugou, what’re you doing here?” Kirishima, Mina, and Sero all groaned in unison as Bakugou cocked a doubtful brow at Kaminari’s godawful cover-up. He’d indulge him, for now.

“I fucking work here. What the fuck are you dumbshits doing next to the receptionist’s desk?” They floundered for an answer, and the receptionist himself stepped in with a polite, paper-thin smile.

“You have a guest waiting in your office, sir. I sent them in ahead of you.”

“That’s all you idiots-“ A pointed look, “-needed to say in the first place,” He resisted the urge to sigh at the people he begrudgingly called his friends. Fixing the bag on his shoulder, he turned on his heel to start in the direction of his office, “Probably that patient from the winter case again. See you.”

He made a mental note to give his receptionist a raise, especially since he had to deal with those idiots on the daily.

They watched him disappear into the hallway in stunned silence, Sero eventually breaking the silence to weakly voice the one question they all knew they were thinking.

“Who’s going to tell him it isn’t Mrs. Nakamura?”

The receptionist heaved a quiet sigh as he sat back down at his desk. He didn’t get paid enough for this.

“I already told you, Mrs. Nakamura, we’ll let you know if there’s any upda-” Bakugou’s words died on his tongue once he stepped into his office, his bag dropping to the ground with a dull thud that he didn’t acknowledge, “…You’re not Mrs. Nakamura.”

“I’m not.”

A soft laugh. How long has it been since he’s heard it last?

He watched as you slowly stood up from where you had been watching the cherry blossoms outside, not missing the slight wince and the bandages you were swathed in as you did so. It was the only thing holding him back from crushing you in a hug right then and there-

Wait, a hug? Since when?

Bakugou had the sense to get himself together and picked his bag up from off the floor, kicking the door shut as he did. Heart beating out of his chest, he walked over to meet you in the middle of his office. He felt the void in his chest filling, but there was something that was keeping it from completely healing over. He knew what it was, but how would he-

“You’re here?”

“I’m here.”

His head was spinning. You were here. You were more bandages than skin but you were here. You were okay. The weight lifted off of his shoulders again and, despite the relief flooding him, he managed to choke his response out, wincing at his tone.

“Why now?”

“Well, you probably saw, but I got my ass handed to me-” Bakugou couldn’t help the incredulous snort that slipped, tossing his bag onto the table. That’s putting it lightly, “-and my contract with the agency was almost over anyway, so I got sent home for the rest of my treatment and physical therapy.”

“That’s…good.” There were words he had to say. What were they, what were they? Hurry up you idiot-

“Um, I know this is sudden, but do you remember… at graduation…”

Of course you would beat him to it again.

“I remember, and I… think I have an answer.” His ears felt hot as you laughed again, but this time he saw the tenseness in your shoulders, wound up from nerves. A step closer (it felt right), and suddenly he was in front of you, nearly buzzing with anticipation.

“You think? Lay it on me, then,” You (tried) to give him a reassuring grin, the sight of you with the cherry blossoms outside painting an all too familiar image. His breath caught before he could get his words out, his heart beating the breath he would’ve used out of his lungs and no not again not now-

This time… This time he would have the words to answer.

“It took me two goddamn years to get this far, so you better fucking listen, and listen well.”

“I’m listening, Katsuki.”

How three little words could feel so foreign on his tongue was beyond him, but deep down, he had a feeling that it was right. Your brilliant smile after made everything worth it anyway, and he felt the longing void in his chest finally knit itself together. Another puzzle piece clicked into place, placed by your own hands this time. The picture was far from finished, but at least now he had you by his side to help him put it all together.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what love was, but he was sure of one thing.

He wanted to learn with you.

[kakashiofkonoha]

With the ask of the fake-dating nejisasu on their anti-facist movement:

How did the Sakura, Tenten, Lee and Naruto react? I bet they were the ones who started the rumors as they followed their team-mates, saw them together and were like: omg!! Neji is smiling!! Sasuke is laughing!! This is def a date!!!!

If Itachi is still there (he didn't kill the clan after all) how did he react???

And Gai and Kakashi are being little shits on the background I suppose.....

first part of the nejisasu fake dating au here

Since Neji and Sasuke are fake dating to piss off their clans, they would want their first "coming out", so to speak, to be as publicly as possible. As provocative as possible.

They would start the rumors themselves.

Let's admit it, they are both absolute drama queens. Always have been. So they would give them all a show.

Cut to a festival in konoha. Everyone is wearing their best yukatas and formal clothing. And Neji and Sasuke? They go all out. Absolute eye candy. The fangirls are fainting, half the guys are questioning their sexuality.

So Neji and Sasuke appear, and everyone is staring because hot damn!

But then, wait a minute- is Sasuke holding onto nejis arm? what about the tender looks? is this ... is this a date ?!?!

The rumor mill is spinning so hard, people are getting dizzy. One half of the fangirls emits killer intent, the other half is taking pictures.

And then- the music plays. Couples start to move towards the center of the square, starting to dance.

Uchiha don't dance. Hyuuga don't dance. It's not proper. Absolutely unthinkable. It just isn't done.

So everyone's jaws absolutely hit the floor with a loud crash when Neji offers his hand to Sasuke with an elaborate flourish - all very gallant- and Sasuke smiles gracefully, angelically even, and together they float to the dancefloor. Under the wide eyes of the whole village, they glide between the dancing couples in a mesmerizing display.

Internally, of course, Sasuke is clenching his teeth just to keep from laughing hysterically.This is the funniest thing he has ever done in his life!! And god, he is enjoying himself immensely. He always wanted to dance at the festival, but was never allowed.

Neji, on the other hand, is nearly shaking with nerves, because when he gets back home, there will be hell to pay. And he knows. So he tries to salvage this moment for as long as he can. Tries to hold on to it.

And how do their friends and senseis react ?

Lee is crying waterfalls. Loudly. One could say embarrassingly, but that's just lee for you. It's all so ROMANTIC AND YOUTHFUL.

Gai is in full supportive parent mode. He has so much advice to give to Neji. So many date ideas, gift ideas, and oh, maybe they could do a romantic challenge together and-

Tenten doesn't buy it for a second. She knows Neji. Neji is dancing like he's going to war. And well, if this is the way he wants to start shit with his family, then by all rights he is. So tenten resolves that she will do everything she can to support Neji.

Sakura and Naruto both have a crush on Sasuke.

Only that Naruto doesn't know- he's oblivious like that. So he's just very confused. Shouldn't he be happy for his friend? Shouldn't he be jumping around and cheering Sasuke on from the sidelines right now? Then why does he feel so .... empty?and hurt?

Sakura, meanwhile, is frothing at the mouth. Ohh, the wrath of a scorned woman...

Of course, Ino sees this as the perfect opportunity to step in and drag Sakura to the dance floor. Maybe now she will finally see what is right in front of her.

Kakashi is laughing his ass off. Just look at Fugaku's face! HAH! ohhh this is so funny. He promptly starts going around, telling people completely made up stories and starting as many rumors as he can:

"ahh yes, their first kiss was actually at the waterfalls, can you believe-"

"No, it was sasuke who confessed first, he actually got down on one knee, just imagine-"

"they have been meeting in secret for almost a month now, if their families found out -"

And Itachi?

ohhhh boy. Full protective brother mode. His eyes are itching like hell because he has to suppress his sharingan from coming out. He will have to do a thorough background check on Neji. Review all his past missions. Maybe he can get his hands on his psych-file, even.

Secretly though, he just hopes that Neji is the one that can make his baby brother happy. If he is, Itachi will gladly welcome him into the family.

[elizabeethan]

Never Nothing- Extra # 2

Another little extra for one of my favorite series!! Soft domestic fluff meets angst... There will be a follow up to this one, eventually.

For @the-darkdragonfly who wanted this to be a 12 part series… we’re halfway there baby

Rated T, mostly for language 

~4300 words

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Read on Ao3

Read the rest of the series

Read my other stuff

~~~~

“Stop it.”

 “I’m only trying--”

 “No, stop it.” 

 “My love, if you’d just--”

 “I don’t want to!” 

 “--you may find that you feel better.”

 “I won’t. I will never feel better, ever, for as long as I live. I will feel exactly this horrible every second for the rest of my miserable life.” 

 Killian sighs softly, smiling at her despite how much it pisses her off and running his hand through her hair. “I’m sorry you’re feeling so uncomfortable.”

 “Having a baby in August is not a good plan.” 

 “No,” he agrees. “I’m sure you must be feeling rather miserable.” 

 She nods, pouting. “Extremely miserable.” 

 He softly kisses the tip of her nose, taking out the sunscreen he’s been begging her to wear and squirting some into his hands. “Now, just imagine how hot you’d be if we were still in Phoenix.” 

 “Shut up,” she grumbles, leaning forward just enough for him to get her back. 

 “You’re the one who suggested we come to the beach.”

 She glares up at him, her lips pressed into a tight line and her brows covering her eyes almost completely. “You’re on thin ice.”

 “I think you’ll find there’s no ice this time of year, my darling. It’s very hot out; it would melt.” 

He can’t blame her for being miserable. At 37 weeks pregnant in late July, she can’t seem to ever get comfortable. Her back hurts her endlessly, her hips are sore, she’s been suffering with horrible heartburn, and the mood swings are difficult to keep up with. 

 He wouldn’t have it any other way, though. 

 “Why don’t we get into the water? A bit of buoyancy is sure to help your back.”  

 She sighs in defeat and says, “I’ll probably just get sea sick. Or eaten by a shark. Or stung by a jellyfish.”

 He kisses her nose once more and takes her hand, hoisting her off of the chaise lounge and placing his palm on the small of her back where he knows she’s sore. “I’ll fight off the sharks and the jellyfish, my love.” 

 “Promise?” she asks as she waddles towards the shore with him. 

 “Of course.”

 She squeals as she tries to get into the chilly water, but once they’re in and she’s used to the cold, she relaxes a bit. His heart flutters when she leans back against his chest, letting him bear her weight as he runs his hand along her bump and presses a kiss to her shoulder. 

 Feeling her pressed against him makes the blood rush through his veins, and he’s glad for the cold water keeping any obvious signs of his arousal at bay. He’s always found her unbelievably sexy, but seeing her in her yellow bikini, her bump on full display, is enough for him to have almost kept her home today. 

 “I know what you’re thinking,” she grumbles, her voice barely audible over the sounds of the waves. “And no, we’re not doing it in the ocean.” 

 “I would perish at the thought of sullying your purity on a public beach, love.”

 “Purity,” she scoffs. “I’m knocked up at 22. Nothing pure about it.” 

 He kisses her neck, then her cheek, and holds her close to himself, his bare wrist pressed to the side of her belly and his hand holding it tenderly. “We've talked about this, love,” he murmurs against her skin. “How this child has come to be is not important. What’s important is how fiercely the two of us love him.”

 “I know,” she agrees softly, dropping her head to his shoulder and sighing as she lets herself relax further into his hold and into the gentle current of the sea. “I just wish… sometimes I just wish you were his dad.”

 He sways the two of them together gently, letting the waves carry them, and reminds her, “I fully intend to be. Biology isn’t really a factor here, my love.”

 She hums happily as she lets him support every ounce of her, effectively floating just below the surface with him holding her up. “I just feel… I love this baby more than anything. I don’t regret having him, I just kind of wish you'd been the one to knock me up.”

 “Me too,” he laughs, “but it’s alright, because this child will be as much my son as any that I sire.” 

 “I love you. Sorry I’m a bitch.” 

 “You’re the furthest thing from it, darling. I’ll not hear you talking about yourself in such a way.” 

 She hums again and shrugs. “I could probably chill out a bit. I’ve been pretty snappy.”

 “Well, you’re nine months pregnant.”

 “Maybe I’ll keep being bitchy after the baby’s born.”

 “I hope so. I like you when you’re fired up.”

 She lies in his arms for a while, content to float almost weightlessly in the water as the pressure of the babe she carries is finally relieved. He feels the lad kicking about beneath the water, likely entranced by the dancing waves, and chuckles softly each time he gets a strike to his palm. 

 “What would you like for dinner, my love?” he asks after a long silence falls between them. 

 “Chinese food,” she answers immediately. 

 “That’s a nice dream. What do you actually want, Miss High Blood Pressure?”

 “Baaaabe,” she groans, tossing her head back against his shoulder again and gripping his forearms. “I don’t want grilled chicken.”

 “You don’t have to have grilled chicken. We can stop for fish.”

 “The baby wants lo mein.”

 “He can have some after he’s born and his mother isn’t at risk for preeclampsia.” 

 She grumbles some more, her words incoherent and inaudible over the sound of the water lapping around them. “Chicken,” she finally concedes. “But only if you make that sauce you made last week.”

 With a snort, he asks, “you mean the one with the bacon in it?” 

 “That’s the one.”

 “Alright, love. Let’s get you out of the water before you give birth to a raisin.”

 “You’ve gotta work on your dad jokes.” 

 ~~~~

 The days seem to be getting longer and longer, time refusing to pass at a normal pace as she lives in constant torture and betrayal of her own body. She loves being pregnant, honestly, but it’s becoming a bit tiring. The baby she’s hauling around is heavy, and her back is killing her. Killian’s being very wary of her slightly elevated blood pressure when all she wants is Chinese food and chicken nuggets. Her mom still remembers her days as a perinatal nurse and won’t stop accidentally scaring her when she talks about what she’s seen during labor. 

 Killian’s looking forward to the delivery, and she tries not to let that piss her off. Of course, she’s more than elated to see him so excited for their child to be born, and she’s so lucky to have a partner who will be there for her throughout the whole thing. But each time he tries to show her something he’s read in a book, or a breathing exercise they can try together during contractions, she wants to chuck something at him. After all, she doesn’t believe that he’s truly ready for what her body will be doing in just a few short weeks. 

 “During a contraction, I can try to massage your lower back if you’re standing. How does that sound?”

 “Standing?” she asks doubtfully. “I can barely stand during cramps.”

 “Don’t let him fool you; the massages don’t help,” Granny says ominously while she places her plate before her. While he’s been very strict about her diet, Killian can’t keep her from getting her French toast from Granny’s on Sunday mornings. 

 “And did you have a walking epidural when you delivered in the Enchanted Forest, Granny?” he asks, his tone sarcastic. 

 She rolls her eyes as she places his eggs in front of him. 

 Taking a deep breath with her eyes squeezed shut, Emma places her hand on the top of her bump as a zip of hot pain rushes up her chest and into her throat. Killian’s silent and still as he watches her, holding his fork above his plate as his brows furrow while she waits for it to pass. Once the pain subsides, he asks, “alright?” 

 “Heartburn,” she breathes. He pushes her glass of water towards her encouragingly as she breathes steadily. “Damn.”

 “It won’t be long, love.”

 “Yeah, he better make an appearance soon. I wanna meet him so bad, and I wouldn’t mind if the indigestion went away.”

 “Morning,” Ruby says happily as she refills Killian’s mug, much to Emma’s jealous vexation. 

 “Morning Ruby. What’s the report for this week?” he asks, happily going along with her perception of herself as the town crier. 

 “Not much, but there’s someone new in town. Can you believe that? The dwarves are doing some research to find out if that means we can leave.” 

 “Well, that will certainly be interesting,” he agrees, giving Emma a happy smile. They haven’t even bothered to attempt to leave themselves, although it’s suspected that they can. 

 “And everyone is excited to have a newcomer.”

 “I’m sure he must be a really interesting character, what with him wanting to come to Storybrooke.” 

 Emma snorts, digging into her breakfast once her least favorite pregnancy symptom subsides completely. 

 “I haven’t met him, but I’ve heard he is kind of an ass.”

 Moments later, her parents bustle into the diner and greet her with a broad smile as they approach them. “Hi honey!” her mom says happily. 

 “Morning,” she smiles. 

 “How are you feeling?” she asks as she and David scoot the two of them down in their booths. “How’s my sweet little grandson?” 

 Mary Margaret places a gentle hand over Emma’s bump and she stiffens just a bit. It always feels weird to have anyone but Killian put their hands on her belly. “Okay. He keeps flopping around and giving me heartburn.” 

 She hums in understanding, patting her belly. “Have you heard about someone new being in town?”

 “We were just briefed by Ruby,” Killian answers. 

 “Well, I met him very briefly. He’s handsome and very charming.” 

 “I don’t think Emma or Hook care much about that, Snow,” David says, and Emma nods. 

 “Well, I heard he’s coming here for breakfast today. Isn’t that exciting? You two won’t be the newcomers anymore.” 

 Emma laughs and nods through another bite. “I guess that’s true.” 

 They continue to chat through their meal, David talking about his job as an animal control officer. Apparently, they’re thinking about adopting a dog he’d rescued a week ago, and Emma’s only seen him beam like this a few times in the short time she’s known him. Things are good, the French toast isn’t giving her heartburn, she thinks she’s going to have a good day. 

 Until the bell above the door rings. 

 And he walks in. 

 She takes in a gasping breath, her eyes bugging out of her head as she swings her head away from the door. “Alright?” Killian asks her softly, leaning over the table and taking her hand. 

 She shakes her head and feels his body go rigid with panic. If they weren’t trapped in the booth by her parents, she would grab his hand and run out the back door of the diner to escape him. 

 “Heartburn?” Killian asks softly, not yet alerting her parents of her sudden shift in mood. “Braxton Hicks? Contractions?!”

 “No,” she croaks. 

 “What is it, angel? Talk to me.”

 She chances a look towards the door and sees him talking with Ruby, probably flirting with her shamelessly. Then, she looks back at Killian and whispers, “Neal.”

 He raises a brow in thought and then she watches as the pieces of the puzzle click into place. He nods once, looking towards the door and grimacing. Ruby starts to guide Neal towards a table and Mary Margaret gives him a friendly, excited wave before Emma can stop her. She wants to put her head through the table; maybe he won’t see her if she does that. 

 The only saving grace is the fact that she can spread her legs out and tuck her bump under the table. The last thing she wants right now is for him to find out that he fertilized the egg that became her son. 

 “Mary Margaret, right? Hi,” he greets casually. “And this must be your husband, and--”

 He’s staring, but not at her. He’s gaping at Killian. 

 “What the… Hook?”

 Killian looks as baffled as Emma must, and he gives her a look of confusion that tells her he has no idea what’s going on. Only, when he looks at her, so does Neal. 

 “Emma?!”

 “You two know each other?”

 “Oh my god,” she grumbles, dropping her head to her folded arms on the table. She’d pushed her plate away, unable to eat anything more as the stress of her sperm donor making an appearance in her life eats away at her. 

 “Darling, perhaps we should--” Before he can continue, she kicks him under the table, not wishing to let Neal know anything personal about her, especially the fact that she and Killian are together and that she’s expecting a baby in a few weeks. 

 “Darling? Are you two, like, dating or something?” 

 “Emma and Ho-- Killian live together,” her mother supplies, and Emma rolls her eyes. 

 “Huh,” Neal says in response. “You sure do move on fast.” 

 “Mate, that’s not--”

 “I’m not your mate, pirate.”

 Killian chuckles awkwardly and asks, “do we know each other?” 

 Neal looks like he’s ready to snap, perhaps jump across the table and strangle Killian at his cocky response, but he’s interrupted by the door opening again and Mr. Gold entering the diner. “Bae,” he calls, not yet taking notice of what he’s doing or who he’s talking to. “What are you doing?”

 “Bae,” Killian breathes, staring up at Neal and Mr. Gold in astonishment. “You… you’re Neal?”

 “What is going on?” Emma asks through gritted teeth, wanting nothing more than to escape. The position she’s put herself in in order to hide her bump is horribly uncomfortable on her back (and she probably looks ridiculous), and all she wants to do now is go home and sit on her new couch. 

 “What’s going on is your boyfriend is a piece of shit,” Neal spits at her. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” 

 “What, like I picked you? Lot of good that did me, what with the police, and the court hearings, and the community service, and the--”

 “Honey… This is Neal? I thought your name was Bae.” 

 “It was,” Neal grumbles back, turning towards his father and then back to Emma. “You told your parents about me?” 

 “Well, she kind of had to,” David responds condescendingly. “What with the--”

 “Dad. Please stop.” 

 “The what?”

 “Son, let’s go enjoy our breakfast and leave the family drama for later.” 

 The baby starts wiggling just as another bout of heartburn curses her, and she hisses, pushing her fist against her chest and leaning forward even more until she’s in an awkward position. “Honey, you need some tums. I told you, they’re safe for the ba--”

 “I’m fine,” she seethes, swallowing and breathing deeply through the feeling of lava crawling up her throat. She wants to leave so badly, but the moment she moves to stand, her pregnancy will become more than obvious. 

 “Family drama,” Neal laughs. “That’s rich, isn’t it, Hook? First my mom and now my girlfriend?”

 Emma glares up at him, practicing her mom-look. “Go away,” she insists.

 He scoffs and says, “Ems, come on. Let's get you out of here.” 

 “Excuse me?” 

 “Bae is Neal?” Killian asks through continued astonishment, looking down at his hand with his mouth agape, his brows furrowed. 

 “Stop calling me that,” Neal snaps. “You lost your right to talk to me when you killed my mother and sold me to Pan.” 

 Emma knows this isn’t true; Killian told her the story about the Crocodile murdering his first love in front of him. He told her about how he found her son years later and wanted to raise him as his own. She just had no idea that her son was… Neal. Evidently, Killian didn’t either. 

 “Neal, go away. Leave us alone like you left me to rot.”

 “I did that for your own good. You had to break the curse.” 

 “Right,” she scoffs. She wants nothing more than to rub in his face the fact that he abandoned her, homeless and poor and pregnant, but she holds in her anger. Truthfully, Neal leaving was one of the better things to have happened to her. It gave her Killian and their baby. It brought her to her family. It helped her find out who she is.

 Those facts don't make his betrayal sting any less, though.

 “Killian, maybe you should take Emma home,” her mother suggests through the haze of anger and confusion surrounding the table. He looks up at Snow, his jaw still dropped towards the floor and his eyes swimming with the guilt of his past, and nods. 

 “Aye,” he agrees, shaking his head and taking Emma’s hands. “Come, love. Let’s sail away.” 

 She wants nothing more than to agree, to nod and smile at him, taking his hands and letting him lead her out of the diner, but Neal remains firmly planted outside of their booth. If she stands now, she’ll reveal herself. She looks at Killian meaningfully with wide eyes, then glances down towards her belly and up in Neal’s direction. 

 He understands effortlessly and turns towards Neal, asking, “do you mind, mate? We’d like to head out.” 

 Neal rolls his eyes and concedes, stepping away from their booth and towards his father, and Mary Margaret and David stand to give them a path out of their seats. They're almost home free-- she can see the light at the end of the diner-- Killian leading the way and effectively hiding the evidence of her pregnancy. Or so she thinks. 

 Just as Killian’s hand reaches the door, about to push it open and gain their sweet escape, Ruby cuts them off with an excited greeting to Emma, reaching to give her a hug as she usually does and asking, “how’s my favorite little nephew doing? What is it now; three weeks to go?” 

 Emma freezes, eyes wide and face pale as Killian’s back goes stiff in front of her. The diner is silent, the early breakfast rush long over, and she knows Neal heard her. It’s confirmed when she hears the scratch of the chair against the floor as he stands and calls, “what, so he knocked you up, too? What a stand-up guy.” 

 The blood in her veins chills at his statements. Her jaw starts hurting with how forcefully she’s clenching it. She watches Killian turn around and fears that he’s going to confront Neal with the truth. In reality, though, he turns and looks only at her, taking her hands in his easily despite the fact that one is missing, courtesy of her ex’s father. “It’s alright,” he whispers, showing her just how much he understands her. Showing her that he can tell exactly what she’s thinking; can read the fear in her eyes at the thought of Neal finding out that this child is technically a part of him. “We can go,” he tells her. 

 She can’t help but to spin around, half turning to face Neal with tearfilled eyes, looking at him just once so that she can remind herself of the mistakes she’s made in her past. So that she can compare the despair he brought her with the joy that Killian brings so effortlessly. But it’s a mistake. She watches as his face falls, seemingly seeing just how pregnant she really is. 

 “Is that… are you…” He looks up at the ceiling, flexing his fingers as if counting on them. Counting the months since they were last together. Realizing it’s been almost nine months since their last encounter. Taking in just how large her bump is. “Emma…?”

 She should just turn around and leave, or ignore him; refuse to give attention to his thoughts so that she doesn't spur them on. But instead, she lets out a choked sob and buries her face in her hands as her tears flow freely. 

 Killian’s hand is on her back immediately, running soothing circles along her skin as he moves to stand in front of her and blocks her view of the rest of the world, consuming her with only his ocean-blue eyes. “It’s alright,” he whispers again. 

 “Did she say three weeks left? Is that…”

 “It’s okay,” he murmurs, and although Neal’s voice cuts through the air between them like a knife, all she sees is Killian. 

 “I wanna go home,” she cries softly, clinging to his hand and hook. 

 “We will,” he promises. 

 “Emma, is that my kid?”

 She can’t respond. All she can do is tilt her body slightly so that she’s looking past Killian’s right into Neal’s eyes, showing him the truth in her own. She can’t tell him with words that he fathered a child with her, but she knows that the look on her face is enough confirmation when his own pales and he drops back down in his chair. 

 He only stays there for a second before forcefully standing again, the chair colliding with the floor. Gold begs, “Bae,” reaching his hand towards his son, and Neal violently rips away from his father. 

 “Don’t!” He shouts. “Fuck.” 

 Before anyone can say anything, Neal is stalking towards Emma and Killian, and she almost feels nervous for a second, until he brushes past the two of them and slams his way out the door. 

 ~~~~

 Her lip trembles as he shuts the door, and she spins into his arms the second he locks it, bursting into tears easily. “He’s gonna take him,” she cries. 

 “Emma, no. That isn’t going to happen, love.” 

 She sobs some more, gripping his shirt with white knuckles, nodding into his neck and pulling him as close to herself as she possibly can with the bump between them. “He is.” 

 “You saw his face when he found out, darling. He has no interest. He’s already running.”

 “Everything was so perfect. Now it’s ruined.”

 “Nothing is ruined, my love,” he argues. “What makes you even say that?”

 She shudders in his arms, whimpering pathetically as the hormones take over and the fear of losing her child consumes her. “I wanted--” she chokes. “I wanted you to be his dad.” 

 When he pulls away from her, forcing her face from his neck, she cries out again, pained at the thought that she’s losing him, too. “Angel,” he murmurs softly, soothingly. “I am his dad. Perhaps the lad will simply be lucky enough to have two.”

 The violence behind her choked breathing is palpable between the two of them, showing him just how distraught she truly is as she asks, “you mean-- you mean you’re not leaving?”

 “You silly thing,” he breathes through a gentle laugh, pressing their foreheads together. “Do you really believe that that fool coming into our lives will sway me? I love you. Both of you.” 

 Her bottom lip trembles again as his hand slides along the side of her belly, the baby kicking against his palm in greeting. The fact that he didn’t stir when faced with his biological father doesn’t get past her as he wiggles against his dad lovingly. She lets out one last soft, whimpering sob and sniffles before saying, “I love you. We both love you.”

 He kisses her gently despite the tears and snot, making her laugh lightly. “Bae knows what it is to have an absent father, love. I’m… I’m truly shocked to know that the boy who lived on my ship all those years ago has done this to you. But I do believe that, now that he knows, he’ll do what he can to support you and the little lad. I believe he’ll do the right thing.”

 “Maybe I don’t want him to,” she pouts. 

 He smiles, cupping her cheek, and says, “that’s valid. And I know you're scared. But we’ll just have to sort out what’s best for the little one.” 

 With a heaving sigh, she drops her forehead to his chest and shuts her eyes. “Right now, what’s best for the little one is a nap.”

 “It’s only 10:30,” he jests, but despite his argument, he places his hand on the small of her back and guides her towards their bedroom. “Need a snack?”

 “More French toast.”

 “No. An apple.”

 “Never mind,” she grumbles, pouting as she collapses on the bed and holds up her feet until he starts pulling her sandals off. He shakes his head as he laughs lightly, running his thumb over her swollen feet and kissing her cankles. “Killian?” she whispers quietly. 

 “Aye, love?” he asks, almost as softly as he crawls up towards her and helps her lean back onto the bed. 

 She grunts unattractively as her swollen body flops like a fish across the mattress, drawing a soft smile from his lips. “I’m scared,” she whispers when his front wraps around her back. 

 “Aye, love. I know.” His hand slides across her giant bump, the baby kicking him gently, and kisses just behind her ear. “But you’re going to be fantastic. You’re so strong, and smart, and capable of anything you set your mind to.”

 “Then why can’t I just magic him out of here?”

 “Bae?” he asks with a surprised laugh. 

 “Yeah, I’ve been trying since we got home.”

 “You are a silly thing. And I love you very much.”

 With a contented hum, she pulls him closer to her despite the heat. “I love you, but let me sleep now.”

 “As you wish, my angel.”

~~~~

~~~~

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