#okay i officially can no longer remember if i was making a point

[rainybraindays]

Hm

[aliteralsemicolon]

I'll wait for your love - 18+

See part 1 | See Part 2 | Part 3 of We can't be friends (wait for your love)

The only thing you’re sure of is that you don’t want things to go back to the way they were and Spencer agrees that change may be for the best.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is NSFW and contains graphic depictions + detailed descriptions of adult content. It is intended for mature audiences only, minors do not interact!  You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read. 

WARNINGS: Panic attack mentioned, slight PTSD depictions, case details (barely) mentioned, alcohol mentioned like once. Smut (not the focus at all): making out, nipple play, clitoral stimulation, praise, use of pet names (angel, pretty girl, etc). Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 10.4K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

Avoiding Spencer wasn’t overly difficult on the flight back to D.C. You weren’t entirely sure how to face him after he risked his life for you, so you just pretended to be asleep the whole time. You even took a separate jeep from the tarmac to avoid a car ride back with him, and almost made a clean getaway to your car in the parking lot when Hotch stopped you. 

“I’m sorry to hold you back, but I do need the Anchorage report on my desk before tomorrow morning. It can’t be put off any longer.”

He looked extremely apologetic and you understood. You’re grateful he gave you as much time as he has. That’s how you ended up stuck at work til the later hours of the evening. Besides the few workaholics, security guards and janitors roaming around the corridors, the only other person there with you is Spencer, oddly. Even Hotch has gone home. You’ve spent more time stalking the doctor work through the pile of case files on his desk than you have writing in the one on yours. Only when you're caught do you look away. 

“Everything okay?” The innocent curiosity in his big eyes further reddens the hot embarrassment in your cheeks.

“Fine.” You mutter, dipping your head back down to the open page.

You’re never going to get this damn file done if you can’t get him out of your head, and him being barely three feet away from you doesn’t help. It’s very difficult for you to get your words from pen to paper. Anchorage wasn’t haunting you like it did at first. It was a traumatic event, yes, but alone isn’t the cause of this…block. Obviously the reality that you’re leaving is starting to dawn on you. Somehow your mind has linked this case with your departure and finishing this report makes it more official than your actual resignation. 

Plus, as much as you definitely hate Spencer, you do did care for him. The shock of him almost getting himself killed in front of you is another thing occupying your mind. It’s barely been twenty four hours since then, it’s still fresh. You can see him stand and grab his satchel in your peripheral vision, he’s preparing to leave. There are a lot of memories attached to that brown leather bag. 

Things he would carry in there for you when you forgot your own bag. 

You don’t make it obvious that you’re watching him gather his things in small glances. 

He bought extra hair clips for you to keep in there because you would often forget those too. 

It’s over now. No point in dwelling on it. You shake your head once he’s out of sight, trying to force him out of your thoughts. Now that he’s gone you’re hoping to actually be able to get some work done.

He taught you chess with the mini chess set he keeps in there. You discovered that you actually quite liked chess and would ask to play with him all the time. It was also his ‘secret’ weapon to help you calm down. 

You roll your eyes to push back the tears from the memories that refuse to stop playing. This can wait until you get home, it’s not important. 

It wasn’t the chess set that helped you feel calm. Spencer could win chess against you in just a few moves, but he would deliberately stretch out the game so you could have room to breathe. The longer the game, the more time you had to spend focused on the moves and slow down your thoughts. You could open up at your own pace. He would let you feel in control.

It doesn’t matter if he’s near you or not, Spencer has a way of invading your headspace wherever he is. Your train of thoughts is interrupted with a light thud on your right. You covertly roll the tears away again and turn to examine the source of the noise. A mug of coffee placed on your desk by

“Spencer?” You sputter breathlessly. 

“Sorry. I know you told me to stop. This is the last time I promise.” 

You don’t fully comprehend what he’s going on about, not expecting him to be here at all. 

“I thought you left.”

“I did– was. I was leaving, but I thought I’d make you some coffee before I go. Since you’ve been here a while.” He awkwardly explains. 

You steadily direct your attention back to the mug, reeling in what was happening. 

“Before you get mad, this really is just a cup of coffee from a colleague who thought it might help keep you energised if you’re planning to stay late. There’s no ulterior motive…”

He continues rambling but you’re not mentally present to hear any of it. 

He made you coffee. 

Even though you’ve been nothing short of an absolute bitch. Granted he was a bitch first, but the point is that he’s still thinking of your well being regardless. You can’t hide your tears from him this time. It’s the soft buzz of your name that draws you back to him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you! I’ll take the coffee–”

His panicked sentiment is cut short when you jump out of your seat and shove past him. The breakdown you’ve been avoiding hits you like a ton of bricks. You run into the nearest empty office and he runs after you, making it past the door before you can lock him out. 

“Spencer p–please get out! I’m fine.” You’re pacing in the same spot, fanning away the stream falling down your cheeks, hyperventilating.

He doesn’t respond to you, instead cautiously taking your hand in his. You’re in too frenzied a state to care. He guides you to sit on the couch against the wall and you blindly go along with it, still trying to get yourself together. 

You want to stop the tears, but you can’t do that until you get your breathing under control. He slowly wraps his arms around you and you slump into him, head buried in his chest. You should try to fight it, you should push him away, but you can’t. Right now, surrounded by his scent, held in his arms, you don’t want to move. It’s not something you can properly explain, but the feeling is so comforting that nothing else matters. All you know is that you’re safe and that’s enough for you to allow yourself to finally break down. 

The first few sobs are loud, like there’s not enough air in the world to stabilise your lungs. They fizzle out into silent whimpers and you grasp onto the fabric of his sweater, balling it in your fist, just letting yourself feel. Spencer still hasn’t said a word. His right hand is rubbing circles on your back and his left hand is gently scratching just above the nape of your neck. 

You stay like that for a while, even after you’ve stopped crying. It’s been so long since you’ve been in this little bubble with him and you don’t want it to end. You pull away when you feel the strap of his satchel across his stomach as your hand drops to his lap. He visually follows every move you make. 

“You’re still wearing your bag.” You sniffle, leaning back. 

“I am.” He whispers, understanding that you no longer want to be touched. 

He stays in his original position; facing you, but now with one arm resting on top of the backrest and the other idly in his lap. You’ve moved so that now you're facing ahead with your back leaning against the cushions, pulling your knees into your chest. You had never found comfort in silence until the first time you experienced it with Spencer. Staying huddled, you divert your eyes towards him. There’s a distinct wet patch on his shirt. It’s less visible on his sweater-vest, but it’s there. 

“Your shirt’s wet now.” It’s almost impossible to make out what you’re saying with your mouth muffled against your arm, but of course, Spencer manages anyway. 

“It’ll dry.” He smiles, tone delicate. 

“But– germs.” You choke a little due to your previous crying. 

“It can be washed.” He’s using his comforting voice again. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

The silence resumes. Neither of you dares to move, trying to freeze this moment. It’s obvious that you didn’t grasp how badly you craved each other’s presence. 

“D–do…” The initial sound grabs Spencer’s full attention again. You take a deep breath, hoping he wants to stay here as much as you do. “Do you still carry that little chess set with you?”

A small, airy chuckle comes out from him. 

“Would you like to play?”

“Please.” 

He creates some more space between you and begins to set up the board once he’s pulled it out of his satchel. You move to accommodate the set up, now facing him with your legs crossed on the couch and shoes abandoned on the floor. You wait for him to make the first move. After the opening moves the game doesn’t seem to get any harder and you know he’s throwing the game. You’re okay at chess, but he’s obviously a lot better. 

“You’re going easy on me.” You mumble.

“Because you’re not even trying.” He replies blithely.

“Why are you doing this?”

“Like I said, you’re making it too easy.” He gently teases.

“Not that. Helping me. You hate me, remember?” You say it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. 

“I don’t hate you.” 

“You literally told me that you hate me.” You chuckle, numb to the hurt that sentence once brought you. 

“So did you.” He counters in defence, trailing your hand as it carelessly moves your queen to her demise. 

“I was angry.” 

“So was I.” He spared your queen, in turn leaving his king vulnerable. 

“It doesn’t matter now…” You don’t finish the rest of your sentence but Spencer still hears it.

You’re leaving soon anyway.

“It matters to me.” If he left something unsaid you choose to ignore it. 

“You’re letting me win.” You whisper, feeling the urge to cry some more, but there’s no tears left. 

He doesn’t make a move, bringing the game to a halt. He’s waiting for you to meet his eyes. You know what he’s going to say. 

“Spencer, don't.” You beseech.

“Why?” If you looked at him instead of the board you’d see the way his eyes are pleading at you. 

“There’s no point.” This time it’s your voice that cracks. 

You're looking everywhere else and it makes you too aware of your surroundings. Like how the couch is lined up directly under a window that anyone could peek into. 

“Leaving is not the only option.” He solicits. 

He regards your discomfort and closes the blinds from where he’s sitting, pulling you back into the privacy of your bubble. 

“There’s nothing that you can say to make things go back to how they were.” You bite the inside of your cheek, fiddling with a random pawn. 

It’s not a proper two way conversation. You’re talking to yourself just as much as Spencer’s talking to you. You’re both trying to convince you of what you’re saying. 

“Things don’t have to go back to how they were.” The squeaks in his soothing tone are starting to melt any resolve you have left. 

“There’s no reason for me to stay.” You oppose, trying to make any argument stick.

“I can think of more reasons for you to stay than for you to go.” 

There’s an underlying tension bubbling. Neither of you notice it over your desperate tug of war. 

“I don’t think there’s anything that you can say to get me to stay.” Another baseless sentence meant more for you than for him. 

“Give me one chance. One chance to convince you.” He can see your internal struggle at his request and he throws out one final plea to sway you. “For nothing more than closure.” 

Closure.

You’ve spent months in turmoil over the hows and the what ifs, trying to conjure answers to questions that wouldn’t stop pestering you. You couldn’t turn him down even if you wanted to. 

“Closure?” You repeat, eyes finally latching onto his.

“Closure.” He whispers back in reassurance. 

“Even if you can’t convince me?” You caution, not wanting to give him false hope.

He doesn’t say anything, thinking over the scenario in his head. He simply nods and you mimic the action, blinking away the blur in your vision and dragging around chess pieces. It takes Spencer a second to figure out that you were moving them back to their default places.

“Okay new game.” You announce. 

Spencer blinks in confusion, waiting for you to elaborate. 

“I can ask you any question I want and you have to answer honestly. If by the end of the game I’m not convinced to stay, you back off for the remainder of my time here.” You pause for him to interject, but he doesn’t. “That means we stay away from each other, only talking when needed for work. Even then as cordially and professionally as possible. No more trying to make casual conversation or bringing me coffee or anything like that.”

“Till the end of the game?” He studies you. 

“Yup.” You smack your lips together. “Til one of us checkmates the other.”

“This means you’ll actually give me a fair shot?” 

“Between the two of us, I’m not the one known for cheating at games.” You jab, trying to ease the tension you could definitely feel now. 

“I meant a fair shot at convincing you. As in you’ll seriously take what I have to say into account.” He discards your attempt.

“No, I know. The opportunity was just too good to pass up.”

He can tell you’re trying to hold back a laugh from the small smile on your lips. It’s as adorable to him now as it was the first time he saw it. 

“Any rules before we start?” He asks, unable to hide his own smile.

“Only that we have to be honest.” You answer, immediately dropping your smile.

“Okay.” He agrees, smiling slightly wider.

“Okay.” You nod again.

When he finally makes the first move it hits you that you don’t actually know where to start. Theoretically, you know what you want to ask, but don’t know how to ask. You don’t know if you should jump straight into the questions or start with some ice breakers. Nothing is said for about four to five moves when Spencer pauses the game. 

“Are you going to ask any questions or have you decided that you just want to play one last game for your closure?”

“Huh?” You snap your vision away from the board. “Oh, sorry. I was thinking.”

“Do you want to return to the game after thinking of a few questions to ask?” He raises his brow and relaxes his jaw.

“No, no, we don’t need to do that. Let’s keep playing, the questions will come to me.” You brush off his suggestion and motion for him to continue with his turn. He doesn’t.

“What?” Your voice raises and you scrunch your nose from perplexity.

“Sorry, it’s just that you’ve put us on a time limit and this is how you’re using our time?” He airs, failing to conceal his amusement.

“Well excuse me if I don’t exactly have a list of questions ready to go for you.” You narrow your eyes in annoyance. 

“Why would you suggest this if you don’t have any questions?” He tries to hold back his laugh and ends up snorting as a result. 

“I have questions!” You jabber, unable to maintain your annoyance. “I don’t know what– where do I even start?”

“Start with whichever one comes to you first.” He shrugs, finally making his move. 

A lot of things come to mind when you think about it. The thing that screams the loudest twitches a nerve and you become instantly irate. 

“Okay.” You nod, tone harsh and flat. “Let’s start with whatever the fuck possessed you on the last case. What was your thought process when you put your life in danger like that?”

He almost gets whiplash from the change in mood, his face literally reads ‘are you serious?’. 

“He was going to shoot you.” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I was wearing a vest, I would’ve been fine.” You contend. 

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.” 

“Risk?! You literally put yourself in danger for no reason!” 

“I think it was a pretty good reason actually!” 

“Spencer that was–” You stop yourself with a grumble, inhaling deeply. 

“It was instinctual, okay?” He softly explains. “I saw him aim the gun at you and I just reacted.” 

“Well it was a stupid reaction!” You whine. 

“I’m not going to apologise for it.”

The glare you give is piercing, you bite the inside of your cheek to hold your tongue before you say something you can’t take back. Spencer throws his head back and sighs. 

“But I will promise not to do it again.” He adds, not fully intending to keep it. 

This was slowly turning into another argument, both of you shooting back too fast with your responses. You aren’t in the mood for another argument. So you redirect your attention to the game. 

“Check.” You mumble, buying yourself time to think of another question. “Why are you here so late anyway?”

“I wanted to finish some work before tomorrow morning.” He replies, moving his king to safety. 

“Yeah, what’s up with that? You could’ve done those tomorrow as well.” Your voice softens out of curiosity. 

“I wanted to get them finished in case there were more tomorrow.” It’s not his best excuse. You don’t know what he means by that. He doesn’t know what he means by that. He’s lying to you. 

You scoff, poking your tongue against your cheek. “Wow. You really can’t not cheat during a game, can you?” 

“Right, sorry.” Spencer clears his throat after the initial confusion clears. Complete honesty, it was your only rule. “I wanted to be here.”

“For…” You egg on, purposely rolling your ‘r’s to prompt him. 

“I wanted to make sure that you were okay.” He admits, looking away from you. 

“Why?” You’re genuinely puzzled at the admission. “You’re the one who almost died. I mean, it was stupid and your fault, but still. If anything I should be checking up on you.”

“Check.” That’s the only response he gives you. He hopes that you don’t push further, but he knows that you will. 

His lack of response only forces you to think about the possible reasons by yourself, using context clues to figure it out. You are a profiler, after all. 

“Is this because of the panic attack?” You note how his jaw twitches when he swallows at the mention. “It is! You seriously chose to spend your night stuck at the office because of that?” 

“What else was I supposed to do? It’s not like you would talk to me, you literally refused to even look at me!” He gripes. 

“Spencer I think anyone would panic if they got tackled to the ground by a six foot man without warning. I’m fine.” You giggle.

“What happened to complete honesty?” It’s his turn to glare at you.

“I am being honest!” You protest.

“Lying by omission is not being honest.” He rolls his eyes.

“Okay Mr. know-it-all, what am I lying about?” You challenge.

“Seriously? You don’t remember?” His approach is doubtful and he just stares at your dazed expression.

“Fucking spit it out already, Spence!” 

Any sarcasm he had geared up for a response dissipates at your use of his nickname. He’s heard it plenty in the last few months, but not from you. For a moment things feel like they never changed. It stings in a bittersweet kind of way. 

“You sc–screamed– uh–” He clears his throat and rapidly blinks, his nose twitches in the process. “During that panic attack, you repeatedly asked me to stay with you. Y–you, uh– you said you didn’t think you could li–”

“Stop. Stop. Stop talking.” Your voice quavers and you hold your hand up, ears burning up. “I don’t wanna know.”

You don’t know why it makes your heart race the way it does, you don’t even remember it. He waits a while before speaking up again, wanting to be careful about how he goes about the topic without you shutting down.

“May I ask you a question?” He voices professionally, trying to make the conversation less personal so you don’t feel cornered. 

You nod, moving your king out of check.

“Is there anybody you will talk to about Anchorage? Without pushing them away?” He keeps the game going as he speaks to provide you with a distraction. 

“Woah– Anchorage? Where is that coming from?” You titter.

“I want you to remember that we promised to be honest and I won’t push if you ask me to stop, but I know for a fact that you aren’t okay.” He waits for you to stop him but you don’t, even though you know roughly what he’s going to say. “Panic attacks aside, your avoidant behaviour around the topic, inability to focus, being easily startled, you’re showing signs of PTSD.” 

“Spence, c’mon. I don’t need to talk to anyone. I already passed the psych evals.” You attempt to make light of the situation with carefully chosen words so you’re not lying. It was a futile attempt, you know he’s not willing to budge when he doesn’t give you anything more than a blank stare. 

“Why does this matter so much to you?” You sigh in defeat. “Whatever happened…that’s a part of the job, you know that.”

“I also know, first hand, that it takes over your life. You can’t run from it, no matter how much you try to.” His tone is soft as he speaks, yet you feel like he’s accusing you. 

“I am not running! Why would you say I’m running?” You object with a high voice, shrugging your shoulders. “And it’s not taking over my life. Also, check.”

“Because that’s what you do when you don’t want to deal with something.” He states point blank.

“Woah– so– that was entirely unnecessary.” You stammer, unable to deny it. 

“I’m not criticising you. I just happen to know you and I know that you have a tendency to run from your problems. And it is taking over your life.” 

“You’re profiling!” You gasp.

“You know that it’s not something we can just turn off! No matter how much we pretend like we can.” He waves his hands defensively. 

You can’t argue with that, your lips twisting to the side. 

“You want me to be honest?” You murmur sheepishly. 

“Always. Please.” He responds gently, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I spend a good chunk of my day actively avoiding thinking about it, but somehow I always end up thinking about it anyway. At times it’s like I can almost feel…” You breathe in instinctively. “This is the first time in months I’ve been able to do anything without it lingering in the back of my mind. Can we please talk about it another time? I would rather talk about other things…”

Another time. 

“...right now.” 

You’ve implied that there will be another time to talk and he definitely caught it, even if he pretends that he hasn’t. You don’t even know if what you said is true, you got too comfortable with the familiarity of his friendship. It was something you said out of habit from back when you two actually were friends. Not even a full hour's worth of conversation with him and he’s already worming his way back in.

“Um–” You drag yourself further back on the couch, creating more physical distance. 

“That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it at all.” Spencer senses your urgency to leave the situation and jumps into damage control. “It’s your turn.”

“No, um, I should– I should go. Thanks for doing thi– helping me.” You turn away from him, aiming for your shoes and ready to bolt.

“The game’s not over.” He points out.

“Yes it is.” You declare, still in the process of putting on your shoes.

“You said til checkmate.” He huffs, shifting out of his seated position. 

“I forfeit!” You throw your arms out in a shrugging manner, standing up after him.

“I can’t believe this. You’re going back on your word!” He doesn’t even raise his voice. He’s just hurt. 

“What’s the point, Spencer? Closure doesn’t mean anything, I’m still leaving! You can’t magically change my mind!” You yell, getting louder with each sentence. 

“I disagree. I think that you’re running again!” He blocks your way and yells back, maintaining his volume throughout. 

“Maybe you should think less!” You suggest, still yelling. Sarcasm is your defence mechanism when you have no actual defence. 

“You know what else I think?” He continues, emphasising the word ‘think’ every time he says it out of spite. “I think that you agreed to this thinking I won’t be able to convince you, but I am!”

“I don’t care what you–”

“I think you don’t want to finish the game that you started, because you’re afraid to ask the harder questions!”

“Stop.” You command, but it doesn’t deter him.

“I think that you’re scared to hear my answers because then it all becomes too real for you–” 

“Stop!” The words almost get stuck in your throat, but you choke them out. “You’re wrong.” 

“If I’m wrong then prove it. To both of us.” He sits back down and motions to the board. “Ask the real questions.” 

“I don’t need to prove anything, you’re wrong.” You uphold.

“So leave.” He challenges, knowing that you won’t be able to. 

If you truly believed that he’s wrong you wouldn’t feel the need to prove it, but you do and he knows that. You walk back over to the couch, head nodding from irritation, tongue poking your cheek. You kick your shoes off with a bit of force and return to your earlier position across from him. 

“Your move.” He reminds you as you settle in.

You don’t reply yet, but move your rook to set him up for the next move.  

“Check.” He smugly states.

“Who was she?” 

You don’t move, examining him close for any change in his behaviour. He obviously didn't anticipate that question first, snapping his sights back on you. 

“Sorry?” 

“The woman who greeted me at your door. That night at your apartment.” 

“Charlotte.” He replies, holding your gaze to show you he’s got nothing to hide. “We met at the library a week before.”

“Are you guys together?” You break away first, diverting your eyes to the chess board and trying to seem unfazed when moving your knight. 

“No, God, no.” He denies immediately. 

“I don’t know, she seemed pretty cosy for someone you met a week prior.” You don’t mean to sound as snide as you come across.

“No, it wasn’t like that at all.” He shakes his head. 

“You sure? Because I’m pretty sure I saw her mark you up with a kiss on your cheek before disappearing.” You don’t look at him, examining a captured pawn as you wait for him to make his move. 

“Mark me up?” He cognizes it instantly. “Are you…jealous?”

“What? No!” You vehemently deny, your voice rising in several pitches. 

“You are!” His eyes widen. 

“I am not jealous.” 

His jaw slacks and he lets out an amused scoff. He doesn’t say anything, making you feel the need to fill the silence. 

“I only bring it up because…I know you have a thing with…germs.” Your words falter because of your own uncertainty and you want to dissolve into the fucking floor. 

Spencer tries to suppress a smile by poking his tongue out slightly. If the atmosphere was lighter he’d tease you about it, but he doesn’t want to make you take off again. Still, he feels the need to clarify the events of the night. 

“I don’t know why she kissed my cheek, it was completely random.” He takes his time saying it, still fighting a smile.

You swallow nervously and purse your lips to the side in response. One question answered and you only have new ones in its place. Did she stay the night? Did she sleep on the couch or on his bed? Did he see her again? 

“I drove her home right after you left.” He can almost hear your thoughts. 

“Was it a date?” You softly gulp again, unsure if you even have a right to know.

“Yes.” He hesitates. 

“Oh.” 

“I wanted to try out casual dating for once.” He chagrins. “I honestly don’t know how you did it, it’s not even fun.” 

“No it’s not.” You chuckle dryly. “So no second date, I presume?”

“Definitely not. I was just stressed the whole time.” He chuckles with you. 

“Take a shot of tequila before you go next time, it helps settle the nerves.” You joke, jumping to give him advice you hope he doesn’t take. You can’t help it, it’s what you’ve always done. Even if it goes against what you desire. 

“While moderate consumption of tequila can help relax the nervous system, I will not be turning to alcohol for stress relief.” 

“Then blast classical music while you get ready and give yourself a pep talk out loud, it’s actually really efficient–”

“There won’t be a next time. For a really long time, if ever.” He interjects, miffed at your insistence. 

“You willingly plan on committing to lifelong celibacy?” You exclaim with a puzzled look. “Why?!”

Spencer laughs at how raw your reaction is. He didn’t plan on giving out any more details but, with that prompt he decides that it’s now or never. 

“I don’t think any future dates will appreciate me picturing someone else in their place the whole time.” 

Oh. 

Both of you lock eyes at the same time. This is not a road you’re prepared to go back down, even if that’s literally the whole point of this conversation. You’re too stunned to reply and Spencer uses this as an opportunity to be elaborate. He doesn’t want any misunderstandings this time. 

“I couldn’t stop pictur–”

“Shut up.” You blurt out the sentence in almost one word. 

Your heart’s racing like you’re standing on the edge of a cliff. You’re flustered, every part of your body is heated from how terrified you are.

“Y–you don’t have t–t…you don’t owe m–me an explanation.” You try to elaborate, contradicting yourself and stumbling on your words.

“I want to.” He reads that you’re apprehensive but pushes regardless. 

“Please don’t.” The tears that you thought had dried out were building again.

“Why ask if you won’t let me answer?”

You don’t have anything to say to that. Did you want answers? Yes. Still, you didn’t expect how hard they’d be to hear. He whispers your name and you scramble to think of your next move, and not in chess. You’re unable to even think about the game right now. You want to bolt, but you can’t even get yourself to move. So you deflect. 

“Because it doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” Although his tone is subdued, the pace of his wording is faster. “I think it does matter and that’s why you’re afraid to hear it.”

He’s right but you can’t bring yourself to agree. This is only going to over-complicate an already complicated situation.

“It’s not enough.” Your voice cracks.

“How can it be if you won’t even give it a fair shot?” 

“Fair?” 

It comes out louder than you intended. His words trigger resentment within you and you snap. 

“Nothing about any of this is fair! I mean, fucking hell, Spencer, four years. That’s how long we’ve been friends. I mean I’ve shared shit that I thought I would be taking to the fucking grave with you! You were my best friend for four fucking years and all it took was like, five seconds?”

You sob, softer than when you were first crying, but the frustration is clear. He reaches out to touch your hand, but you push his hand away. 

“No!” You choke, sobbing harder when you try to compile your thoughts. “Five seconds to destroy all of it! It makes me wonder if everything we shared, our friendship, was it ever even that strong?”

Your anger simmers to sadness, as evident with how your yelling fades into whispering in the last sentence. 

“I can’t even tell you when exactly those five seconds were. I mean, I know…but…I don’t. Where did it go wrong, Spence?” 

“I don’t know.” Is all he can say after a beat of silence.

He knows exactly where it went wrong. 

“Yeah, me neither!” You sniffle, immediately wiping a single tear that manages to escape. “So again, it doesn’t matter.” 

“When you took it back.”

“What?” 

“That’s where everything changed for me. You showed up at my apartment drunk, after your date with Nathan. Your exact words were ‘I mean as an amazing friend’.” His voice strains like he’s forcing himself to speak. 

Your gaze falls, eyes darting everywhere as you try to jog your memory beyond the one sentence you remember. 

“I don’t understand.” You croak.

“You know, if I wasn’t who I am, maybe you could love me the way I love you.” He chuckles bitterly, fighting back tears of his own. “That was– that was, uh, what you said before you took it back.”

“Spence, please…” You whine without sound, tilting your head back and chewing on your lip as a final attempt to stay composed. 

“No, you wanted to know where it went wrong.” He laughs falsely to downplay his tears. “You can say it doesn’t matter all you want, but the fact is, it does matter. It matters to me and I won’t let you run from it anymore.” 

You can’t look at him. Not with tears free falling down your face. You cup your hands together in your lap, pressing your fingers and nails together. 

“You told me that I couldn’t love you.” You struggle to sound your words. 

“I’m an idiot.” Another chuckle, but he sounds defeated. “When you said that, all I could think about was how badly I wanted to say that I do love you.” 

You tearfully laugh at this admission. 

“I only took it back because of what you said. I panicked. I thought I’d ruined things…which I guess, I still did.” Another laugh from you.

Spencer responds with the same regretful sound. 

The irony spurs another fit of giggles amongst you, this one slightly longer and infinitely more rueful than the last. You look anywhere but at each other until it grows quieter. 

“If you loved me, why the fuck would you tell me that I couldn’t love you?” You sound just as, if not more, defeated than him. 

“Love.” Spencer corrects without missing a beat. 

Your brows twitch up and your heart jumps. 

“I was so hung up on every single part of your sentence that I didn’t know what to say first.” He proceeds to answer you without leaving much room to process what he said. “I wanted to tell you that I do love you. I love you as you are. Not as somebody else.”

“But you didn’t say any of that.” You ignore all his admissions, not fully comprehending. 

“Like I said, I’m an idiot. I was in so much disbelief and that was the first thing that came out of my mouth.” He sullenly huffs.

You don’t reply, sniffling with your head down. 

“For like a second, I had everything I wanted. Then you took it back and it was like my whole world had been ripped out from under me. In those five seconds, you’d given me a taste of what I’d spent four years convincing myself I couldn’t have and I just– I couldn’t go back after that.” He adds after a stillness. 

After a short while, your focus shifts from your hands to the board in front of you. The game’s been long forgotten. You’re immersed in the conversation, in spite of how strenuous it is. 

“I understand why you were distant, even mean, at first.” You snivel. “But after a while you just became downright cruel.” 

Spencer doesn’t shy away from your gaze when you do look at him. His skin is as drenched from crying as yours is. 

“I mean ‘I don’t want to see your face’? I know that I don’t really have a leg to stand on anymore, but, what the fuck Spencer?” 

He doesn’t cringe any less with every reminder. He’s truly regretted the words since they left his mouth. 

“I wanted to hurt you.” He reveals. “I thought you were being deliberately cruel and I wanted you to feel exactly how I was feeling.”

“Deliberately?” 

He nods, hanging his head.

“I thought that you knew how I felt and were just trying to be funny or something.” 

“Well I didn’t. I wasn’t.” You cut him off with a constricted voice.

“Even if you did, it’s not an excuse.” His eyes are glistening from the outpour of tears, but he still lifts his sights back to you. “I’m sorry.” 

You don’t know how to acknowledge his apology at all. You’re not even angry anymore, all you feel is sorrow and regret for the way everything happened. An entire friendship down the drain due to an unfortunate set of circumstances. 

“This is so fucked up.” You say with another mordant laugh. “All of this could have been avoided if we just talked about it.”

It stung less when you had somebody to blame for it. Your vision blurs and you make no effort to clear it, letting yourself cry openly. 

“We’re talking about it now?” It’s almost a squeak, the way it’s spoken.

“Yeah, but,” your shoulders slump, defeatedly, and you have to pause to control your sob, “what good does it do now? I’ve already lost the best thing that’s ever happened to me in the most pathetic way possible.”

“I’m right here.” He counters in such a small voice that it gives your goosebumps. 

“Spencer, too many things have been said…”

“When you first joined the team, I instantly knew I liked you.” 

He chews on his lip and darts his eyes around while he contemplates if he wants to continue. 

“I thought it was because of your kind nature. You were so sweet to everybody.” He decides he does, but his voice shakes throughout. “You have this gift…you make people feel so good about themselves. Whenever you spoke to me, I felt like the most important person in the world. It was impossible not to like you.”

You want to pretend like you don’t know where he’s going with this. You want to stop him, but your voice is stuck in your throat.

“It wasn’t until you bought me coffee for the first time that I realised just how much I liked you.” He chuckles again, as he reminisces in the memory. “You didn’t even get my order right until the fourth time, but it was still my favourite cup of the day.”

“You make me sound like a saint.” You finally choke out, attempting to play down the confession so it doesn’t crush your heart. “The only reason I even started bringing you coffee is because you learned how I like my coffee first.” 

“Not a saint, an angel. I’ve fallen so deeply in love with you that there are times where it genuinely feels like I’m in the presence of an angel.” 

It’s stated with such sincerity that it knocks the wind out of your pipes. Your eyes are widened and you’re biting your tongue with your mouth closed, staring at him with your chin tucked. He seems so confident, even with the glistening from previous tears in his eyes.

“I wanted to be in your life in any way you would have me. Even when it meant that I had to accept you with other people. And it was bearable, until…” His reminiscence only ends at the memory of the night that changed everything. “Like I said, I couldn’t go back.”

The last part fades into another whisper, only then do you find the courage to speak up. 

“Exactly.” You stick to your denial. “It can’t go back to how it was before.”

Your heart is so sure of what it wants, but your head is blinded by fear. You’re at a crossroads, except one path, the path that leads to everything you long for, is clouded with a fog of uncertainty. The other path is so painfully clear, you can practically see what’s on the other side. A fresh start, where the risk of fucking up further doesn’t exist. What you don’t see is Spencer.

“Good. I don’t want it to go back to how it was.” 

Spencer’s waiting for you to enter the fog. He’s going to be there holding your hand every step of the way. 

“I’ve already handed in my resignation.”

“That matters less than everything you’ve claimed doesn’t matter.” He leans in, intensifying his eye contact. 

“I’m pretty sure Hotch is really close to confirming my replacement.” You comment half-heartedly. 

You’re trying anything to dissuade both him and yourself from acknowledging the obvious, but he doesn’t plan on letting you avoid it. 

“I love you.” He whispers softly.

“Spencer…” You begin when he takes hold of your hands and whatever you had to say disappears from your tongue. 

“I love you. With every atom that makes up my body.” He repeats himself with further elaboration to instil it in your mind.

“I’m scared.” You whisper back with a sob, finally accepting it. 

“Why?” His voice can’t be any softer, but it still cracks a little.

“Because, you can’t guarantee that it’s going to end well.” You allow your vulnerability to peek through. “And that’s going to hurt more. I’d rather leave now than fall deeper.”

Although you didn’t say it back, it’s an indirect admission that you love him too. And it’s enough for him to fight harder.

“I know that my credibility isn’t the greatest,” he coaxes a small, sad scoff out of you, “but I truly believe that this, us, we’ll work. Because I know that I’m going to do everything I can to make this work.”

He feels bolder when you don’t pull away from his touch, folding your fingers into your palms and cupping over them. You observe the sight as it unfolds in lieu of a verbal response. 

“I’ve spent four years judging any man that comes into your life, wishing I was in their place, swearing I would treat you better than all of them.” 

Spencer feels the need to fill in the silence and he lets honesty guide his confession. He leans in further as if he’s indulging his deepest secret. 

“Four years wasted wondering what could be, cursing out those idiots, but taking no action to make it happen. And that makes me the biggest idiot out of all of them.”

When he speaks like this, with his big, imploring eyes and prayerful tone, it melts your heart to a point where it almost hurts. The more he talks, the more you begin to lean in, opening yourself up to him.

“It took losing you to realise how badly I fucked up and for that I will never forgive myself. I know that I have no right to ask you to waste any more time on me…”

There’s no more resistance against the pull you both physically feel to each other. 

“...but I’m begging you for a chance to do today what I should have done way before yesterday.” 

Your faces grow closer by the second, you can feel each other's breaths against skin.

“And I’m going to spend every tomorrow proving what I said today.” 

The likelihood of him changing your mind with one conversation wasn’t very high, both you and Spencer knew this when you got into it. You’re not entirely surprised when he somehow manages to overcome those odds too. You take the step to close the gap and lightly press your lips to his. 

It starts off soft, there’s no lust, no ulterior motive behind it. It’s a simple confirmation that you’re both present and this is real. Spencer doesn’t shy away from the kiss, not that you’d call this a kiss. It feels more intimate, more unguarded.

Spencer pulls you onto his lap as he shifts and leans back against the backrest to allow more room for you. You wrap your arms around him and the kiss deepens. In the midst of you straddling him, he slides the entire chess board off the couch and the pieces scatter on the floor. It’s only when you feel that the kiss can’t bring you any closer to him does the lust emerge. It fuels a desire to prove that you both whole-heartedly belong to each other. 

There’s no pinpointing when the switch happens. All you know is that the feeling of his lips against yours is no longer enough. You cup his jaw in your hands, swiping your tongue on his lower lip and it causes his grip on your waist to tighten. He parts his lips for you and it starts what you can only call a dance with your tongues. 

Your breathing grows hotter, your hips subconsciously grind against him. There’s a prominent bulge that brushes against your heat and you whine into his mouth. Spencer grunts your name in response and then abruptly pulls away.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down.” He breathlessly whispers against your lips. 

“What?” You whisper back with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He gazes into your eyes, afraid that you might regret this later.

“I’ve never been more sure, actually.” You’re confident at first but the look in his eyes makes you pull back further. “Unless…you’re not sure?”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. I want you.” His tone rises just above the previous whisper with his clarification. “It’s just that the last thing I want to do is take advantage of you when our emotions are running high.”

“Four years, Spencer.” You lean in again, just brushing your lips against his. “The only reason you should be making me wait is if you’re not sure.”

He shuts that idea down by crashing his lips on yours. The kiss is so hungry, so desperate, it’s everything both of you have longed for and denied yourselves everytime you’ve been in each other's presence. It doesn’t take long for hands to start to roam. He traces the curve from your waist to your hips, stopping just at the hem of your shirt, tugging it like he’s asking for permission. 

You rush to undo your buttons and he meets you halfway, starting at the bottom. His fingers brush against yours as you two reach the final button and you pull the fabric off yourself. You do the same with his shirt, lips remaining locked, except for the small gasps of air you take in between. It requires a bit more manoeuvring with him, but you’re both soon shirtless. 

His mouth travels to your jaw and you shut your eyes from pleasure as he continues down to your neck. The stubble on his chin tickles your skin. You cup it, gently pushing him away with a giggle. 

“Forget to pack a razor in your bag, Dr. Reid?” Your voice is teasing, more playful than seductive.

He chuckles, airily, hiding his groan. He knows you’re being sarcastic, but the use of his title, with your voice in this context, catches him off guard. You moan as you feel his growing bulge against your heat when his arms tighten around your waist, pulling you into his kiss. You swiftly undo the clasp of your bra, but before you can take it off, Spencer grabs you from just below the hips and lifts you up off him, gently laying you down on the seat of the couch. 

There’s no room for hesitation as his lips find your neck again and he nips at the skin. Every suckle earns him short gasps and the grip in his hair tightens as he travels lower. He stops just above your breast, pulling himself up to sit on his knees. You stare up at him with a heated gaze, the nail of your thumb resting between your teeth with your lips parted to make up for the loss of his lips. 

He reaches for your bra strap and begins pulling slowly, searching your eyes for any signs of you withdrawing consent. All he sees is how beautifully they sparkle when you give him a light nod. It’s been too long since he’s seen the stars that you hold in your eyes, stars he accustomed himself to before he even got to properly know you. 

Gazing into his eyes, you’ve never felt more sure, more safe. You trust him implicitly and you’ve never wanted anything more. His constant need to make sure you're comfortable sends shivers down to your core. He slides the garment off you and Spencer’s beyond grateful that he’s already on his knees, knowing that if he was standing he’d fall to them because of the sight below him. 

His eyes don’t falter once, he’s trying to permanently etch this moment into his brain. He hovers his fingers above your body, thumb brushing against your hardened nipple and you softly whine. He looks awestruck, almost like he doesn’t believe what’s happening. You can’t help but wonder if he thinks your boobs look weird. 

“Beautiful.” The words fall out of his mouth in a whisper, as if on cue. He’s really just thinking out loud.

Before you can respond he lowers down and plants a small peck to your sensitive nub before taking it into his mouth. You gasp again, head lolling back in pleasure. One of your hands goes for his hair, while the other clings to his hand that’s already holding yours. He switches between sucking, pulling and squeezing; rolling it between his tongue and uses his teeth to squeeze ever so slightly.

“S–spencer.” A strangled moan falls from your lips. 

You tug his hair, whining and moaning as your hips roll against the strain in his pants. When your motions become continuous, he lets out his own strained groan and is forced to release your nipple with a small ‘pop’. 

“Angel, I really need you to stop doing that.” He murmurs in your ear with a gentle, gravelly tone.

As soon as the nickname reaches your ears your hips involuntarily buck up again, making his hips automatically push down against yours. His cock presses against your core and you both moan, his head falling against your shoulder.

“Spence, more.” You quietly whine in against his ear. “I need more.” 

“More?” He echoes back, turning his head so that your lips brush past each other when speaking. 

“Mhm.” You nod weakly as he brushes a strand of hair out of your face and weakly connects his lips with yours.

Even when he’s got you vulnerable and at your most compromised, he’s still as gentle as ever. You don’t feel him undo your pants or sneak his hand in them, but you definitely feel him press the pads of his fingers against your clothed clit. Air escapes through your nose in a huff of surprise and you hum in his mouth, hips jolting at his touch. He can feel your slickness through your underwear. 

“Oh, my pretty girl.” He sighs, breaking the kiss and directing his whispers in your ear again. “All wet for me?”

“Please..” Even with your broken whimper you beg him for more. 

“Like this?” His deft fingers swipe your panties to the side, fingers landing directly on the clit this time. 

They feel cold at first. The contrast against your heated body makes you squirm and you groan in a soft, high pitch. 

“What are you feeling right now?” He pries a verbal response from you, circling your bud lightly. “Tell me.”

“Good.” You sigh, eyes shut as you try to savour the pleasure. 

“Good?” His voice is still soft against your ear.

“Mhm.” You nod, one arm draping against his shoulder and the other hand running along his scruffy jaw. “So good.” 

“And this?” He adds pressure to his movements. “Does this feel good?”

Your hips buck again and he feels rewarded when you moan. There’s no doubt that the sound of your voice is his favourite. He especially loves it when it’s directed at him. Whether that be in the form of a laugh or your sweet moans. It makes him somewhat dizzy. His lips attach to the skin just under your jaw in an attempt to coax more. 

It’s very effective. Fingers working your bundle of nerves, circling and flicking while changing the pressure, and mouth kissing and sucking near your pulse. It makes your back arch, hand gripping his shoulder so you don’t float away. He’s careful not to leave any purple traces of him on your neck, mindful of you being bombarded with questions from your colleagues.  

“I love how reactive you are, Angel. You sound divine– fuck.” He can’t help the grunt that escapes him. “You are divine.”

His touch alone is enough to make you feel electric, but the sweet nothings he’s whispering in your ear will be what send you over the edge. It’s a foreign feeling, being reminded that he values you for more than just your body. Just under an hour ago you had incredibly high walls built around you and none of them are left standing as you exposed under him.

Spencer’s not the first man to touch you, but he is the first that loves you. It’s something you’re not at all used to and it feels as overwhelming as it does good. It transcends the want, no, the need for the man on top of you beyond lust or love. You plan to show him just how strong that need is tonight. 

The carpeted floor is littered with your clothes, carelessly thrown around and tiny chess pieces scattered around the abandoned chess board. Spencer’s comfortably lying on the couch, facing the ceiling and you’re lying directly on top of him with your face buried in his neck. 

You run your fingers back and forth along his jaw, scratching his beard in slow streaks. He’s enveloped you in his arms, one around your lower back and the other playing with your hair. It doesn’t feel as peaceful as it seems, both of you are afraid of being the first to speak. You know you can’t stay like this forever and you decide to bite the bullet. 

“Spencer?” 

You only get silence from his end. You know he’s awake because his motions in your hair don’t stop. You push yourself up to face him, trying to study his face. The sudden movement brings him back from wherever he was zoned out to. 

“Hm?” His features jump.

Does he regret it?

“What’s wrong?” Your voice shakes from worry. “You have this look on your face.” 

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m just thinking.” 

“About…?” 

“How bad we are at communicating.” He chuckles. “It’s concerning when you think about how all we ever do is talk.” 

Hearing this makes you snort and you fall into him again. It sends both of you into a short fit of laughter. 

“Oh that’s promising for the success of this relationship.” You giggle, sarcasm evident. 

Hearing relationship makes Spencer inhale sharply. 

“So you’re staying?” 

“Well obviously, Dingbat.” You scoff playfully at the question and shift upright, straddling him. “But we really do need to get better at the communication thing for this to work.”

Spencer mounts his weight on his hands by either side of him and pushes himself up to you, stealing a deep kiss. 

“Yes, we absolutely do.” He whispers, breaking away for only a second. 

The kisses fizzle in you a plethora of smaller kisses. 

“Spencer, I’m– serious.” You voice in between, loosely draping your arms on his shoulders. 

“I am too.” He says in a hushed tone as he pulls away. 

“I want to take it– this,” you motion between the two of you with your finger, “us, slow. Not four years slow, but, like, by a couple of months at the very least.”

“Okay.” He agrees, his eyes scouring your face with complete adoration. It’s not ideal, but he understands where you’re coming from. 

“That means that we start again. Romantically. We have to talk about a lot of things first.” 

He shifts his body out from under you, resting his back properly against the couch and pulls you back into his lap in one swift motion. Both of his hands graze from your shoulder to your wrist.

“How about…you come over this weekend,” He suggests, wrapping his arms around your waist for a hug, “we’ll do snacks, a movie, maybe an actual game of chess.” 

“That sounds like a date.” You wrap your arms around his neck to return the gesture and lean your forehead against his. 

“It’s not a date. Not yet, anyways.” He whispers. “I’m asking you to come over this weekend so we can talk about things properly, because frankly, I don’t think either of us is in the right headspace for it right now.” 

“Should I be offended at that?” You giggle, not entirely sure what he’s alluding to. 

“No!” He snorts with a high tone. “Dopamine aside, our Norepinephrine and Serotonin levels are too high right now for us to have a proper conversation about this.” 

“I’m not saying that you’re wrong, because you’re not, but I also think you’re just using science to try and confuse me, so that I agree to wherever this speech is heading.” 

“It’s times like this where your attentiveness puts me at a disadvantage, because this tactic has a hundred percent success rate on everybody else.” He grins and you chuckle, both leaning in for another kiss. 

“Can we hold off on starting over? Just for tonight.” He reluctantly voices, not wanting to push any boundaries. 

You draw back and raise your eyebrows with your eyes widened. 

“Spence, I have waited for years for this. You’re insane if you think I’m giving that up without relishing in it for at least a night. We’re not starting over until we’re both officially back on the clock.” 

“Okay.” He heaves from relief, leaning in for another kiss, but quickly withdraws with a new question. “Don’t you think the team’s going to be suspicious when we’re not fighting tomorrow?”

“Forget them, what am I gonna say to Hotch when I ask to withdraw my resignation?” You huff out a tiny groan. “He’s gonna hate me for all this paperwork.”

Paperwork reminds you why you’re here to begin with. You audibly gasp, jumping off Spencer and scrambling to put your clothes back on. 

“Fuck! Spencer, get dressed!” 

Spencer doesn’t share your panic, but adheres to your demand. You mutter a continuous line of obscenities as you throw on your clothes and when you don’t seem to be getting calmer, he intervenes. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” He coos as he steps towards you, still undressed on the upper-half. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong is that we’ve been here for hours!” You shriek, now fully dressed. 

You push past Spencer and grab his shirt, deciding that he was too slow on his own. He lets you dress him as he probes further. 

“That’s okay. No one’s going to notice this late.” 

“No– Spence–” You sigh, throwing your head back. “In less than four hours, Hotch is going to walk into his office expecting the Anchorage report on his desk. I’ve barely been able to get half of it done in weeks, how am I going to finish it in four hours?”

You shake your head and begin working on his buttons. He grabs your wrists, urging you to look at him. 

“You’ll have it done in less than one. I’ll help you!” His voice is light, airy, soft and accompanied with a chuckle.

“Spencer, you’ve already been here later than you need to be. It’s okay–”

“Let me help you.” He resorts to pleading, releasing your wrists and cupping your face.

You don’t have it in you to argue, his eyes staring back at you with sincerity. He wants to help. There’s no point in pushing him away, because as scared as you are about being too vulnerable with your trauma from that case, you trust him wholeheartedly. You know he won’t push for more than what you choose to share right now.

“Okay.” You nod and smile into the kiss he leans in for after the confirmation. 

“Okay. Now, you go and start some coffee.” he instructs softly with a wide grin, waving to the scattered chess ensemble. “ I’m going to clean up here and join you.”

“I love you!” You lean for another kiss and hushedly exclaim as you break away, receding towards the door. 

It’s Spencer’s turn to lose his breath. He’s affirmed his love for you countless times tonight and this is the first time you’ve verbally reciprocated it. He knows that it won’t be the last time either. That, to him, makes him the luckiest man in the world. He stops you from going any further by your arm and gently yanks you in his direction, crashing his lips with yours. 

“I love you too.” He whispers after the kiss, letting you go. 

Heat rises in your face again and you struggle to hide a huge dopey smile, one that Spencer has too. You’re floating on cloud nine, finally out of the blurry hurricane you’ve endured for months. There’s still a lot of things that you need to work out, but the thought of them doesn’t make you feel dread like it once did. 

"One word frees us of all the weight and pain in life. That word is Love." - Socrates

Spoilers: Yapperoni (so much dialog in this chapter), BAU! Reader, enemies (kinda) to lovers, hurt, comfort, love confessions (they might be a little too sappy, idk, I was sleep deprived), the praise made me giddy at some point, smut but I edge you by not writing out everything, happy ending.

AN - I have a little tiny fear that people (me) will nawt (I don’t) fuck with this monstrosity, but out of all my drafts, this felt like the most natural course of action. I thought it would be really fun to go from friends to enemies to lovers. Now, literally nobody talk to me about writing fics after this. Uni’s started, so I’ll be very inconsistent for a bit. Casual reminder: I am not Spencer Reid. I don’t have an IQ of 187. Any facts I make him spew could very well be bull-shit and he only spews them for the purpose of the story. I also have no knowledge of how the FBI works and lack a ton of common sense. A lot of things were made up for the purpose of this story.

A comment today keeps semicolon away (from showing up to your house and eating all your snacks).

Thank you for reading!

[augustinewrites]

“just leave me alone!” 

megumi storms off towards his room as gojo’s easygoing expression falls away instantly, leaving you conflicted as to who you should check on first. (which is difficult to do when you remember that thirteen year old boys hate talking about their emotions almost as much as twenty-five year old ones do.)

you decide that megumi needs a few minutes to cool down, so you step into the kitchen first, where your fiancé is tearing open a new bag of candy a little more harshly than necessary. you lean your hip against the counter as he murmurs a greeting. 

“what was that about?” you ask. 

“he hates me,” he shrugs. 

“he’s a thirteen year old boy. he hates everybody,” you point out, but it fails to make him laugh like you’d intended. instead, his frown only deepens and he mutters,

“he doesn’t hate you.” 

you tilt your head slightly. “is that what this is about? me being his favourite?”

“i don’t know,” he sighs. “i…i just can’t seem to connect with him the way you’ve always been able to.”

“that’s not true,” you say quickly, unsure of what exactly you can say to make him feel better. it’s not like him to be so insecure. “you guys have had your moments.”

“not lately. i just keep pissing him off,” he huffs, unwrapping and popping a piece of candy into his mouth. “did i do something?” 

you open up the fridge to pull some ingredients for lunch, sighing. “i don’t think so, but nanami, shoko, and i were texting about it the other day—”

“wait, you’re in a group chat with nanami and shoko?”

“oh yeah,” you nod, setting your vegetables on the counter. “it’s mostly memes, but sometimes we talk about how messed up you are.”

he blinks at you a few times before muttering that you’d get back to that later. “what’d they say?” 

“they quoted a lot of freud, but the gist of it was that it’s normal for fathers and sons to butt heads.”

he frowns deeply at that. “so what should i do?”

“be patient. he’ll come around eventually.”

“easy for you to say,” he huffs. “you’re the only mother figure he’s ever known. he’s already had a dad.”

“satoru, he’s thirteen. he’s officially been with us longer than he was with toji.” 

you study his conflicted expression as he turns that information over in his mind. “okay, how about this? i was going to take him to the mall to buy new clothes after lunch, but why don’t you go with him instead?”

“that’s a great idea!” he exclaims, pressing his hands together excitedly. “i’ll take him to the bookstore too! can you find out what’s on his reading list?” 

“he’s not a little kid anymore,” you remind him. “you can’t just buy his affection with a new book.”

“i’ll buy him two, then.” 

“i love where your heart is at,” you start slowly. “but you just…have to give him space to let him come to you.”

he groans loudly, coming up behind you to press his forehead into the crook of your neck. you smile, tilting your head to the side and reaching up to pat his hair. 

“i guess this is good practice for when we have our own kid,” he mutters, stiffening when he feels your hand still in his hair.

“our own kid, huh? so does that mean you’re done bringing home strays?” 

“you three are all i need,” he tells you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “whatever happens next…is just a bonus.” 

BONUS:

[you] [1 attachment]

[nanami] Why is he dressed like Gojo?

[shoko]: like father like son huh

[you] satoru had a quarter-life crisis yesterday. just a small one. 

[shoko] i’m not surprised. his life is like a shakespearean tragedy.

[nanami] That is accurate.

[you] he’s trying to bond with megumi.

[shoko] by dressing him like he’s emotionally unavailable?

[you] what does that even mean?

[shoko] the sunglasses

[you] ?

[nanami] Elaborate further, please.

[shoko] eyes are the windows to the soul. 

[nanami] (the more you know gif)

[perlukafarinn]

Usually when Claire works the closing shift at Rocky's, she and Dean will wind down with a couple of beers at the end of the night. It's a nice little ritual Claire looks forward to every time she comes around, though she'd never admit as much out loud.

Tonight, Dean has mixed up a batch of one of his specialty cocktails - The Queen of Moondoor. It's bright, a sort of red-orange color, and has a sweet and sour taste that makes Claire's jaw ache.

"Do you like it?" Dean asks, like Claire's opinion really matters.

She nods. "It's good."

She's not lying. Dean isn't really a cocktails kind of guy but he's put a lot of effort into every detail of Rocky's. From the various pride flags carefully hung behind the bar, to the salt painted into the windowsills, every inch of the place is meticulously planned out. Rocky's isn't officially a hunter's bar - though it is explicitly a gay bar - but it's become an unofficial gathering place of queer hunters across the continental US.

Even the cocktails on the menu are Dean's own invention. All of them have a backstory, some of which Claire isn't privy to. She knows enough to understand why the Queen of Moondoor is Dean's personal favorite, though.

It also packs a surprising punch. Two drinks in, and Claire already feels herself tilting from tipsy into full-on drunk. She slows down her pace.

"How long are you planning on sticking around now?" Dean asks, because free booze is never just free booze with him. There's always the interrogation. He's almost as much of a mom as Jody is.

"A few days," Claire answers vaguely. "Maybe longer, who knows. I don't have any hunts lined up right now and you pay pretty well."

She knows for a fact he pays her double what he does his other bartenders. Neither one of them ever mentions it, though.

"Weren't you heading back to Jody's?"

Claire shrugs, uncomfortable. She had been, before last night's call with Kaia. They're good most days, even with the strain of Claire being on the road half the time, but sometimes when they talk, they'll hit on a sore topic for one of them and things will get stilted.

The anniversary of Mom's death is coming up in a couple of weeks. Kaia wanted to join Claire for her visit to the cemetery.

"What's on your mind, Strawberry Shortcake?"

Claire is supposed to roll her eyes now. Tell Dean to fuck off and mind his own business.

She doesn't really want to do that. But she doesn't know how to explain to Dean what she's feeling, either.

"It's stupid," she says. "I'm being dramatic."

"You? Never."

Claire scoffs, and Dean's eyes soften.

"You can talk to me, you know."

"Yeah," Claire says, because she does. He gets her, weirdly enough. They get each other. It probably doesn't say great things about either of them. "I just... I feel like I'm making up problems."

Dean takes a sip of his drink. It's difficult to look dignified, drinking out of a straw, and he does not remotely manage it. "Let me be the judge of that."

"Kaia wants-" Claire stops herself, because that's not the point of it. "I - we're good. Me and Kaia. I don't feel ashamed about it."

Dean waits for her continue.

"I'm a lesbian," Claire adds, even though, duh.

"Congrats," Dean says, and it feels like it could be sarcastic but it's not. He means it.

"I don't think -" no, that's not right. "I know my parents wouldn't be okay with that."

The statement lands heavily between them. It feels bitter on Claire's tongue, an ugly truth held at bay for far too long. She feels awful saying it, like she's failing her parents. Speaking ill of the dead. But it's the truth.

Mom and Dad would make these... comments. And Claire remembers each one with perfect clarity, because she's known something was different about her for a very long time. She knew those comments were aimed at her, even if her parents didn't.

They were wonderful parents in every other aspect. Up until they abandoned her, that is. Claire still can't help but feel like she's failing them, sometimes, being who she is.

"They might have changed their minds," Dean offers. "If they'd known. It's different when it's your own kid."

Claire eyes him, curious. "Was it different for your parents?"

Something crosses over Dean's expression, too quickly for Claire to catch it.

"No," he admits after a beat. He runs his hand over his face. "Maybe - Mom might have been fine with it. She didn't know."

Claire swallows. "But your dad did. And it wasn't different."

She feels cruel, pushing the topic. But there's some perverse part of her that needs the confirmation. Dean reminds her of herself, in a lot of ways. He'd say it was the other way around. If he experienced the rejection that Claire feared as a kid, the one that still scares her even if it's purely theoretical now, then that proves something.

"It wasn't," Dean admits. "But Jimmy Novak was no John Winchester."

Claire's chest aches. There's some hollow triumph at the abstract confirmation of her worst fears. Mostly, she just feels like shit.

"For what it's worth," Dean adds, "I think you're perfect. No notes."

Embarrassingly, Claire's lower lip wobbles. She clears her throat, looking off to the side as she tries to regain her composure.

"You think you're my dad or something?" she asks, voice rough.

Dean shrugs, looking embarrassed himself. "I kind of think of you as my kid, yeah. If that's okay."

Claire crosses her arms, feeling warm and aching and off-kilter. "I - yeah. Yeah, that's fine."

[m1ckeyb3rry]

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // SIX

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: Two separate encounters with two different Firebenders yield revelations of the sort you are unprepared to face.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 8.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: i have been writing like crazy recently AHAHA but anyways apologies in advance to anyone expecting anything different from this 😫

“I’m so sad that the break is over. It wasn’t nearly long enough,” Jia-Li said as the two of you returned to your room for the first time since you had left it for Ember Island.

“Our beds look a lot smaller in comparison to the ones on Ember Island,” you said. Jia-Li snorted.

“That’s for sure. And did the room shrink while we were gone?” she said.

“It definitely looks like it,” you said. “At least we don’t have class until tomorrow.”

“Do you think Ty Lee is back yet?” she said. “We should go to the market. It’ll be fun.”

“I should probably do some reading so that I’m ready for tomorrow,” you said.

“Don’t be a spoilsport! I doubt you forgot anything in the short time we were gone, seriously. You’ll be okay if you skip out on reading for one day and come enjoy yourself with the rest of us,” Jia-Li said.

You gave the stack of books on your desk a longing look before nodding firmly, knowing Jia-Li was right, and furthermore that Ty Lee would agree with her. It was just as important for you to socialize as it was for you to study hard, and going to the market wasn’t so time-consuming that it would leave you unable to do anything for the rest of the day.

“Alright, but only if you don’t complain about me reading tonight,” you said. “The book I’m on currently is really interesting.”

“What’s it about?” Jia-Li said.

“The history of Ba Sing Se,” you said. “Since I was found there, I thought that learning more about it might spark some memories in me. All things considered, it’s not as boring as one might expect. The chapter I’m about to start is on the royal family and the construction of the palace.”

“To be honest, I don’t see how you find that so fascinating, but if that’s what you like, then who am I to stop you? Sure, you can leave the candle burning a bit longer in order to finish your chapter if we get back too late,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. “You are the best roommate ever.”

“You flatter me,” she said. “Open up, Ty Lee!”

“What if Kaho is the one at the door?” you said, grabbing her hand to stop her from continuing to bang on it. Jia-Li huffed at you.

“She’s not going to be back until the evening. Don’t you remember how much she was bragging about having to stay late to submit her official reports from the meeting and all of that?” she said. You let go of her hand, for you did remember that. Once freed, Jia-Li continued to knock.

“Coming!” a muffled voice said, and then the door was swinging open to reveal Ty Lee, who was standing on her hands for some reason. “Ursa! Jia-Li! What are you guys doing here?”

“We wanted to ask you if you would come to the market with us,” you said, twisting your neck so that she would come into proper perspective. To your chagrin, it did nothing but make you dizzy, so you gave up and decided to just look down on her upside-down visage.

“Sure!” she said, rocking herself onto her feet and standing properly. “How were your breaks?”

“They were good,” Jia-Li said. “Very relaxing, but way too short.”

“We did see you at one point,” you reminded her. Ty Lee giggled.

“Right, at that stupid party! I heard you guys ended up partaking in the festivities, if you’re catching my meaning,” she said.

“Yes, that’s right,” you said. Jia-Li grinned, flames dancing in her palm before she curled her fist and extinguished them.

“It was fun,” she said. “You were on to something, Ty Lee. It was exactly what we needed.”

“Jia-Li’s brother was not happy with us when he found out,” you said. “But it’s fine. He’ll make up with her, I’m sure, and as for me…it’s fine if we never speak again.”

“Onto the next,” Jia-Li said. “It’s alright. You win some, you lose some.”

“Exactly,” you agreed. “What about you? What were you up to when you weren’t on Ember Island?”

“Strategizing with Azula, mostly,” Ty Lee said. “You know, she killed the Avatar around when Zuko took over Ba Sing Se.”

“Really?” you said. Ty Lee nodded.

“Yup, I saw it myself! He was about to go all glowy-white-eyes on her, and she just shot him with lightning before he could,” she said.

Killing an Avatar as a normal person was unheard of, and Princess Azula wasn’t even a master yet. She was clearly a prodigy, but you knew from Ty Lee that she was still training, though her training was so advanced that it was theoretically impossible for normal Firebenders such as Jia-Li and even Kaho to accomplish. The fact that she had done something as legendary as defeating an Avatar without full mastery of her element spoke to her skill and talents, and you swore then and there to never get on her bad side.

“That’s insane,” Jia-Li said. “I always knew she was on another level from the rest of us, but I didn’t realize until now just how large that skill gap was.”

“Mhm, but for some reason, she’s gotten to be crazy paranoid recently. She’s convinced that he’s not really dead, and she’s been losing sleep over it,” Ty Lee said. “It’s tainting her victory, and she’s been meeting with Mai and I nonstop on what we should do in case he proves to be alive.”

“It’s better to be prepared than not,” you said. “Though she probably doesn’t have much to worry about. If the Avatar was alive, he probably would’ve made himself known, don’t you think? I doubt it would be easy for an Airbender to hide himself, especially not one as powerful as the Avatar surely is.”

“That’s what I’ve been telling her, but she’s still worried,” Ty Lee said. “So my break was mostly work, except for that one weekend on Ember Island.”

“That’s a shame,” Jia-Li said.

“Next break, I’m going to sleep the entire time,” Ty Lee vowed. “Every day I’m at the school serves as a reminder of why I dropped out in the first place, and I need my body and aura to recover from this kind of environment.”

“I always forget you did that,” you said.

“Why’d you come back?” Jia-Li said. “It’s obvious you hate it here, and you have a place in the palace already, so it’s not as though you’re going to climb the ranks socially by attending.”

“Simple! I’m here to keep an eye on Ursa!” Ty Lee said. “Not that she needs it, but Prince Zuko asked me to come along and help her acclimate to the environment of the academy, since we weren’t sure if she’d be able to handle it or not.”

“That’s a lot more logical than you suddenly developing a passion for the scholarly pursuits, which is what I had previously thought was the reasoning,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t think I’ll ever develop that,” Ty Lee said, wrinkling her nose. “I’ll leave the academic stuff to Ursa.”

“Me, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Hey, come on, guys. Reading is fun,” you said, though it was obviously unconvincing, as both of them made faces at you. “Or not, I guess.”

“Let’s stop talking about school, please,” Ty Lee said. “It’s bad enough that we have classes tomorrow. We don’t need to ruin our free time by thinking about them now, too!”

“It’s not a problem for me,” Jia-Li said. “Maybe Ursa will have some difficulty, though.”

“Shut up! No, I won’t!” you said. “You won’t hear me speaking about school for the rest of the outing.”

“Does that include whenever you drop your random little factoids to explain whatever’s going on at any given time?” Jia-Li said.

“Hopefully not,” Ty Lee said. “I’d be way too confused without her narrating everything.”

“True,” Jia-Li said. “Okay, you can talk about those, but no more explicit mentions of the academy. Or of reading. Or of other things along those lines.”

“I already agreed!” you said. “Honestly, you guys have such a low opinion of me. Anyways, do either of you have anything specific to get at the market, or are we just wandering around?”

“Maybe I’ll get a new hair ribbon, but I’m not particularly attached to the idea, so I’m alright no matter where we go,” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t have anything I need, so we can go look at the hair ribbon stalls if you want, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said.

“It’s the same for me,” you said. “Besides, it’s not like I really have money to spend, which means I’ll just admire the different shops, so I have no particular preference for where we go. Lead the way, Jia-Li; you’d know the market best, anyways.”

“Ty Lee probably knows it pretty well, too,” Jia-Li said.

“Nope, I ran away to join the circus, remember? I haven’t been here for a while! Even when I came back to the palace, I was always with Azula and Mai, and they’re not really the type to enjoy walking around the market, so it’s been a bit,” Ty Lee said.

“Then it really is up to me,” Jia-Li said, straightening her shoulders and nodding firmly. “Follow me, girls!”

You and Ty Lee marched after Jia-Li as she strode towards a stall decorated with hair ribbons of every shade. Some were patterned the way Kaho’s was, whereas others were solid-colored, like the one Jia-Li tended to wear. All of them were beautiful, richly made and finely dyed, and you could not help running your fingers over a few of them in appreciation.

“What do you think of this one?” Jia-Li said, holding up a red ribbon that had white flowers embroidered on it. “The one I have right now is so plain.”

“It’s very nice,” you said.

“I like it!” Ty Lee said. “You should get it.”

“Do you think so? Let’s see. How much is this for?” Jia-Li said. As she began to argue with the merchant about the price, you found yourself wandering off, observing the hustle and bustle of the marketplace, the different vendors and their goods, the mothers with their little children rifling through their purses full of gold coins, the serious soldiers standing at attention in uniform — and the not so serious ones with their helmets off and tucked under their arms as they talked to each other. Though the market was so large in scale, it was more like a collection of small, intimate snapshots of domesticity than a grand, epic portrait woven together out of perfectly conjoined parts.

There were so many different stories happening at once. People cried and laughed and argued and bantered on these streets. They lived their lives, unknowing of what would happen to them next or what those at their sides were going through. It was one of those mundane sort of miracles, the sort that were so commonplace that nobody would find them miraculous unless they stepped back and thought about them for a moment.

“Did you hear the news?” someone said to you. You tilted your head at the woman, who had her hand held in front of her mouth politely. “Apparently, there’s a prisoner on the loose!”

“What? In the capital?” you said. She nodded.

“Word has it that he deserted the army during the fall of Ba Sing Se and was promptly captured by Prince Zuko, who sent him to prison. But now he’s escaped! It’s all so frightening,” she said. “Be careful. You’re a student at the academy, aren’t you? My daughter is in her first year there, so I recognized the uniform. You should hurry back to the campus — it’s much safer there.”

“Thank you for the warning,” you said. “I hope you stay safe as well, madam.”

It had been an odd encounter, but for some reason, it wasn’t the random nature of the conversation that made you uneasy. Such things happened at markets, and especially because you apparently went to school with her daughter, it made sense that she had approached you. No, it was the story itself that you were worried about.

The History Mistress had never mentioned anyone deserting the army, besides the former General Iroh. That meant that this escaped prisoner, whoever they were, must’ve been some foot soldier so unimportant that they were not even worthy of the simplest sentence in your lectures, but that begot another question — how had a simple foot soldier escaped a Fire Nation prison?

The haggard man in front of you walked with a limp, and the exposed skin that you could see was littered with scars. Unlike what you would’ve assumed, though, the scars were clearly not from burns. They were cuts, deep lacerations that stood out red and furious against his arms, his neck, his ankles and even his face.

He must’ve been in a terrible battle, but for some reason, no one paid him any mind. The crowds parted around him before melting back together, like he had never been there in the first place. It was only you that followed, you who was entranced, matching his every step with your own. There was some burning desire in you that needed to follow him. You couldn’t place it, couldn’t understand its origin or any part of its existence, but you just knew you had to fulfill it. So you went after the man, growing steadily closer and closer until you could hear what he was muttering to himself.

“Gave everything…fought for that damn prince…what does it get me? Going to kill that girl. Going to kill that girl. What does it get me? Gave everything for that damn prince. Going to kill her. I have to kill her,” he said, over and over, repeating the same phrases on loop.

“Excuse me, sir, but are you alright?” you said when the two of you reached a dead end and the man stood still, facing the wall, continuing to say the same breathless things.

“I knew it,” he said. “I knew someone was following me. We Soldiers of Agni, we know these things.”

“Soldiers of Agni?” you said. The man still did not turn around, pressing his hands against the stone wall and resting his forehead against it. “They’re all dead, sir. They fell during the invasion of Ba Sing Se.”

“And don’t I know it!” the man said. “We gave everything for that prince, and what did it lead us to? Death! Death, you foolish girl, all of my comrades are dead! I’m the only one who survived that wench’s onslaught, but instead of being treated as the hero I am, I was renounced as a traitor. Prince Zuko took my status as a Soldier of Agni away, and he threw me in some dungeon to rot. Tell me how that’s fair!”

“I think you’re confused, sir,” you said, stepping away from him, questioning your own instincts for landing you into this situation. Because this was definitely the prisoner that the woman had been talking about, and since that was the case, you were almost certainly in danger. “Prince Zuko would never do something like that. He is a kind and just person. He even saved me!”

He spun around. “He saved — you!”

Before you knew it, there was a blast of fire heading directly for you. You barely leapt out of the way and readied yourself to fight, but even if the prisoner was telling the truth and he really had once been a Soldier of Agni, his reflexes and musculature had faded during his time locked away. No matter how much he tried, nothing but wisps of smoke escaped his hands, and he shouted in fury before rushing at you.

“What are you doing?” you said as you began to run as well.

“I’m going to kill you!” he said, his voice breaking as he did so. “You took everything from me, so I’m going to kill you!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about!” you said in distress. “I’m just a student at the Royal Fire Academy! I haven’t taken anything from anyone!”

“Is that where you are now, you sly witch?” he spat. “It wasn’t enough for you to destroy us all? You have to infiltrate our nation, too? Get out of here, scum!”

“What are you saying?” you said.

“My comrades are dead because of you,” he said. “I’m in prison because of you. I have to — I have to get justice. If that Agni-damned Prince Zuko really did save you, if he really is just letting you walk around and pretend to be one of us, then the Fire Nation is doomed. I have to do what I must for my country! In the name of Fire Lord Ozai, I will kill you, once and for all!”

“Huh?” you said. “I was a prisoner in Ba Sing Se! I don’t have the faintest clue how I could’ve killed your comrades.”

“That’s rich, coming from you. You don’t have to lie in front of me. I was there, wench. I know what you really are,” he said.

“And what might that be?” you said, skidding to a stop before you crashed into a wall and turning to face him, getting into the hand-to-hand combat stance that you had been trained to adopt at the academy.

“The—” Before he could finish, his eyes widened, and then he was falling over. It was Ty Lee; she had jabbed her fingers into his pressure points in a quick but familiar succession, and now she was standing over him, disapproval etched on her face.

“Ursa! There you are!” Jia-Li said, rounding the corner and almost tripping over the fallen man. “Who is that?”

“He’s an escaped prisoner,” you said. “He claimed he used to be one of the Soldiers of Agni.”

“I thought they were all dead, though?” Jia-Li said.

“They are,” Ty Lee said. “He must’ve been rambling about nothing.”

“Definitely,” Jia-Li said. “What Soldier of Agni would just faint like that for no reason?”

“It wasn’t exactly for no reason. I used my chi-blocking to take him out!” Ty Lee said.

“Chi-blocking?” Jia-Li said as the man groaned, beginning to wake up.

“It’s a pretty useful skill,” Ty Lee said. “All sorts of applications. It can temporarily take away bending, incapacitate people, and more! It’s the way for nonbenders like me to level the playing field and stand a chance even against the strongest of benders.”

“That’s why you aren’t afraid of Kaho!” Jia-Li said.

“Yup!” Ty Lee said.

“Who are you girls?” the man said groggily, pushing himself to his feet.

“I thought you knew who I was?” you said. “You said so yourself!”

“How would he know who you are?” Jia-Li said.

“No idea, but he seemed pretty sure just a second ago,” you said.

“For some reason, I think I do,” the man said. “But I don’t know how or why. There’s just a blank spot in my memories. I can’t — I can’t remember anything.”

“That’s strange,” Jia-Li said.

“He must’ve hit his head when he fell,” Ty Lee said.

“Right,” you said, though when she stooped over to pick the man up and bring him to the nearby soldiers, you narrowed your eyes at her.

You knew that chi-blocking sequence. You knew it well, because Ty Lee had used it on you before, still used it on you even now. You had never questioned it much, never found any merit in doing so. Ty Lee was infamous for being an airhead, so you had always put the strange ritual down as another one of her oddities. But what if it wasn’t? There was no way that the man had hit his head hard enough to forget everything so quickly, especially not when he had been so confident only seconds prior.

The more likely scenario was that Ty Lee had somehow blocked his memories when she had blocked his chi. It made the most sense, but if that really was the case, then what motive did she have to do the same for you? It was uncomfortable thinking about it, but you couldn’t stop the question from reverberating around your mind for the rest of the day.

Was Ty Lee the reason you didn’t remember anything?

That night, when Jia-Li was asleep and you were getting ready to settle in bed yourself, there was a knock on your door. Quickly blowing out the candle and making sure that the door was locked, you leapt into your bed and pulled the covers over your head, squeezing your eyes shut and pretending to be fast asleep.

“Ursa?” It was Ty Lee. “Are you awake?”

You knew what she was there for. It was about the time for her to — if your assumption was correct — block your chi, and possibly your memories. You had never protested, and you didn’t want her to grow suspicious of you in case that led to her taking even more drastic measures, but you also knew you had to avoid her for the time being if you ever wanted to remember who you were.

Just for a couple of days. You only had to stay away from her for a couple of days, and if nothing changed, then you would return to her side and act as if you both were friends once more.

“Are you and Ty Lee fighting?” Jia-Li said the next morning. You were currently suffering from a massive migraine, massaging your temples as you tried to block the light from hitting your eyes, but you managed to shake your head in the negative.

“No, we’re not,” you said. “Why?”

“You didn’t talk to her all morning, and you sat next to me instead of her, the way you usually do. I think she was a little sad about it,” Jia-Li said.

“I just have a really bad headache,” you said.

“Do you need to go to the infirmary?” Jia-Li said. “If you can’t handle class, I’ll tell the Etiquette Mistress. You’re already her favorite pupil, so she shouldn’t mind.”

“No, I’ll go,” you said, knowing that it was of the utmost importance that you didn’t go anywhere alone. It would be an opportunity for Ty Lee to chi-block you again, one you did not need to create, not if you wanted your experiment to be successful. “I’m sure I’ll get over it with something to drink.”

Yet, despite the cups upon cups of water you chugged, it didn’t do anything to dissipate your headache. It was like there was someone pushing on your brow, crushing your head together, the heaviness seeping down behind your eyes and into your jaw. You thought you might be close to implosion, but there was never a moment of relief. The pressure just kept mounting and mounting until you really did wish for someone to take a hammer to your skull and break it open so that you could finally be freed from the pain.

“Ursa, Jia-Li,” Kaho said as you entered the classroom, her voice filled with venom. “I can’t believe you’re daring to show your faces today.”

“Why wouldn’t we?” you said, far too preoccupied with your migraine to temper your irritation with your usual politeness. “We’re students at the academy, the same as you, Kaho.”

“I thought you might be ashamed of yourself after your performance during the break, at Ember Island,” she said.

“What performance?” you said.

“You destroyed my house!” she said. “I know you all did. You and that group of losers from the beach, whoever they were. My brother told me all about it.”

“Your brother’s the biggest fool I’ve ever met,” you said. “Followed closely by Ruon-Jian. Neither of them recognized the prince and princess even when they were right in front of them.”

“Don’t call my brother a fool,” she said.

“It must be a familial trait,” you continued.

“Ursa, what are you doing?” Jia-Li said.

“I have way too much of a headache to deal with her squealing right now,” you said harshly. “Chan is an idiot and we helped destroy her house. It’s true, but it matters little to me, and I wish she’d just go and wallow in her misery somewhere far from where I am!”

“You’re playing with fire,” Jia-Li fretted. “Quite literally.”

“Can you just leave me alone for once, Kaho?” you said.

“You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” Kaho said. “You’ve taken my spot as the top student, and you’re favored by Prince Zuko, so you believe that makes you my superior. But there’s one thing that you’ll never have.”

“And what might that be? An insufferable attitude, or a particularly hideous—” you were cut off by Jia-Li slapping her hand over your mouth.

“She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” Jia-Li apologized. “The migraine is making her delirious.”

Kaho ignored her, staring directly at you, the anger which she was so well-known for blazing to life in her irises. It was the same way she had glared at you after defeating that one underclassman in an Agni Kai. It was the same way she glared at you every time you corrected her in class or got a better result than her on an exam. It was the same way she glared at you whenever you received a letter from Prince Zuko while in the dining hall.

She hated you. You had known this for some time, but you had never understood it until that moment. Kaho despised everything you were, but more than that, she despised that she was jealous of you. She was used to everything going her way, and yet, here you were, a girl who had no memories and no background and no bloodline, taking without difficulty everything that was once hers.

It should never have been yours. To Kaho, you were nobody, a girl from rubble who stole everything from the rightfully deserving. And now here you were, insulting her in front of everyone, clearly rising above the place she had designated for you in her mind. It was an offense of the highest order, and in that instant, you came to the conclusion that you would not escape unpunished. Kaho would no longer allow you to walk over her without retaliation.

“Firebending,” Kaho said. “That’s what I have, and I will always, always be your better, because you can’t even bend.”

“Maybe not,” you said, swallowing and then deciding that if you were already doomed, you might as well have the last word. “It makes it more embarrassing for you, though, doesn’t it? That a nonbender has beat you so thoroughly in everything else? That you can only cling to your bending to maintain your sense of superiority?”

“That’s it,” Kaho said. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“You’ve really done it now, Ursa,” Jia-Li groaned. “Don’t even think of asking me to be your proxy. I don’t have a death wish.”

“I do,” you said. “And I’ll save you the trouble. I challenge you to an Agni Kai, Kaho.”

If an Agni Kai was declared, classes were suspended so that the school could watch. Though they were so brutal in nature, they were actually encouraged by the administration, as they served to weed out the weaker students, leaving behind only the strongest, the best of the best.

At present, the field where you and Kaho were going to fight was utterly cleared, though staff and students alike gathered on the edges to watch the event. It had been anticipated for some time, this clash between the two top students of the academy, even if one of them couldn’t Firebend.

“You’re seriously not even calling a proxy?” Jia-Li said.

“Who would I call?” you said, rolling your shoulders. “She’s beaten every girl at this academy already, and I’m not about to beg the prince to save me.”

“Let go of your pride for once and do exactly that!” Jia-Li said. “You couldn’t even take me in a fight, so you can just forget about facing Kaho.”

“Actually, she can manage,” Ty Lee said grimly. You didn’t know where she had come from, but there she stood, her face set, her posture stiff. “Ursa. I don’t know why he said it, but for some reason, Zuko seemed to think that you were strong. Stronger than the rest of us, in fact.”

“He told me as much,” you said. “I don’t know why he said it, either, but for some reason, I don’t think he was lying. At least, he seemed to really believe it, which means there must be some thought behind it all.”

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a prodigy with weapons on par with Master Piandao himself!” Jia-Li said. “Against someone like Kaho, you either need to be a bender or have unusual skills the way Ty Lee does. Can you claim either of those things?”

“I don’t know, Jia-Li,” you said. “I don’t think so. Yet I have to do this all the same. She’s gone unchecked for far too long.”

“And you’ll be the one to check her?” Jia-Li said, throwing her hands up in the air. “I wish you had just gone to the infirmary like I had told you to!”

“Let’s go, Jia-Li,” Ty Lee said. “It’s time. Good luck, Ursa.”

Another pang. You forced yourself to smile through the pain, not wanting to show weakness right when you were about to get into a fight. Ty Lee smiled back, though Jia-Li did not muster the same energy, wailing despondently about how she was going to lose another roommate as Ty Lee dragged her off the field.

“This is your last chance, Ursa,” Kaho said. “If you fall to your knees and grovel, if you accept your place in this world, and if you renounce your ties with the royal family, then I will spare you.”

“I cannot do either of those things,” you said. “And you cannot ask me to.”

“I will not be gentle,” Kaho warned. “I was kind in my last Agni Kai, so perhaps you think that you will get off in a similarly unharmed way. If that is the case, then I want you to know that you are wrong. I will burn my victory into your skin so deeply that you can never look into the mirror without being reminded of the day you angered the wrong person.”

“My head is already full of pain, nearly to the bursting,” you said. “What is one more wound? Do your worst, Kaho. Even if I lose today, I will still have won in the end.”

“And how is that?” Kaho said. You grinned at her.

“Because I’ve shown everyone else at this academy exactly the sort of person you are,” you said. “You can’t beat a nonbender at anything else, so you have to challenge them to an Agni Kai in order to cling to the last threads of your former glory. You’re really very pathetic, and no matter how thoroughly you burn me, you can’t change that.”

“Did no one ever teach you to hold your tongue?” Kaho said, taking a deep breath, fire flickering at her fingertips.

“Certainly, at some point, someone must have,” you said. “But I shouldn’t know when or who or what the purpose of the lesson was. Don’t you recall that I have no memories?”

No one could say that Kaho wasn’t talented. The way she used her Firebending was like an extension of herself, as brutal and efficient as her clinical personality. It wasn’t that she was incredibly powerful — she just did not waste even a drop of energy, focusing her entire being into her forms, which were done with a clear accuracy that was difficult to dodge.

She punched a lick of fire at you, deadly hot, the air shimmering in the aftermath of it as it dissipated into nothingness, barely avoiding singing the edges of your clothes. You employed every trick you had learnt, for the longer you could draw out the fight, the worse it looked for her.

It was a game that you could not win. It was a game you were destined to lose, but — and maybe this was your past knowledge speaking — you had to play along. The outcome was determined, but you still had to play.

“Why did you come here?” Kaho screamed, her careful control slipping the more times she missed burning you. It was like her words drove a knife through your head, and the only reason your faltering was not a fatal blunder was because she, too, was growing more and more errant in her strikes. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“You’re the one trying to immolate me!” you said, sweat pouring from your brow, your shirt sticking to your collarbones and your pants clinging to your legs. “Why don’t you raise that question to yourself?”

“You!” she said. “Why are you speaking so elegantly? Are you mocking me?”

“Of all the things, you choose to criticize my manner of speaking? Your sense of prioritization is as horrid as your personality,” you said.

More fire. This time, the hem of your shirt did catch alight, but you put it out before it could reach your skin, so it didn’t count as a first burn. It did, however, mean two things: you were getting tired, and Kaho was losing even more of her composure.

“You came here,” she said. “I was alright before! But you came here and decided that everything I had was yours. My place in society, my standing in the school…the happy ending I was born to inherit has all gone to you!”

“Happy ending?” you said. “Do you think I care about something as superficial and fantastical as that? I don’t even have a beginning! Have you ever taken a second thought about your hatred? You can choose the direction of your life, Kaho. Whether happy or sad or anything in between, you know who you are. I do not have such a luxury. You resent my friendship with the prince, but if I do not have him, I have nothing left of my past! I helped destroy your house, yes, but at least you have a house — and it was only one of many. I don’t even have a shack in the woods to call my own!”

“Exactly,” Kaho said. “You should be begging on the streets, yet you are here. But no longer. No longer will I allow you to exist beside me, as if we are equals.”

Your eyes widened as her words sank in. This wasn’t just an Agni Kai anymore. She would not stop once she burnt you. It didn’t matter how completely; you had been wagering that you could eventually heal from whatever she inflicted on you. But, according to Kaho, she was not planning on you ever healing. She was planning on you dying.

Without Kaho’s fire, the air was almost cold. Goosebumps raised on your bare arms, though whether it was from chill or fright, you were not sure. Kaho was incredibly still, her eyes closed as she inhaled deeply, centering herself, drawing strength from the core of her bending — her breath. Everyone else was silent, though you thought you could hear someone, perhaps Jia-Li, repeating a prayer to Agni frantically, begging him to protect you from Kaho’s wrath.

You did no such thing. There was a voice in your head, whispering past the pain, telling you that Agni was not your god. You could not pray to him. You could not pray to a lord of destruction. You could not pray to the deity who had ruined your home.

You did not question this voice, though by all rights it was contrary to the little you knew of yourself. You were a Fire Nation soldier. Agni had not ruined your home, he had saved it. He was the one whose banner you had fought under. He was the one whose name you had been tortured in. He was your patron.

No. He was not. He was Kaho’s. He was Zuko’s. He was Jia-Li’s. But you were not a Firebender. You were something else. What? It was inexplicable, but your bones resonated with that truth as the effects of Ty Lee’s continuous chi-blocking began to crumble, your headache finally alleviating as you had your first breakthrough.

Kaho opened her eyes, and then fire gathered in her palms. You stood your ground this time, rooting yourself into the dirt of the field, and as a wave of fire rolled towards you, destroying everything in its path, you cringed back and screwed your eyelids together but refused to move. This time, you would not move.

Right when the blistering temperature got to be too much, it was cut off, asphyxiated before its source could reach you. Then Kaho was hurling insults at you, calling you a mongrel, a filthy half-breed, a daughter of mud. You cracked your eyes open, wondering why she did not attack you once more, why she had ceased her assault at the instant before she would have won for certain.

There was a large wall of stone erected before you, shielding you from Kaho, impenetrable by even the hottest of fires, which certainly she did not possess. That wall had not been there before, and the names which Kaho was calling you suddenly made sense — because you had created the wall. It was yours.

You were an Earthbender.

Within seconds, every single person that had borne witness to the Agni Kai was slumped over on the ground, including Kaho herself. Ty Lee used her momentum to flip over the wall, dropping to her feet before you and crossing her arms.

“You knew,” you said. “The entire time, you knew.”

“No,” she said. “Not exactly.”

“You’re the one who’s been blocking my memories, though,” you said. “Right? You would block my chi so that I couldn’t remember my past or use my Earthbending.”

“That’s right,” she said, bowing her head. She seemed apologetic, but nothing resembling pity filled you. The only emotion you could muster was disgust.

“Why?” you said. “What could have convinced you to do something like that? I thought we were friends, Ty Lee. Was that all a lie? Were you only staying close to me so that you could keep suppressing my memories?”

“No!” she said. “That was the reason at first, but I like spending time with you, Ursa. You really are one of my friends.”

She reached out as if to embrace you, but you took a step backwards so that she could not. She pulled back as if you had wounded her.

“My name isn’t Ursa, is it?” you said. “Who am I really, Ty Lee? Tell me the truth.”

“I have no idea,” she said. “He didn’t tell me anything about you. He just said it was for the best if you didn’t remember anything. I was so afraid the whole time, I thought Azula might be angry if she found out, but he was always so kind to me when I was younger that I thought I owed him at least this one favor…”

“Who?” you said. “Who is he? Who demanded you keep my memories from me?”

She gave you a miserable look. “Zuko.”

“That liar,” you said. It wasn’t just anger for the specific betrayal; there was some old rage quivering in you. You hated him. You hated him. You couldn’t say why, but you hated him. The ground shook, and Ty Lee glanced around nervously, but you paid her no mind. “He lied to me! He pretended like he cared, but the whole time, he was the one who did it! It’s his fault that I’m like this!”

“Don’t be angry,” Ty Lee pleaded. “I’m sure he had a reason. Just talk to him, and I’m sure he’ll explain!”

“Explain?” you said. “I don’t want to hear his explanations. I want him to pay for what he did!”

Another stake driven into your mind. It was your chi, you presumed, chipping away at the place where your memories were stored. There was still nothing concrete, but a sense of claustrophobia was creeping over you. You weren’t supposed to be here. You were supposed to be somewhere else. You were supposed to be doing something, but Zuko — Zuko had snatched you away from that fate.

“Ursa,” Ty Lee said.

“Stop calling me that,” you said. “It’s not who I am.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to call you,” she said, clearly near tears. “Please calm down for a little bit. I blocked everyone’s chi in time; no one will remember this happened, so take the moment to settle and think things over. There’s no rush.”

“You can’t just do that,” you said. “You can’t keep blocking people’s memories at whim. They’re not yours to play with like that. Anyways, won’t they remember again? Are you really going to go around once a week and block everyone’s chi?”

“I was quick enough, and it was a small enough memory, that just one time will be sufficient,” she said. “No one will know what you’ve done, and I promise I won’t block your memories again if you stay.”

“I can’t trust you,” you said, straining with all your might to drive the stone wall back into the ground. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”

Dust flew up everywhere, but once it cleared, the field looked placid and undisturbed — barring, of course, the scorch marks left in the wake of Kaho’s attacks.

“What are you going to do now?” she said.

“I’m going to my room,” you said. “You can go ahead and tell Zuko I can Earthbend again. I’m sure you’ve been keeping him updated this entire time, so I won’t stop you.”

“He’ll want to come visit you,” Ty Lee said. And, because you did not want her to get in trouble, because despite what she had done there was still fondness for her buried deep within you, you only sighed and then nodded.

“Then he’ll do just that, I’d expect,” you said. “Goodbye, Ty Lee.”

You weren’t sure if she knew what you meant by the farewell. Maybe she did. For her own sake, you hoped she did not, or at least that she pretended that that was the case. She had in the end only been a tool of Zuko’s, so though you did not forgive her, you did not hate her, either.

Perhaps by a stroke of good fortune or perhaps by design, Jia-Li did not return to the room before dinner. This allowed you to collect your meager possessions, shoving them in the bag you had brought with you to Ember Island. Changing out of your uniform, you bit your lip before placing it in the trash. It was beyond salvaging, and besides, your time as Ursa was over. Now, you had to leave behind the life that the prince had created for you and figure out who you were, what your own life was like.

Fastening a cloak over your shoulders and tossing the hood up over your head to further disguise yourself, you slunk through the dormitory, staying in the shadows and hiding whenever people passed. In that manner, you managed to escape detection, reaching the academy’s aviary before anyone noticed you.

“Bian,” you whispered to your messenger hawk. She was instantly awake, cocking her head at you. You shook your own at her in the negative. “I don’t have a letter for you. There’s no one left for me to write to. I just wanted to tell you something: I’m leaving.”

Even if Bian had once been meant to be Prince Zuko’s, you had difficulty thinking of her as anything but yours. She was your friend, yourhawk, and though she was of the Fire Nation, of your time as Ursa, you could not let her go without saying farewell first, the way you would with the rest of it.

“I can’t tell anyone else,” you said. “It’ll just put them in danger. I can’t even say bye to Jia-Li. She’ll think I just ran away for no reason, and she was too loyal of a friend to deserve that, but I cannot implicate her in my defection from the academy. She’ll be the first they question, and I don’t know that she’ll lie convincingly enough to escape suspicion. So, then, when she says she has no idea where I’ve gone, she has to be telling the truth.”

Bian cooed at you; well, maybe calling the throaty sound cooing was being generous, but there was no other way to describe it, and the sentiment was the same. She was trying, in her own way, to comfort you, and you extended your arms to her perch so that you could rub the soft, tiny feathers of her cheeks.

“Thank you for being my hawk,” you said. “Be good for whoever owns you next — unless it is the prince, in which case I give you full permission to bite his fingers whenever he tries to give you letters.”

With that, you turned around, your hands dropping to your sides as you walked, then ran out of the aviary. If you turned around, you would cry. If you turned around, you might not ever be able to leave, so you sprinted until you reached the stables where the various animals belonging to the academy were kept.

Passing by the sleeping dragon moose and the corral of komodo rhinos, you ducked into the stall of one of the mongoose lizards. Throwing its saddle on, you patted it on the forehead.

“I’m sorry,” you said, swinging on and kicking it forwards. “I promise you can go home once you get me out of the capital.”

The mongoose lizard was fast, but more than that, it was stealthy and could traverse many kinds of terrain. Scuttling through the campus, it climbed the walls at your direction, though it was obviously unsure, as it had been trained not to leave the academy, even when given the opportunity.

Looking up, you saw a shadow cover the moon briefly, and you furrowed your brow as the dark shape came hurtling down towards you. The mongoose lizard continued to dash through the streets of the capital, and you used your hands to shield your face from the incoming projectile.

You needn’t have. At the last moment, it flared its wings, landing gently on your shoulder, careful not to dig its talons into your flesh despite the subsequent loss of balance.

“Bian?” you said. She nipped your shirt collar like she was chiding you for daring to leave without her. You laughed in relief, scratching her crest. “Oh, my dear Bian. I should never have tried to go without you. Thank you for finding me.”

She hopped off your shoulder, sitting on the pommel of the saddle, surveying the terrain with the regal bearing of a figurehead. With her at your side, you weren’t quite as lonely, and though it was selfish of you, you were glad that she had made such a choice, that she loved you enough to follow you away from the comfort of the aviary.

You traveled for a while at top speed, but once the mongoose lizard began to show signs of fatigue, you reined it to a stop. Whistling for Bian, you slid off of the beast. It made a clicking noise at you, and you smiled at it.

“Thank you,” you said. “You have done your job well. You may go back now.”

Without hesitation, the mongoose lizard spun and headed in the same direction it had come from. You didn’t wait, either; the palace certainly had methods to track you, so it would be a folly for you to stay in the same place for too long.

When the search began depended on Jia-Li. If she reported your disappearance immediately, then you were in trouble, but you sensed she would not. You had a habit of coming back to the room later than her, so she’d likely not realize you were gone at all until she woke up and saw your bed had remained undisturbed the entire night.

That left you with a window of time in which you could eat and sleep. After that, you had to walk to the nearest village and appropriate a new mount that could get you even farther from the academy and the capital and Prince Zuko’s grasp.

“It’s just so strange,” you said to Bian as you made a small fire using kindling, the way you had been taught in the academy. “If I’m an Earthbender instead of a former Fire Nation soldier, then there really is no explanation for any of it. Why did he abduct me? Why did he order my memories to be subdued? What significance did I hold?”

If she knew anything about the heart or mind of her former master, she did not reveal it. Rummaging around in your bag for the bit of food you had scrounged up while packing, you chewed on it pensively before pulling out the book you had been reading.

Opening to the page you had left off on, you promised to only finish the chapter on the royal family before you went to sleep. Maybe it was foolish to sacrifice any of the precious little rest you could get, but you longed for something to soothe your mind, and you thought that reading, as a familiar habit, might accomplish that goal.

The last ruler of the Earth Kingdom was the 52nd Earth King, born Kuei. He is famous only for his ineptitude. Ascending the throne at the age of four, he was a puppet monarch for much of his life, until the day he was deposed of by Prince Zuko and the Fire Nation forces. 

For some strange reason, there was a lump in your throat reading about the 52nd Earth King, as if he was someone that you greatly missed. But that was not even the oddest thing — it was the next passage that made you truly gasp. Memories upon memories poured in as you read and reread the paragraph, which was more of a footnote than anything.

The 52nd Earth King also had a younger sister, though no one ever saw her. A nonbender like the king, Princess Y/N remained shut away in the palace her entire life, reputedly for her own protection. Because of her fragile and essentially invisible status, her own subjects mockingly referred to her as the Glass Princess.

She, along with her brother, was killed during the fall of Ba Sing Se.

[chocolatetittymilk]

someone writing for the arcana in 2024 !!!! you're my saviour <3 could i get asra with a super clingy reader? like just absolutely hanging off of him like a cat. gn reader is fine, tysm !! i also love ur blog theme, so pretty :(

hi hun! tysm for the sweet compliments and the request, you seem like a sweetheart <3 i honestly worked so hard on my theme and im still yet to be done with it ahhh

I haven’t written for asra for a hot minute but I will try my hardest to deliver! hope you like !!

This will take place after the good ending with Asra’s route! So spoilers for those who haven’t finished his route :)

Asra adored you. Even before what had happened at the… Lazaret… Asra has always had a special part of his heart and head space just for you.

And after all that had happened between the two of you, (like you finding out what has actually happened to yourself, the plague, Count Lucio- you get the idea) something inside you changed.

You felt separated from Asra, like you had burdened him with firstly dying, and then being in catatonic states when he tried to have you remember your past memories…

It was like you had finally realized you missed him - been yearning for him. And that’s when the clinginess started.

“Asra where are you going?”

You have been following him around like a lost puppy since this morning. Like every morning.

“The marketplace.. better get your shoes on if you wanna come with, pretty.” Asra always knows that you’ll tag along with him, everywhere and anywhere. Already grabbing a basket to put goods inside.

Eyes darting around, a blush forming at the nickname rolling off his tongue. You hurriedly grab your shoes and plop down near Asra to put them on. Always near Asra.

Outside in the market was one of your favorite places due to the fact you can hold and cling to Asra without any excuse.

He wouldn’t want you getting lost, right?

“Make sure to not let go, okay love?”

Asra wouldn’t even need to tell you to hold his hand or arm, the moment you’re out the door you’re looking up at him holding onto him as you walk. Looking at him like he held the world in the palm of his hand.

He always thought you were a sweet little thing - always wanting him. You were so oblivious to it too: so wrapped up in being around him and on him to see it.

The red tint on his neck, cheeks and ears when you cling to him. His heart fastening with how close you always are to him.

Even when things are official between the two of you, he just couldn’t help himself.

Your head on his arm when you’d stop at a fruit stand, arm tightened with his when walking through alleys. Whispering in his ear about a particular item you’d forgotten to get, just to tease him a little. Sitting on his lap when sitting for lunch at a particular restaurant.

His face would be on fire when you’d try feeding him his food, slightly embarrassed but also happy at the adoration you held for him.

The locals at this point were already used to Asra’s lover always on him, it was usual. In fact, they’d come up and ask if something was wrong if they weren’t around him at all.

It was like you had to be constantly touching him. And he did not complain one bit.

.

Usually once you both had gotten back home, you’d close the shop and he’d read a book. And this would be your opportunity to be close to him for a longer period of time.

Laying on your shared bed, Asra would specifically make room between his legs just for you. Knowing full well that you’d be on him any second now.

Laying in between his legs, head on his chest: it felt like home. Drawing patterns on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your ear. Faust curled up next to you, asleep soundly while Asra flips his page every few minutes. ‘Yeah, this was home.’

“Asra…” you whisper after a few seconds, he peeks his head down at you - not taking his eyes off you for one second. “Yes pretty?”

You pause for a sec and tighten your arms around him. “Thank you.” You put simply, closing your eyes into his chest.

You can hear him put down his book slightly, “And what would you be thanking me for, hm?”

“For being with me… giving me another chance… for everything.” You mumbled, holding him a bit tighter. Not that you were scared that he’d go away or judge you, but rather just needing him closer.

Asra’s eyes softened, his heart racing just a little. ‘Oh you have no idea what I’d do for you..’

“Love.. you don’t have to thank me.” He took your hands softly, rubbing them comfortingly. “You’re never a burden… I want you always beside me, always near me.” He smiled, adoration poured into his eyes. Asra bends down to kiss your head.

“I love you, pretty.”

A blush crept its way to your face. You smiled up at him, squeezing his hand.

“I love you too, my magician.”

my arcana masterlist: the arcana m!list

2024 © chocolatetittymilk : do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site.

Hope you enjoyed, honestly was so fun writing this <3

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part VIII

Hello again, part viii is finally out. One last chapter left of this series. I hope it’s been enjoyable so far. This one is a bit short, but don’t worry. The next part will be longer. Tomorrow will officially be the last update. I hope you all return for the next series I write. You know the drill, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Poly!Ghostface x reader, NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII  Part IX

Word Count: 954

You stumbled on your feet a little as you walked downstairs, in a daze as Stu set you onto the counter. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before heading outside to help Billy with Colton, you grimaced as you saw him and looked away. “Awe come on sweetheart, I saw the photos you had of Casey and Steve in your room,” Billy said with a chuckle, “It’s different in real life, huh? After they die though, it’s kinda the same as seeing it online or in photos. They don’t look real anymore,” he said as you shook your head, “my side hurts,” you said as you looked to them.

Stu was quick to look over your wounds, glaring at Billy and punching his shoulder. “You hit deep, fuckrag,” he said as you whimpered. “Come on sweetie, you’re strong, you can last a little longer, right?” Stu said as he cupped your cheek, your eyes began to well with tears again as you nodded. “Yeah, I can,” you said with a sniffle. Billy was by your side now, kissing you and apologizing over and over as he patched you up. “Come on, little bunny, we gotta get ready now, Tate’s gonna be here soon,” he said as he kissed your cheek and helped you off the counter.

You were sat on the floor of Stu’s kitchen, feeling a jab at your shoulder and blinking in surprise when you saw Dewey hovering above you. “Hey kid,” he said, tears in his eyes as he looked at you. “Dewey,” you said softly, sniffling and letting out a little yelp as he picked you up. “You’re pretty good with a sewing kit by the looks of it,” he said as he looked to the first aid kit next to you. “Oh, yeah, my mom taught me…” you mumbled out, squinting when you saw the daylight. You didn’t remember what time last night you had fallen asleep. You remember Tatum coming back to the house, after the boys dealt with her you remember being in the back of Stu’s car. Stu stayed with you until Billy gave him his queue, after that, things got a little blurry. You remember them hyping each other up about something and their groans, you remember the blood on the kitchen floor of…Stu’s house. After that you remember one of the boys trying to stitch up the wound they gave you, to make it more believable they said. You couldn’t remember which one of them it was, at that point you had began to get a little dizzy.

“Stu…Billy… Where? Are they okay?” You asked as Dewey looked to you. “We’re still taking a look around the house. We’ll let you know if we find them, okay?” He said as he brought you to the ambulance, setting you down for the EMS to check on you. As the minutes passed you saw gurneys with black bags being hauled out, Dewey walking to his patrol car and crying, but eventually you saw Stu on a gurney. Your heart fluttered knowing he was okay, you looked to the paramedic and asked if you could go check on him, thanking them and slowly walking over, being mindful of your injuries. “Stu,” you called out, the older boy looking at you and smiling. “Hey,” he said as he reached for your hand. A moment later you saw Billy, feeling relieved knowing both of them were okay.

You rubbed at your eyes as a few tears fell, feeling everything from the last few hours hitting you like a ton of bricks. You could hear voices in the background, looking up when you heard your parents calling your name. You groaned as they ran to hug you, Stu’s hand slipping from your grip. “I’m okay, really, it’s just a scratch,” you tried to play off, receiving even stronger hugs and more kisses from them.

You noticed a few officers making their way towards you and Stu, both gladly giving them the same story of what happened that night.

All about how ghostface tried to attack you on the porch, how the three of you did your best to get out before learning it was mr prescott behind the mask. How he was going berserk because of the anniversary of Maureen. After he thought he wounded the three of you he left in Stu’s car, meanwhile the three of you were left wounded and exhausted.

It wasn’t long until you could hear the shuttering of cameras and announcements in stuck up news reporter voices not too far. The paramedics treated you, but with the prices of ambulances your parents opted to drive you to the hospital themselves. You looked to your side as you walked to your parents car, seeing Gale Weathers and her henchman with the camera. You frowned, shooting your middle finger at them before climbing into the car. You looked out the window, smiling as you saw the boys parents taking them back into their cars and away from the crime scene.

You were happy to know they were okay, to know they were getting their big dream of being directors of their own movie, to know you all could finally be together. Although you hated the way the girls were left, you couldn’t deny the little twinge of jealousy from last night. They had Billy and Stu all to themselves for so long, when the boys revealed themselves to you, you felt jealous to know Tatum and Sidney had been with them. Despite the small amount of sadness you had now that they were dead, you felt a bit of happiness knowing they were gone and you could have the boys to yourself now instead.

[lightvixxen]

A shy boy with a dom side

SOOO i have no excuse. this may be a little series, we'll see how this does.

Warnings: SMUT its nothing extreme so I don't feel there's any warnings. AFAB reader tho, + dom!spencer!! MDNI

wc:1k-ish

summary: a Friday night taking a turn.

It was a Friday night, and you and Spencer had a few glasses of wine. And Now sat on your couch. You don’t remember how the conversation got to this point. 

“Whats…” You stop to think, swirling the glass in your hands before speaking again. “your biggest kink?” Spencer looks at you, then looks off to the side, obviously thinking about the question. 

“I’m not sure…bondage most likely,” Spencer tells you, shrugging before taking a sip of his wine. “But choking and, uh, slapping is up there too.” His face was red, and whether it was from the conversation or wine you couldn’t tell. 

“Huh, I was expecting you to say something a little more Vanilla honestly,” you say, setting your wine glass down on the coffee table in front of you. “Isn’t the bondage a little cliche though? I mean guy with handcuffs likes using them, the biggest stereotype in the book.” 

“Oh, I um.” He clears his throat, “I wasn’t talking about…handcuffs, I was talking about actual rope.” That made you raise your eyebrows. 

“So….are you the one being tied up or are you doing the tying.” You ask, your curiosity was officially peaked, you honestly had thought Spencer was going to say something like praise being his biggest kink. 

“Well considering I am a dominant, I do the tying up. I much prefer it anyway. It gives me a level of control they no longer have.” He said it so softly you almost missed it. “Anyway, back to you, what's your biggest…fantasy?” He asks, obviously trying to turn the attention away from himself. 

“Fantasy? Not kink?” You ask, a little stunned. 

“That's what I said.” 

“Well, it starts just like this…Though the person varies…” You start, trying to form this specific fantasy into words. Spencer nods along, watching how your face slowly turns red, and how you avoid eye contact. 

“And well they get up, maybe circle me for a second while we talk, of course, I’m oblivious to it. They slowly make their way behind me, and wrap their hand around my throat…and hands slowly wander…” 

You didn’t even notice he had gotten up. Before you feel the couch dip behind you and his breath on your neck. Spencer's hand slowly wraps around your throat, giving you enough time to stop him. 

“Like this?” his voice was low, it caused the hair on your neck to stand. You were almost frozen. 

“Do I have your permission to… continue?” You nod slowly, not trusting your voice at the moment. “Words sweetheart.” He demands, “I need verbal consent.” 

“Yes, you can continue.” You almost gasped when the hand not around your throat connected with your breast. His fingers expertly play with your hardening nipples through your tank top. 

“Good girl. Now, what else happens in this little fantasy of yours? Hm?” he asks, the grip he has on your throat expertly tightens, this isn’t the first time he’s done this. 

“T-they play with my breasts for a little…while also kissing down my shoulders and- oh my god.” A small moan leaves you, everything you describe Spencer does. His mouth is warm against your neck, unexpectedly he sucks a mark into your neck. 

“Keep going.” He tells you. 

“And then after a while their hands move down…” Again, he complies, his hand on your breasts moving downwards, messing with the elastic of your shorts. “They usually rub…me through my panties but-” before you could get another word out, Spencer's hand delved into your shorts.

“No panties? Surprising…knew a man was coming over and yet you go commando? Planning to flash me, my dear?” 

“N-no I just didn’t feel like it today.” your breath was shaky already. 

“Alright…Sorry sweetheart but since you can’t stick to your narrative we’re doing this my way. Okay?” he asks, his hand on your throat grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him.  

You nod, luckily this time he didn’t need you to verbalize what you needed. Spencer's hands made direct contact with your clit. His fingers slowly traced circles against it. You gasp, your hips automatically bucking against his hand. 

“You this wet already? I’ve barely done anything…” you could hear the smirk in his voice, one of his fingers slowly tracing around your wet hole, before it sinks into you. A sinful squelch sound can be heard. 

Spencer sets a fast pace, he quickly finds that spongey spot inside you, and with terrifying precision targets it. He quickly brings you to the edge, your moans grow louder as each second passes. 

“Fuck-I’m close Spence-” you moan, grabbing his arm, you have no intention of stopping him, but it just feels too good. 

“You got it, cum for me, sweet girl.” He tells you, keeping the pace of his fingers. 

“Choke me again please!” you beg, Spencer chuckles but complies, his other hand tightening against your throat once again. With one squeeze you were coming undone. 

“Shit, shit I’m cumming.” you moan, your walls clenching around his fingers. Your legs clamp shut around his hand, he smiles behind you. His fingers continue to work against you until you wince in overstimulation. 

Your legs relax, spreading to let him retrieve his hand from the apex of your thighs. Spencer brings his hand up to his mouth, licking off his fingers. 

“For a germaphobe, you’re quite gross” You pant, head lolling back to look at the man behind you. He chuckles, walking into your kitchen to retrieve a damp cloth. 

“And for a profiler, you're not very observant.” He shoots back, walking towards your front, he kneels, gently removing your shorts to clean your thighs. 

“Well-” you’re retort was cut short when Spencer licked a stripe up your cunt, swirling his tongue around your already sensitive clit. 

“Careful how you talk to me. I have no restraints about fucking you over this couch.” He tells you, blowing against your clit before finally cleaning up your thighs. 

“Why not just do it now?” you ask, curious as to why he’s decided to stop here. 

“I don’t have any condoms, But I won’t hesitate to take you here and now if you even think a bratty retort.” He tells you simply. 

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 16, Unaccompanied - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Vomiting 🤮

Word Count: 1k

Previously On...: Jade's been trying to get into your head about Bucky, but he assured you she was just trying to cause trouble between the two of you.

A/N: We are officially half way through the story, lovelies! I'm so happy to be on this journey with all of you! NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when I update, please enable notifications from my Blog page!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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The day you and Bucky were scheduled to leave for Moscow, you went to the dining room to say your goodbyes before boarding the Quinjet. The team was gathered around the large dining table when you walked in, plates of Thai food spread across the space. 

“You ordered Thai?” you moaned. “Knowing that I’m about to spend hours in a tin can, stuck eating MREs for who knows how long, risking my life for truth, justice, and freedom, and you order Thai just as I’m leaving? I thought you were my friends! My family! Do I mean nothing to the lot of you?!”

“Relax, drama queen,” Nat said. “I’ll fix you a to-go container.”

“Thank you, Natasha,” you said. “You are a true friend.” You glared around the room at everyone else, pointing an accusing finger. “The rest of you, however… I will remember this.”

Bucky wrapped an arm around you and squeezed your shoulders. “Maybe we can make a detour in Thailand and get it straight from the source, doll,” he said with a laugh.

“I like your way of thinking, Barnes,” you said. Natasha handed you the to-go container and you did a little happy dance. “Thank you, Natty!” you squealed, opening up the container to take a sniff of the deliciousness contained within. 

As soon as the scent of Khao Soi hit your nostrils, you were overcome with a wave of nausea. “Oh my God,” you groaned, shoving the container into Bucky’s arms and throwing your hands over your mouth. You sprinted toward the nearest bathroom and barely made it to the toilet before you were vomiting into the bowl.

As you heaved, you felt a cool, metal hand pull your hair away from your face and a warm flesh hand rubbing circles on your back. “You okay, doll?” Bucky asked, his voice full of concern as you heaved up the contents of your stomach. 

“I think there’s something wrong with that Khao Soi,” you told him once your stomach muscles had stopped spasming. “Maybe the coconut was bad?”

Bucky grabbed a few squares of toilet paper and gently wiped at the sides of your mouth. “Gotta say, it smelled all right to me.” He placed a palm to your forehead. “You’re feeling a little warm. You sure you’re not comin’ down with something?”

“Maybe,” you said, giving it some thought. “I have been feeling really tired lately.” 

“If you’re sick, you know can’t I can’t let you go on this mission,” Steve’s voice came from where he was standing in the doorway. “It’s a liability.”

This was the first time Steve had spoken to you in ages, and you couldn’t help but wonder if it had something to do with the fact that you and Bucky weren’t technically in a relationship anymore. 

“I’m fine, Steve,” you said, but before you could further protest in favor of your good health, another wave of nausea overtook you and you were once again vomiting into the toilet bowl. 

“It’s alright, baby,” Bucky said. “I can do the mission solo. It’s more important for you to rest and get better.”

You nodded, feeling miserable and completely drained now. “Will you help me back to my room, Buck?”

“Of course, sweets.” You flushed the toilet and Bucky helped you stand up. In an instant, he’d scooped you up, carrying you, bridal-style, back down to your room. He deposited you gently on the edge of the tub in your bathroom and poured you a cup of water.

“Here, rinse your mouth,” he said, offering you the glass, and you accepted gratefully. You swished the liquid through your mouth, rinsing away the acidic taste of bile before you spat the water out in the sink. While you were doing that, Bucky brought you a change of clothes, helping you out of your tac-suit and into one of his tee shirts and a pair of pajama pants. 

“Better?” he asked as he tucked you into your bed. 

You nodded, burrowing down into your scarlet comforter. Wanda had been right– it had been permanent, and it was now your favorite bedding. “Thanks, Buck,” you murmured. “I’m sorry we won’t be going on the mission together. I was really looking forward to it.”

“Me, too.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “But you’ve got nothing to apologize for. I just want you gettin’ better.” You smiled at him as he grabbed your hand and kissed it. “I hate leaving you like this.”

You laughed. “It’s just a stomach bug, Buck,” you said, squeezing his hand in return. “I’ll be right as rain when you get back, promise. But you better go before Steve comes banging the door down for you.”

“Is there anything I can get you before I go?” he asked, brows furrowed with worry. “I could make you some tea.”

“No,” you stifled a yawn. “But thank you. I’m wiped; I think I’m just going to take a nap. Puking is exhausting. We gonna do our calls?” you asked him. Each time one of you was away on a mission, you would call the other once a day, a kind of proof-of-life to ensure to the other you were safe. If a call wasn’t possible, you’d make sure to at least send a text, never wanting the other to worry more than necessary.

“Of course,” he said. He leaned down to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“Buck,” you whined, “I just threw up. You don’t want to kiss me right now.”

“Always wanna kiss you, Pocket,” he said, leaning in again. This time you let him, though you kept it from getting too deep. Yes, you knew you were blurring the lines of the new parameters you had set up for your relationship, but successful missions were never something to be taken for granted, so you would never pass up the opportunity for what could possibly be a last kiss.

“Alright, Barnes,” you said when the kiss broke, “get outta here before Steve comes in and drags your ass out.”

With a final wave, Bucky departed, leaving you alone to drift off, the discomfort in your stomach temporarily forgotten.

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[stellar-constellations]

Star Patient: Chapter 3 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), and possibly more.

Inaccurate canon-timeline (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 8,650 words (a big chapter since the next chapter will take some time to complete).

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

Andrew’s brain surgery to drain the excessive blood was a success! Andrew felt loopy from all the twilight anesthesia they injected into him so he was asleep during the surgery, but he’s no longer suffering from double-vision, maybe soon he can start remembering things again.

        Andrew locked his wheelchair in place and refused to move from the hallway. He was dead set on waiting for (Y/N). Any nurse or doctor that tried to come near him to bring him back to his room (or get him out of the way) would be slapped away and assaulted with the most vile curse words that would make a nun have a heart attack. Whenever Andrew heard footsteps coming, he’d look over, eyes sparkling in excitement, before dropping once noticing it wasn’t in fact (Y/N).

        Another set of footsteps could be heard walking down the hallway. Andrew looked over and resisted the urge to smile or seem excited that she came.

        “Hi, Andrew! Sorry I’m late. I was watching the infants until the NNP came back.” (Y/N) explained.

        God, he loved how she said his name. Did it have to do with how damn cute she was, or was her voice really just that enchanting?

        “How do you feel? Tired? Dizzy? Loopy? Hungry? Thirsty?” she questioned, bombarding him with questions.

        “Mm.” Andrew shrugged his shoulders, resisting the urge to wince, but failing.

        “Oh, does your head hurt?" (Y/N) questioned. "Oh, well obviously it must! You had surgery!” she commented, realizing how stupid her question was.

        “It just hurts a bit…” Andrew muttered.

        “Let’s get you back to your room, then I’ll give you some painkillers.” She spoke.

        Andrew unlocked his wheelchair and started rolling away without (Y/N)’s help, stopping in front of her with a pointed stare glare as if to say “are we leaving yet?”

        “Oh! You got the hang of it. Good job, Andrew!” (Y/N) praised, causing him to advert his eyes and huff.

        “It’s not a big deal… It's a pretty easy thing to learn.” Andrew explained, ignoring how his heartbeat increased.

        “Aw, don’t be like that. You did it all on your own in only a few minutes, and you learned how to turn the wheel! That’s impressive!” (Y/N) smiled, only causing Andrew’s face to get more red.

        “Are you done?” Andrew huffed.

        “Okay, okay. Let’s get going.” She chuckled. “Follow me.” 

        Andrew didn’t exactly trust her sense of direction, especially considering earlier’s wild goose chase, but Andrew didn’t mind getting lost with her—it meant he got to spend a little extra time with her.

        “Before we go to your room, do you mind if I make a quick stop to a friend?” she questioned as they entered the elevator together.

        A friend? Andrew thought, a sore and red hot bubble starting to simmer in his chest. Who the hell is it?

        “Her name is Hailey. She has cancer so please be nice to her. She doesn’t have many visitors anymore so maybe you two could be friends!” (Y/N) cheered, excited at the possibility of the two of them getting along as she pressed the second floor button.

        At least it’s a girl. Andrew thought, the bubble of jealousy losing its fire-like temperature, but still having a bit of flame to it. 

        They exited the elevator when the doors opened and strolled down the hallway, (Y/N) stopping at a door and knocking on it.

        “Come in.” A girl, Hailey, spoke.

        She opened the door, keeping it open for Andrew to wheel his way in before she shut the door behind them.

        “Hey, Hails. I have a friend of mine I’d like you to meet. He might have a grumpy face, but he’s nice when you get to know him.” (Y/N) teased.

        Andrew shot her an unimpressed glare as he looked at her, before redirecting his attention to Hailey.

        “Hi…” he muttered, not quite interested in the conversation.

        “Hello…” she whispered shyly.

        With how long it’s been since she’s socialized with anyone except the nurses, she’s most likely insecure of her appearance. This is a good opportunity for her to re-learn how to make friends and have confidence, and now Andrew has someone he can visit and talk to when I’m off of work. She thought to herself.

        “Andrew, this is Hailey. Hailey, this is Andrew. I hope you both can be good friends.” (Y/N) introduced, a smile on her face. 

        Fat chance. Andrew thought, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

        They both stared at each other awkwardly before (Y/N) spoke up.

        “So, Hailey. How is the book so far?” she questioned.

        “I’m interested in it. I don’t understand why Nora wants to die though.” Hailey spoke.

        “Oh, I see.” She nodded. “This is one of my favorite books to recommend. After reading it, it really makes you look at life in a different perspective. Nora wants to die because she lacks happiness, or fulfillment, in her life. She hasn’t found a motive in her life to carry on because she’s so caught up in her own burdens and feelings.”

        “But why is she sad? She gets to go outside and live.” Hailey questioned, genuinely confused.

        Nora has what Hailey doesn’t, and Nora’s taking it for granted. (Y/N) thought to herself, understanding what Hailey means.

        “Do you want a simple definition or the long one? Like, science or no science.” (Y/N) questioned, taking a seat on Hailey's bedside Andrew silently huffing and glaring as she did so.

        “No science.” Hailey smiled.

        Hailey prefers subjects that are sugarcoated, they’re much easier to understand. She is ten, so (Y/N) supposes that's understandable.

        “Well, Nora is missing something in her life, but she doesn’t know what it is yet. Everyone is made differently. She is sad because she doesn't have anymore passions in her life because she never stuck to pursuing them, and she felt like she couldn’t confide in anyone.” (Y/N) explained. "Humans are social creatures, we need communication and care from others in order to functional normally. Nora doesn't have that, or at least, she has very little of it."

        “So Nora wants to die because she doesn’t know what she’s missing and she's alone?” Hailey questioned.

        “In a way, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded. “Because she’s so sad, she’s not even trying to live the life she was given. When people are as sad as Nora, they don’t eat or shower or take care of themselves because it all feels meaningless.” 

        Why does that sound familiar? Andrew thought to himself. 

        “I understand now.” Hailey nodded.

        “Andrew, do you like books?” (Y/N)questioned, the two girls directing their attention towards him.

        “I’m not too sure. I don’t read much.” Andrew answered.

        “Maybe you just haven't found a good book yet. What genre movies do you like?" (Y/N0 questioned.

        Movies? He just watched whatever was on the TV when he was locked in that apartment, but he was so hungry that he didn't have the willpower to actually focus on what was on the screen half the time. 

        "I don't know... anything really..." Andrew mumbled.

        "Let's find a book genre you like! We'll start with Hailey." (Y/N) smiled. "Hailey, do you have any suggestions for him to read?" 

        "Maybe... The Outsiders?" Hailey suggested at a moment of thought, a bit hesitant but starting to warm up just slightly with the new presence in the room.

        But what about your special pick for me you said you'd give? Andrew complained inside his head.

        "The S.E. Hinton one?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "Yes." Hailey smiled.

        "Oh, that's a good one. My favorite character was Sodapop." (Y/N) commented.

        "I liked Darry. He was smart and cool." Hailey chimed in.        

        "What about the book you wanted to show me earlier? The one specifically picked out for me for when I get out of surgery?" Andrew questioned, not exactly caring if it sounded rude to reject Hailey's suggestion.

        "Oh! Yeah. The book is called Eye of the Minds by James Dasher. He made the Maze Runner series if you had seen the movies." (Y/N) explained. "It's a sci-fi. I figured we could give that a try and see if you enjoyed it." 

        "I remembered when you showed me that book! The main protagonist was funny." Hailey commented.

        Andrew briefly wondered how long these two spent together everyday. The more he thought about it, the more he started to get jealous again. By now his headache was subsiding while his anger just grew.

        I never thought I'd be jealous at a little kid... he thought to himself. ...Why even am I jealous? 

        "(Y/N)..." Andrew sighed, succeeding in gaining the nurse's attention. "My head still hurts and I'm tired." He spoke.

        "Oh! I'm sorry, Andrew. I was excited to hear Hailey's input to the book. I didn't mean to neglect you." (Y/N) spoke, immediate guilt forming in her chest as a frown drew on her face.

        I didn't mean to make her feel bad... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to sigh.

        "I'll see you later, hails. I'm going to take Andrew back to his room. I'll make sure to visit before leaving today." (Y/N) spoke, waving to Hailey as she opened the door for her and Andrew.

        "Okay." Hailey nodded, returning the nurse's wave as she watched them leave and shut the door behind them.

        "I didn't mean to ignore your pain, Andrew. I'm a bit of a scatterbrain, but that's no excuse." (Y/N) sighed, walking with Andrew to the elevators.

        "It's okay. You didn't mean it..." Andrew murmured.        

        "I won't do it again." She promised, a smile on her face as she and Andrew made it to the elevators and got an open one, walking into it.

        She pressed the fourth floor button and waited for the elevator to go. Even if she was growing to enjoy Andrew's company, she did feel a little uneasy being in the same elevator as him all alone.

        "So, Andrew. Do you have any favorite shows?" she questioned, trying to make small talk.

        "..Huh?" Andrew voiced, confused on where that came from.

        "I'll be seeing you pretty often now. I want us to build a connection." She explained. "A good way to do that is finding out each other's likes and dislikes." 

        Andrew huffed, ignoring the warmth in his chest that her confession made him feel. They walked out of the elevator and down the hallway, stopping at the staff's room.

        "I don't really like anything." Andrew admitted.

        "I refuse to believe that. We'll find something!" she smiled, determined. "Wait here a second." She instructed, pulling her lanyard from out of her shirt and grabbing her keys, unlocking the staff door.

        "Hi, Penelope." (Y/N) greeted once seeing the female present.

        "Ah. Hello, (Y/N)!" Penelope cheered, her strawberry blonde hair swaying as she stood up from her seat. "How was patient 402? Did he-" she looked behind (Y/N) and made an "eek!" sound, backing up.

        "Don't worry about him, just taking him back to his room. I had to grab painkillers first though." (Y/N) spoke, unlocking the medicine cabinet grabbing a pill bottle of ibuprofen and a bottle of water. 

        She grabbed a napkin and opened the pill bottle, putting two small tablets on the cloth. She walked over to Andrew with the napkin and water.        

        "Here, Andrew." She spoke, gently grabbing Andrew's hand and placing the pills in his palm.

        He accepted it and put them in his mouth without any hesitation. (Y/N) opened the water and tilted his head up, bringing the water bottle to his mouth, just in case he couldn't hold it on his own because of the weakening limbs from the surgery's sedation. He took greedy sips before tapping her hand, allowing her to move the bottle and screw on the lid.

        "There you go." She cooed. "Good job." 

        Why is she so much better at this job than me? She's a student! Why is my patient so trusting of her? Penelope thought. Aw, they look like such a couple! They're both so attractive too! This is too embarrassing! 

        Instead of doing what Penelope was thinking, she just spoke her mind.

        "W-wow..." Penelope muttered, utterly confused, shocked, and a bit flustered.

        "What?" (Y/N) questioned, turning to look at the young nurse.

        "Ack! Nothing!" she exclaimed, her face red as she covered her eyes with her hands.

        "Pen, are you feeling okay?" (Y/N) questioned, taking some steps towards Penelope. "Did you get enough sleep? Do you need food? Water?-"

        "N-no thanks!" she shouted, her face growing even redder at the thought of (Y/N) tilting her head and nursing her with a water bottle instead.

        Andrew understood immediately what was happening as he watched the two interact.

        Damn that nurse... Andrew thought to himself, glaring daggers at Penelope from behind (Y/N)'s shoulder.

        (Y/N) jumped, moving back a little, completely dazed and confused as she looked at the nurse. 

        THAT'S SO EMBARRASSING! Penelope screamed instead her head, resisting the urge to curl up in a ball and scream her heart out.

        Penelope has a problem with loving people too much. It's one of the reasons she became a doctor, to find someone in need and nurse them with her medicine and love. Unfortunately, she's a very shy person and stresses too easily, so her bursts of lovesickness can sometimes be too much for her heart and mind (it's one of the reasons Ruby from day shift can't stand her).

        "Okay...?" (Y/N) spoke, hesitantly. "If you need any help, call me. Okay?" 

        Penelope nodded quickly and spoke, quick to have the pair leave. "I understand! Bye now!" 

        Penelope shoved (Y/N) out of the room (Andrew just about ready to stand up and fight her, if it could walk, that is). Penelope locked the door behind them both as (Y/N) looked back, confused.

        "Huh, that's a little more of a panic attack than usual..." (Y/N) muttered to herself. "Okay, Andrew! Let's get you to your room." She smiled, acting as if nothing happened.

        (Y/N) walked down the hallway and grabbed a security guard that was stationed nearby, having them pick up Andrew and place him in his bed since she wasn't strong enough (she worked with picking up kids, not adults).

        "Alright, Andrew. You're probably really tired after your surgery. I'll leave you be." (Y/N) explained, watching as the security guard left.

        Just before she leaves, Andrew spoke up.

        "Will you be back later?" Andrew questioned, hesitant as he hid his flustered face by turning his head to the side, away from her view.

        "Of course! You can't get rid of me that easy, ya know?" she smiled.

        "Great..." Andrew sighed, not-so-sarcastically as he wished.

        "Oh, before I leave. Make sure you're behaving with the other nurses, they're only trying to help you." (Y/N) lightly scolded.

        I don't want their help. I want yours... Andrew thought to himself, resisting the urge to grimace at her words.

        “Ah, and before I forget too!” she gasped, reaching into her medical back and grabbing a book. “This is a sci-fi dystopian. You might like it! If not, no worries. We’ll find a genre for you.” She spoke, placing the book on his nightstand. “Don’t worry about reading it right now. Just sleep.”

        Andrew looked at the book, then her, before nodding. 

        (Y/N) left the room and shut the door behind her, letting out a sigh. 

        What do I do now? she thought to herself. Today feels so slow... I guess I can go back to the clinic and see what Doctor Ryan's doing. Or maybe I should go check on Penelope? She was panicky today.

        (Y/N) decided to check out Penelope and see what's up with her. (Y/N) is aware of Penelope's random bursts of lovesick confessions (Penelope has gotten into too much trouble with HR because of it, so everyone in the hospital knows about it), but (Y/N) had never really seen it take ahold of her that bad. Usually Penelope resorts to compliments (and light stalking), not full on shutting her brain down and panic.

        Did she find a new crush? (Y/N) wondered.

        Ever since (Y/N) became a student studying general pediatrics here at the hospital, she’s had her fair share of taking care of a patient every once in a blue moon for the psychiatric brand in case a nurse had a emergency and needed to leave. She met Penelope when Ruby had to leave because her daughter was in labor, and the usual nurse that took over Ruby's patients for the night shift had come up with the flu. (Y/N) had taken over Ruby’s patients that night and met Penelope, Penelope explaining what (Y/N) would have to do as a psychiatric nurse for the day.

        That was four months ago. They can technically be considered friends but they have the habit of being a little distant, though it’s slowly fading away ever since they agreed on hanging out every Saturday. Their Saturdays consisted of shopping and running errands together since it’s a day they’re both off. 

        (Y/N) walked back down to the staff room and unlocked the door, finding Penelope on the table face-down.

        “Are you okay?” (Y/N) questioned, standing a good distance from Penelope in case she needed some space.

        “How do you do it?” Penelope questioned, lifting her face off the table.

        “Do what?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “How can you be so calm with such cute guys?!” Penelope shouted, balling up her fists as her face went red.

        Does Penelope have a crush on Andrew? (Y/N) thought to herself.

        Her stomach twisted in either disgust or anger, probably both. She felt like throwing up as she thought about Penelope and Andrew together.

        Andrew was supposed to be Penelope’s patient, but (Y/N) swept him away from her after caring for him one day. Penelope had worked day shift that day since she was taking over one of the day nurses shifts because they were taking the day off for her son's graduation, so Penelope switched shifts with them for the day and worked their day shift, resulting in working with Andrew. However, apparently Andrew didn't like her care enough, or perhaps (Y/N) just has a more calm aura around her compared to Penelope. How she won Andrew over, she’s not sure, but he chose her. He chose her, not Penelope.

        “Ah, well… I guess I’m just really good at hiding what I feel?” (Y/N) smiled, feeling her polite smile twitch.

        “I’m hopeless. How can I ever find someone to love if I just freak out like this...?” Penelope sighed.

        “There, there, pen. I’m sure you’ll find someone one day.” (Y/N) comforted her, patting Penelope’s shoulder.

        Yes, not today or tomorrow. Not Andrew. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        “What will I do without you?!” Penelope cried, throwing herself on (Y/N) and hugging her tightly as she wept into her chest.

        (Y/N) resisted the urge to push Penelope off her. This was seriously unprofessional and she's certain if one of her coworkers (or worse, her superior and trainer Doctor Ryan) walked in, they'd possibly be sent to HR for how this may look. As much as they’re decent-ish friends, she’s not on the hugging level yet, but she doesn’t want to push Penelope off in case Penelope starts crying about that instead. 

        “Aw, pen. You’re too pretty to be crying about boys! Your eyeshadow is getting ruined.” (Y/N) spoke, diverting the subject. 

        “Aw jeez! Look what I did! I’m such a klutz…” Penelope sniffled, grabbing her phone and opening the camera to selfie-mode. “Aw! It was my good eye too! That took forever to even out.” 

        “How about I help you fix it?” (Y/N) offered.

        “You’re the best.” Penelope smiled, wiping the tears out of her eyes, only smudging her eyeshadow worse on both sides now.

        “Don’t mention it. Do you have the makeup on you?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Yep.” Penelope spoke, cheering up as she grabbed her makeup purse from her staff locker.

        She sat down on the staff room table and handed the bag to (Y/N), allowing the girl to look through her most prized possessions that kept her feeling cute and confident.

        (Y/N) found an eyeshadow box and opened it, browsing the colors and looking for the right one Penelope had smudged all over her.

        “Cute colors.” (Y/N) commented, adoring the light shades of pinks and nudes.

        “Thank you.” Penelope blushed, watching as (Y/N) grabbed a small bag of makeup wipes and opening them.

        (Y/N) grabbed a wipe and scooted closer to Penelope, grabbing her chin and angling it down so (Y/N) could see better. Penelope ignored the blush rising in her face and her heartbeat increasing, instead opting to close her eyes to ignore the closeness the two shared as (Y/N) wiped the makeup off Penelope’s face.

        (Y/N) noticed the blush on Penelope’s face and decided it’d be best not to acknowledge it or tease her. The first time (Y/N) noticed Penelope’s blush when they first met, she made a joke about it that left Penelope speechless around her for a few days. (Y/N) would rather not experience that awkwardness again. 

        If anybody walked in right now, (Y/N) prays that it’s anybody but a manager or Andrew. With how close they are right now, anyone would get the wrong idea.

        She wiped off the remaining makeup before grabbing a small brush and dabbed it in the light pink shade Penelope applied earlier, fixing her eye makeup. It took a few minutes before (Y/N) finished it.

        “Ta-dah!” (Y/N) cheered, resisting the powerful urge to say “you were my star patient today, have a sticker.” (It’s grown in her vocabulary now).

        “Thanks.” Penelope smiled, grabbing her phone and admiring herself in the camera.

        “No problem. I’m going to get back to the pediatric branch. If there’s any problems make sure to come find me.” (Y/N) explained. “Oh, we're still meeting up tomorrow, right? Think about what doughnuts you want! See you later!” (Y/N) waved, quickly shutting the staff door without waiting for Penelope’s farewell.

        Now that that’s all out of the way… I should get back to Doctor Ryan. (Y/N) thought to herself.

        There was a lingering feeling dwelling inside of her. She still felt sick, like kneeling down and spilling her guts out on the floor. Her chest still bubbled with anger, feeling as though steam is escaping through her ears. 

        It’ll probably take all night for me to calm down. (Y/N) figured, letting out a sigh. What was I angry about again? she thought.

        She walked away from the staff room and down the hallway, heading to the elevators. She boarded on and pressed the second floor button, leaning onto the handrail. The elevator’s movement only worsen the discomfort in her stomach.

        (Y/N) exited the elevator when the doors opened, walking down the hallway to the staff room. She would’ve made it there if she didn’t hear obnoxiously loud whispering in the room next to her, sounding similar to a toddler bickering. She peeked in the room and saw two little boys huddled together in front of a hanging white sheet, speaking to what appears as themselves. She noticed the hospital wrist bands on their arms, confirming their admission here.

        “What are you two doing?” (Y/N) questioned, crossing her arms. 

        They both jumped, letting out their own squeals as they turned around and looked at her.

        “N-nothing! Just… playing!” one smiled.

        They both looked like twins, (Y/N) noted.

        “You both should be in your rooms. What are your names?” she questioned.

        “I’m Tom, that’s Jerry.” The other toddler introduced themselves as.

        “Like the cartoon?” she questioned, a smile on her face.

        “Um… yes?” he spoke, hesitantly.

        Wow. Am I that old? They obviously haven’t seen it… she thought to herself.

        “Well, it sure matches you both, since you sneaked out of your rooms. Who are you talking to?” (Y/N) questioned, resisting the urge to peek behind the curtain.

        Yeah. Like I’m that dumb… I’m not going to die like Psycho from a killer hiding behind a damn curtain. She thought to herself. And there’s no way I’m investigating either. I don’t mess with ghosts.

        “Come along, now.” (Y/N) spoke.

        (Y/N) watched as they walked away, shooting each other glares. She looked at the curtain once last time before shutting the door and walking away. If she looked behind the curtain, she would’ve saw Ashley hiding from the security guard, a scalpel in her hand and ready to attack (Y/N) and the kids if the curtain was opened. Ashley was still mad at Andrew, and now she was mad at all the nurses in the hospital, but especially Andrew’s new nurse he grew to favor. 

        (Y/N) led the two kids to the staff room and unlocked the door, peeking in and looking for any nurse that recognizes these two. She saw one of the pediatric nurses, Wally, and smiled.

        “Ah, Wally. Do you know these two?” (Y/N) questioned, bringing the two kids into the room.

        “I thought I locked their doors. They kept trying to escape…” Wally sighed, standing up from his seat.

        “I used a pen to escape.” Jerry smiled. “Then broke Tom out.”

        “Well, thank you for telling me how you got out, because now there’s a no pen policy in your rooms.” Wally spoke, giving them a stern glare.

        “Aw! You just had to run your mouth!” Tom huffed.

        “You didn’t stop me!” Jerry poorly excused as Wally dragged them back to their hospital rooms.

        “How was I supposed to know what you were gonna say?” Tom questioned.

        I wonder what they’re in here for. (Y/N) thought to herself. They sure seem energetic for being sick or injured, but I supposed it could be something internal. 

        She decided to ignore it and refill her medical bag. She grabbed a new bottle of water and pretzels since she gave her old pair to Hailey earlier. 

        She walked out of the room and locked the door, heading back to the clinic. She found Doctor Ryan’s office and stood outside, waiting a few minutes in case there was a patient, that way in case a patient was getting a shot they wouldn't get startled and jump, accidentally breaking the needle or causing harm. She heard nothing from inside the door and assumed there was no patients, so she knocked gently.

        “Come in.” Doctor Ryan spoke.

        “Hello, sir.” (Y/N) greeted, entering the room and shutting the door behind them. “Is there any new patients today?” 

        “Only walk-ins, remember?” Doctor Ryan reminded.

        “Yeah, but I’m so bored…” she sighed.

        “I’ve never met a student that’s actually excited to work.” Doctor Ryan admitted, chuckling.

        “Not all that excited, but I woke up today to go to work, and I get paid to work, so I wanna work. Time is so slow when there’s nothing to do.” (Y/N) rambled.

        “I agree. Hey, I heard you got Andrew admitted for surgery. Internal bleeding in the brain?” Doctor reminded.

        (Y/N) felt a flash of worry and she grimaced.

        “Was that… the wrong call?” she questioned, not even bothering to hide the discomfort and worry on her face.

        “It was the right call. Good job. I just wanted to see you squirm.” The doctor laughed.

        “Sheesh, you worried me! I thought I got fired before evening getting the real job.” (Y/N) sighed.

        “Sorry, sorry. How is he doing? Social-wise? Is he still stingy towards the other nurses?” he questioned.

        “I introduced him to Hailey today. They both were quiet, but they interacted for a bit, which is good considering Hailey hasn’t seen a new visitor in a while.” She explained. "He saw Penelope too and didn't throw anything at her. So that's... good?"

        “How’s Hailey’s condition?” Doctor Ryan asked.

        “She’s only getting worse. I really don’t think she’ll live for long.” (Y/N) sighed, a frown forming on her face.

        “That’s unfortunate. Sadly, it’s part of our job to see them go sometimes.” Doctor Ryan spoke, patting her shoulder. “But hey, we’re here to help prevent that.”

        “That does remind me, when is Hailey’s next chemotherapy session?” she questioned.

        “It’ll be Sunday, but you and me won’t be here. With our day off and all.” Doctor Ryan explained. “Any plans?”

        “I’m hanging out with Penelope from the psychiatric branch tomorrow. Sunday I’ll catch up on sleep.” (Y/N) informed.

        She noticed his smug expression and glared at him, but that didn’t stop him from making his joke.

        “Well, I bet Andr-“ 

        “Don’t finish it.” (Y/N) warned.

        “Okay. Okay.” He chuckled.

        “What do you plan on doing?” she questioned, redirecting the conversation. 

        “Hanging out with my wife and kids. Probably get no sleep.” He shrugged.

        “Poor you, family man.” (Y/N) teased.

        “You don’t understand what it’s like trying to sleep in a house with two toddlers during the day. It’s not very easy.” He explained.

        “How’s the wife and kids anyway?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Jax just celebrated his third birthday. Piper’s learning to read. And Jane wants me to work day shift.” Doctor Ryan sighed.

        “Well, why don’t you?” (Y/N) questioned. “You sleep in the day and can’t spend time with your family at night since they're sleeping. I think it’d be best.” 

        “Exactly. Everyone does that. We don’t have enough nurses for night shift, especially skilled ones.” Doctor Ryan huffed, then remembered that (Y/N) technically qualifies as unskilled, at the moment at least. “Which is why I teach you! So I can skedaddle!” 

        “I’ll be the best pediatrician here.” (Y/N) smiled, then noticed the stare Doctor Ryan gave her. “Night shift wise, I will be. You’ll be on the day shift.”

        Doctor Ryan’s walkie-talkie went off, catching both of their attention.         

        “Doctor Ryan, a nurse is bringing a patient to you. Possible UTI.” The walkie-talkie spoke.

        “Aw, poor kid.” (Y/N) spoke.

        “Yeah, poor kid alright.” Doctor Ryan grimaced, just imagining the pain and discomfort.

        “Well, let’s get it checked out then prescribe antibiotics if they’re right.” She sighed, stretching her arms out and cracking her knuckles.         .         .         Thirty minutes before (Y/N)’s shift and she felt exhausted. The work day went by pretty fast and now she was walking down the hallway to see Hailey.

        She slowly opened the door, not wanting to knock and accidentally wake up Hailey, but she wanted to make sure Hailey was still breathing.

        She expected to see a sleeping girl but instead she saw that she was wide awake, using her nightstands lamp as a light so she could read.

        “Hailey!” (Y/N) lightly hissed through her teeth, quiet so she doesn’t accidentally wake up any nearby patients sleeping in their rooms.

        “Hello, Ms. (L/N).” Hailey smiled, unphased that she got caught. 

        “It’s 5:30 in the morning and you’re still up. You should’ve been long in bed sleeping.” She scolded, walking up to Hailey and sitting down on her guest chair. “But, since you’re up. How’s the book?”

        “I think it’s really interesting, the way her decisions could have such consequences. I never thought decisions would mean so much.” Hailey explained.

        “Of course. You know, I had to decide if I wanted to be a nurse or a writer.” (Y/N) admitted.

        “Well, you’re a nurse now.” Hailey smiled, before it dropped. “Do… you think if you weren’t a nurse, would we have never met?” 

        “Probably not.” (Y/N) admitted, not bothering to sugarcoat it to her. "But that's just a consequence from my decision. Not all consequences mean bad things. I don't regret not being a writer either. I'm here with you, aren't I?" she smiled, patting Hailey's hand reassuringly.

        "Uh, that boy from earlier..." Hailey started.

        (Y/N)'s smile disappeared as she felt a bolt of lightning strike her. She felt sick again, and her chest started to pop and boil, and her hands started to tremble. She dug her nails into her palms once more and tilted her head, leaning in close to listen to the girl.

        "He was scary..." Hailey muttered, causing (Y/N) to let out a forced giggle.

        "Ah, yes. I supposed Andrew was. But he's real sweet when he opens up." (Y/N) smiled, giving her a small white lie since she really didn't know herself if Andrew was sweet, but she at least wanted to ease the girl's nerves.

        "I think he likes you." Hailey teased, letting out a girlish giggle.

        "Everyone apparently thinks that." (Y/N) laughed, recalling Doctor Ryan's words. 

        "Well, do you like him back?" Hailey questioned.        

        "Oh, hails. I just met him yesterday!" (Y/N) pointed out, shaking her head as she smiled.

        "It's true love at first sight!" Hailey declared.

        "Where'd you learn that saying?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I'm serious! I think you two would be really cute, you're like polar opposites!" Hailey claimed, ignoring (Y/N)'s previous question.

        Really, personality-wise, I don't think we're too different. Hailey doesn't understand my outside-work persona. (Y/N) thought to herself as she just smiled and went along with what Hailey said.

        "You should confess!" Hailey encouraged. 

        "What's with you and this?" (Y/N) questioned.

        "I know I won't live long enough to experience love like in the books... so I figured the second best thing would be having you live it." Hailey smiled, her smile fake and twitching.

        "Oh, hails..." (Y/N) sighed, getting up from her chair and walking to Hailey's bedside.

        Hailey scooted over so that (Y/N) could sit on the bed with her. Hailey immediately wrapped her arms around (Y/N)'s torso and dug her face into (Y/N)'s chest, her shoulders heaving up and down, giving away that she was crying. (Y/N) sighed and wrapped one of her arms around Hailey, the other she used to gently caress Hailey's bald scalp, a permanent reminder of her condition.

        (Y/N) wanted to tell her that Hailey would be alright, that she would make it through, but she knew she couldn't promise that, especially to a little kid. She wasn't going to accidentally give the girl false hope and have her miserable on her potential death bed. 

        "You're such a sweet girl, any boy would fall for you instantly. Your cute little button nose and brown eyes would have any boy smitten. Your laugh and sweet personality would have any boy confess their love for you. If you made some friends with the boys here in this branch, you'll have so many guys surrounding you, you wouldn't know what to do!" (Y/N) reassured, poking Hailey's nose and causing her to giggle.

        "Do you think they'd still like me even without hair?" Hailey questioned.

        "Course they would. If a boy only likes you for your looks, punch him for me." (Y/N) joked, smiling.

        "I will." Hailey giggled.

        "Hey, I'll tell you what. When I come back on Monday, I'll take you out to the garden. The flowers are in bloom this year!" (Y/N) spoke.

        "Promise?" Hailey gasped.

        "I swear on my life." (Y/N) smiled. "Now, I'm going to go pay Andrew a little visit. You better sleep when I leave this room, understand?” (Y/N) questioned.

        “Yes.” Hailey nodded.

        “Thank you. And good job today, Hailey. I’m so proud of you for talking with Andrew and staying strong as always. What color star would you like today?” (Y/N) asked, reaching into her medical bag.

        “Purple.” Hailey smiled.

        “You got it.” (Y/N) smiled, placing the sticker down onto Hailey’s nightstand. “Goodnight, hails. I’ll see you Monday.” 

        “Goodnight.” Hailey smiled, getting comfortable in her bed.

        (Y/N) walked out of the room and closed the door, making her way to the elevators. She got on and pressed the fourth floor button, waiting for the elevator to stop moving. The doors opened and she walked out and to Andrew’s room. She made it in front of the door then knocked.

        There was no answer.

        Ah, Andrew must’ve went to bed like I asked. It’s good that he actually listens to me. (Y/N) thought, a smile appearing on her face at the thought of having possibly tamed the cannibalistic murderer (however she did, she does not know).

        (Y/N) opened the door quietly, just to check. It’s also a possibility that he could’ve died in his sleep due to the anesthesia or a error in the surgery. It could also be a possibility that he jumped out of the window since he’s on suicide-watch (not like any other nurse had the nerves to come in and actually leave with no bruises).

        She opened the door and noted that he was still in bed, sleeping peacefully. His heart monitor was still on and showed his vitals, all sounding normal and looked it too. Her heart sped up a bit as she watched him sleep peacefully.

        He looks so peaceful. (Y/N) noted, admiring his vulnerable and slumbering figure. 

        He was handsome when he wasn't frowning. Well, even when he did have a scowl on his face, he was certainly able to make such an ugly face a pretty one. His pale skin in comparison to his dark hair was breathtaking, and his green eyes were simply divine, like Granny Smith apples; sour and tart, but a hint of sweet when you bite down just right.

        She eventually snapped out of her trance after remembering that she was still in the hallway and what she was doing was no doubt creepy, and shut the door. It probably would’ve been a good idea to have told him that she would be gone for a few days, but she’s sure he’ll manage decently. 

        She walked away and to the branch’s staff room, unlocking the door. Lucky, there was no one in for her to have to converse with—nobody except Penelope. Penelope patients were always the most tamest and laidback since HR knew her.. questionable... personality.

        “Hey!” Penelope smiled, just finishing clocking out.

        “Hello!” (Y/N) greeted back, walking towards her and grabbing the clipboard and pen from her hands as Penelope handed it to her.

        “How was patient 402 today?” Penelope questioned.

        “Ah, he had surgery so I didn’t see much of him. He saw Hailey for a few minutes before he went to his room and slept.” (Y/N) explained. 

        “Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad he’s doing okay and I’m glad he’s getting along with Hailey.” Penelope squealed.

        “Mmhm.” (Y/N) hummed, finishing her clock-out.

        She used the computer and typed up today's report for all her patients. When she got to Andrew's she typed: get casting on leg done immediately while he’s still asleep so he or his sister doesn’t get hostile. 

        Penelope read the screen from over (Y/N)’s shoulder, then spoke.

        “Oh. His sister? I haven’t seen her since yesterday!” Penelope explained.

        “Huh. Well, maybe she had something to do today?” (Y/N) reasoned. 

        “Maybe! But I heard from Ruby that she was kicked out of the hospital after she got aggressive with Andrew. She probably got banned from returning.” Penelope explained.

        (Y/N) physically grimaced, a scowl forming on her face at Penelope saying Andrew’s name. She really didn’t like it when Penelope said his name and she’s not sure why.

        “Is there something wrong? Did you forget to do something?” Penelope questioned.

        “Oh, no. I just made the face because I can’t believe his sister could be so mean to him while he’s injured.” (Y/N) smiled forcefully.

        “Right? Poor Andrew… I really hope he doesn’t have to see her anytime soon! It makes me wonder how she usually treats him uninjured.” Penelope frowned, pitying the poor patient who wasn’t in the room.

        (Y/N) grimaced again, hating her saying “Andrew” just as much as she hated it the first time, if not, even stronger.

        “I agree.” She spoke through her smiling teeth, another forceful grin. "Welp!" she smiled, clapping her hands together. "See you tomorrow, Penelope!" she spoke, quick to clock out and leave. 

        (Y/N) quickly walked down the hall to the elevators, hopping in and pressing the lobby button. She took a moment to compose herself, leaning against the railing.

        I feel so weird today. My chest feels like it's being squeezed and I feel almost angry... She thought, confused of her emotions. 

        Maybe she didn't eat a big enough lunch. When she gets home, she'll eat dinner and drink lots of water before heading to bed. Yeah, she could use the meal and the sleep. It can be really difficult being the caretaker when you have no one to care for you, but in her own words, "in order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself."

        She got in her car and drove back to her apartment, shutting the door and locking it before she collapsed on her living room's couch. She laid on her back for a few minutes, staring at the ceiling blankly, no thoughts crossing her mind.

        She needed the few minutes to gain some energy. It’s always so exhausting smiling and being positive, especially in such a depressing and brooding setting such as a hospital where many meet their end, even worse that its children. 

        She doesn’t regret her decision in going through with becoming a pediatrician, but it does get heartbreaking seeing young kids die. She tries her best to help them, but sometimes there’s just some things out of your control.

        She knows that when Hailey dies, she’ll be absolutely devastated. Out of all the patients she sees and talks to, she always makes sure to give Hailey the most of her attention and time. 

        Hailey was first admitted into the hospital when she was seven. After weeks of in and out tests at the hospital, MRI’s and blood withdraws, she was diagnosed with cancer. From then on, she spent her days at the hospital. Hailey’s parents were always busy, one was a lawyer and the other was a traveling diplomat. The nurses were basically babysitters for her while her parents were working.

        Her parents loved her, they loved her so much that they couldn’t bare to see her slowly deteriorate in front of their eyes, so they forced themselves away from her side and indulged in work to rid the thought of their only daughter dying. They didn’t realize how lonely or terrifying it was for Hailey, to suddenly be surrounded by white walls and white floors and white sheets. Surrounded by the stench of heavy bleach and aroma of lemons. By radiation machines and clumps of lost hair on her pillows. 

        She watched out of her window as other patients walk in and out of the hospital, their families walking by their side, supporting them during their times of need. Her visitors weren't family, but nurses and doctors entering and exiting her room, no longer bothering to smile or give her white lies of how she'll heal soon.

        (Y/N) couldn't try to understand or emphasize, she wasn't sick in a hospital bed balding. She wasn't bedridden, and she had the fortunate ability to move her legs unlike Hailey's legs, the clumping of leukemia cells in Hailey's knees making it hard to walk on some days. (Y/N)'s been Hailey's nurse for five months now, she had started nursing Hailey before she decided to change her career.

        (Y/N) was originally going to be a pediatric nurse, make sure children are sticking to their proper recovery path and taking medications that they're doctors are prescribing them, provide utmost comfortability and nurturing to them as they could, and constantly run tests on their weights, diets, and symptoms, but she changed her studies to become a pediatric hematologist-oncologist after meeting Hailey. 

        (Y/N) graduated high school a year early by taking Advanced Placement (college-level) courses and getting a head start by going to classes during school breaks and on the weekends. It was exhausting and downright infuriating at times, but she managed and graduated with her high school diploma along with a certificate in child care after completing a three-year course in high school for early childhood education; allowing her to get a part-time job after high school by working in a daycare. Then she moved out from her parents, heading to college and completing one year of adolescent medicine (originally, it was supposed to be four, but her AP classes counted for college-credit and high school credits). She finished college five months ago, and now she's learning from Doctor Ryan JTED general pediatrics while taking online hematology-oncology classes to graduate med school early. 

        She had always been an over-achiever, aiming for success to please her parents and earn what little praise she could. It had been a goal ever since she was a child, to hear such little words from them with actual meaning, not just false words spoken on auto-pilot to shoo their child away.

        Her father wanted her to be successful and rich in life, so she wouldn't have to deal with poverty in her future anymore, and her mother... well, her mother really didn't care what she did. In fact, her mother never cared at all. Her parents were always working all the time. Her father worked as an overworked and underpaid mechanic who worked 6-8, never having any time for his daughter as he worked in the day and slept at night. Her mother was also a nurse, specializing in cardiology; she slept in the day and worked at night. Even on her days off, she slept and ignored (Y/N)'s needs. 

        From two years old to five, (Y/N) was locked alone in a room with a bed, TV, and a bathroom. She was locked in a dark room for 16 hours a day, with no food and the only water source was from the sink's faucet. All she did in that room was sleep, watch cartoons on the TV, and cry; begging to be let out of the room, begging for food, begging for any sort of affection or tenderness from her mother who slept in the room next door so that (Y/N) wouldn't interrupt her sleeping. Instead, the only affection she received in her life was the embrace of her bed's sheets.

        All her time in her hands caused her to sleep so much she developed a sleeping disorder, hypersomnia; the inability to remain alert, woke, or refreshed in the daytime despite having an excessive amount of rest. That condition became chronic, even now she struggled with it, which made her excessive daytime sleepiness so much worse due to working eight hours at the hospital for her JTED classes of general pediatrics (at least she got paid for her apprenticeship, working from 8 A.M. to 5 P.M.), and studying online for hematology-oncology for at least 3 to 4 hours after work. She's eternally grateful for her med school being paid, earning a scholarship due to all her high grades in her AP classes and completing college with her adolescent medicine degree. Medicine was a part of her mother's side of the family, and (Y/N) naturally became a caretaker after learning to care for herself her whole life; touch starved from the hands of her mother and father. 

        If (Y/N) had been the patient in the hospital bed, would her mother have cared then? Would she have shown a bit of sympathy? Even just touch her arm for a few seconds to feel for a vein and inject a IV needle in? The answer was no. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) had been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance, fainting after days of neglecting her needs of food and water in order to complete her piling school work. Her mother didn't care when (Y/N) pleaded for help at ten years old, saying she believed she had depression and needed help. 

        Instead of helping her, her mother shook it off as hormones from puberty, and even told her to stop overreacting that: "You can't be depressed. People have such worse lives than you, dying alone in hospital beds, and here you are, crying about a few hormonal mood swings." 

Her mother didn't even care when (Y/N) had tried to kill herself when she was just eleven years old. For a nurse, whose job is supposed to protect and care, she was cruel.

        Her father cared, he really did, but he just didn't have the time for her. While her mother slept and ignored her, he was at work busting his ass off to earn money and support their family. He had grown up poor, living in immense poverty, sharing a bedroom with his sister, unsure of when their next meal was. He never graduated high school, he went to the military but after a few years was rejected due to heart conditions, which led him to coming home and getting his GED so that he could go to college and become a mechanic. Money was always a problem for her family, even in a two-income household it was hard to meet living standards. A big reason she piled all that work on her and neglected her health was so she could get her schooling paid for. 

        Remember her saying from earlier? "In order to care for another, you must first learn to care for yourself." Well, she had to teach herself that the hard way. She realized she couldn't be a nurse and preach others to care for themselves if she couldn't even care for herself. So, she took on hobbies to help her mental health, forced herself to make friends and gain confidence, made an oath to stop her self-harm when she was young. This was a challenge, but it presented opportunity for growth, for success, for happiness. 

        Opportunity is everywhere, so long as you choose to believe it. You don't need to see things to know it's there, so long as you have faith. Opportunity is everywhere, lurking and waiting to jump out from the corner and get you! Even the corner of your bedroom, while you lay thinking of nothing and everything depressingly on your couch. Opportunity is stalking, waiting patiently for you to walk through your bedroom door so they could give you a big hug! Or a stab! Or multiple stabs! 

        Opportunity comes in many forms. Education, money, experience, decisions, and even people; such as Ashley Graves! Opportunities to pursue your goal of nursing, or if we use Ashley's motivation, a wonderful opportunity to stab a little nurse out of jealousy all because she just happened to get too close to her brother after he made a minor slip-up. A Grave consequence, really. 

A cliff-hanger! This is where the next chapter will take some time to come out since all the previous chapters were drafts I wrote for fun before I started writing for Tumblr.

Also, Penelope is one of my first yanderes I created myself, an OC! While she won't play a major role in this series, she'll have her own headcannons and such one day once I get around to it, maybe you'll find an interest in her yourself!

Want more Andrew Graves content? Check out the Andrew Graves masterlist!

Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for request!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, current chapter, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

OOOH!that ghost kid thing with the digital circus performers was amazing!!! I cant resist but ask.but can you make a headcanons of the performers would react if spirit kid Y/n is more absent today and suddenly after a while appear with more blood than usual..static noise around them..and points at the group and is like “I know who killed me now…” and poofs again away?? they found out who but as like a scare they prank the characters by making them think maybe one of them did..

I feel evil so- XD

Hope u have a good day!!

I'm glad you liked the hcs! Spooky season may be over, but I'm definitely not done writing spooky content 👻

.........

Jax

He blinks, and then immediately turns directly to Gangle.

"Oh Gangle, I knew it was you all along. Tsk, tsk." He shakes his head, putting on the cheekiest grin as the ribbon gal cries out that she didn't do anything.

He knows you were just pranking all of them, although he does wonder who really murdered you and how you figured it out.

Given how much you've been disappearing lately, he's sure that it's only a matter of time before your spirit moves on.

Or maybe...you were cursed to forever live inside this game since you had no body to return to.

Then again, he's not sure if any of them do...

All he knows is that during the times he does see you with the group, you seem happier (although the blood and static noises are still prevalent and aren't any less unsettling to see/hear).

Maybe you've already made peace with your existence after solving this huge mystery, content with making dark jokes to cope.

Pomni

At first she's happy..

Then she's utterly terrified once it sinks in that you didn't specify who exactly murdered you.

All you did was point to the group like you were accusing one of them before disappearing for the remainder of the day.

This poor jester can't remember anything for the life of her....so she can't help wondering if she might've been your killer.

You did arrive not long after she did.

After Jax points this out, she's 100% convinced it was her.

Maybe she unknowingly killed you while wearing the headset and this was some sort of eternal punishment.

It's a thought that keeps her up all night (not that she needed sleep to survive, but she was quite exhausted in the morning).

You do end up visiting her to say it was just a little prank. It wasn't anybody in the group and you didn't mean to freak her out this badly.

That brings her a lot of relief.

Although she's not a fan of your morbid humor (not that she'll say anything about it, though).

Gangle

The second you vanish after revealing you knew your killer, everyone looks at each other in confusion

"Th-They didn't say who, though, did they...?" She mutters.

"Right, because they know it was you, Gangs." Jax remarks, causing her to freeze.

She's outright horrified he would even remotely suggest that.

Poor girl's scrambling to justify how she couldn't have possibly killed you when she's been stuck in the game longer than you.

Imagine her awkwardness as Jax openly states that he was in fact kidding around..

He also expresses his doubts she'd even be capable of murder...as he recounts her crying over accidentally stepping on a digital ladybug.

She's not sure whether to take that as a compliment or not.

Gangle only fully calms down once you go to her personally and reassure her you were just pranking the group.

Although you'll haunt Jax as payback for trying to throw her under the bus.

Zooble

They just turn to the group and sigh.

"Okay, who did it? Because they've officially given me the f***ing creeps popping in and out like that."

She's strangled Jax on a number of occasions, so they are very much capable of committing violence...

But she has her doubts since you still hang around the group.

Alongside Jax, she quickly sees through your little joke and rolls their eyes when you admit that it was indeed a prank.

She can tolerate your dark humor, knowing you can't help it given your "spooky" theme.

They suspect Caine murdered you since he seemed most alarmed by your arrival. Plus you never spoke to him much.

But no, he actually helped you track down your killer--who abstracted the second they set foot inside the game and got thrown into the cellar.

Zooble never thought she'd see the day where they were actually impressed at Caine's actions.

Kinger

Like Pomni and Gangle...he's probably gonna overthink it and grow distrustful of the others, wondering who did it.

You seemed quite confident and serious in your confession---and scary as hell, too.

He proposes they all discussed it at the dinner table and hold a vote on who to cast out (sorta like a certain video game with a name that sadly slips by him).

Ironically, he refuses to say anything and just....stares uncomfortably at Gangle the entire time.

But before any of the talks could end in fighting or her getting sacrificed to the Gloink Queen...you show up again, looking calmer and less bloody than before.

When you reveal it was just a little prank, Kinger sighs in relief.

"Good heavens, you nearly gave me a second heartattack, [y/n]! Why didn't you just say so?"

"...thought it would be funny."

"........"

"........."

"......AH!! GH-GHOST!!!"

"Aaaand there's "heartattack #2, ladies and gentleman," Jax shakes his head, kicking his feet onto the table with an amused smile.

Ragatha

She's genuinely happy to hear that you knew who your killer was...

Although before she can ask you who, you disappear without warning.

Judging from the way you acted, you were accusing one of them...yet you didn't signal out anybody in particular.

She knows that she couldn't have possibly done it.

So she spends most of the day trying to calm down Pomni and the others (but mostly Pomni) who think they might've somehow accidentally killed you.

It begins to stress her out a little, so she searches for you, and you prank her with something silly.

After making her laugh, you use that opportunity to explain that you were joking with the group earlier, reassuring her that it wasn't any of them and the killer had already abstracted.

Her face falls flat as she realizes you just wanted to see how they would all react.

"[Y/n], that's just...mean." She frowns. "Pomni was freaking out all day, you know."

"Tell her I didn't mean any harm...I guess..nobody here understands my humor."

"I mean I do, but dark humor is more Zooble's and Jax's shticks."

"....true. My bad, Rags."

".....it's okay, dear." She sighs, unable to stay mad at you forever. "I'm just glad you didn't drive yourself insane trying to find them."

[notmorbid]

yellowjackets, season 1 [pt. 1].

dialogue prompts from the first season of showtime's yellowjackets.

i still get chills just thinking about it.

i'm going to talk to you like an adult. is that okay with you?

i don't talk to reporters. but i'm guessing you already know that.

shouldn't we say a prayer first?

remember, anger can be good.

this already does not feel like a meaningful conversation.

just admit you did it on purpose.

you're the best friend i've ever had.

it's a good luck charm. now nothing can touch you.

i took the red cross babysitter training class. twice.

does that usually work for you?

you are so mad and yet so wrong.

i take it you know why i'm here.

i have a lot of theories, but do you want to go first?

talk about someone who didn't want to be found.

i come bearing gifts. you're welcome.

are you making fun of me?

for the record, i was trying to save you.

look at me and tell me what you mean.

i guess i didn't make much of an impression.

you're not out of the woods yet.

what about you? any secrets big enough to crash a goddamn plane?

dying is nothing to be afraid of.

we think we know what we're doing, but really, we have no clue.

if you want me busting kneecaps, it's gonna cost extra.

you should've brought your rifle.

are you sure this is a good idea? what if the neighbors see?

you can learn so much about a person by going through their personal refuse.

you're not that much of a bitch.

i didn't come here to fight crime.

home? yeah, what's that?

you two are the worst for each other.

it's so easy for you to judge others with your perfect life, right?

what's the point in having connections if you can't use them?

you're beautiful when you're honest.

do you know how weird you are?

uncomfortable silences make me uncomfortable.

i don't know about you, but i'm really scared.

i just need my best friend right now.

the worst is behind us, okay?

i know you're not asleep.

i'm different from what people expect, and it scares them.

the police are coming. we have to go. do you understand?

i think bad things happened here.

you said you wanted to make up for your misspent youth.

i know when you look at me, you don't see someone you should be afraid of.

if i win, you have to tell me something personal about yourself.

r.i.p., sorry. it was worth it.

i'm like a well you whisper your secrets into.

i've heard the official story.

you had to know i was like, totally in love with you. right?

it doesn't matter how shitty they are. it still fucks you up when they're gone.

i think the ghost decided it was time to get some sleep.

you've never been good at being anything other than yourself. it's your superpower.

i don't know how much longer i can keep doing this.

you taught me how to be like this, you know.

you make people feel like things are gonna be okay just by showing up.

if we can laugh at all this, maybe it'll help us feel better.

you know, you never get the time back. none of us will.

are you seriously doing magic right now?

when did you fall out of love with ____?

you're so not fine. do you think i can't see that?

you poisoned me. why?

have you ever heard of mutually ensured destruction?

i was just going to keep you company, if that's okay.

you won't tell anyone, will you?

[cursed-peanut]

Once there’s nothing left to destroy and no one left to kill, he comes to terms with the fact he killed Reader and becomes disgusted with himself. He’s officially became the monster Reader thought he was. The only fair punishment he deems for himself is to live out the rest of his life on this bare planet, wallowing away in the pain he stupidly caused himself.

thats literally poetic i would eat it up

ur so right ab their personalities i can def see it happening. i like how ur writing is very relative to the characters personalities. if u write angst i cant wait to read it

if u go w the gojo idea, imagine seeing sukuna manipulate reader using their love for him to find out stuff for him or to help him out n stuff, and the reader hates it but hasnt ever known any other love, and thinks this is like normal until gojo finds out and is so betrayed bc he thought the reader was close bc reader liked gojo back

reader going out of japan and sukuna becoming a good guy (im delusional) n all n finds her his whole life only when he does shes moved on n stuff and like doesnt even remember him that well, now that would make me cry rlly bad 💀💀 - 🍥

Thank you!! I truly think that that is how everything ends in this AU. Reader can no longer look past Sukuna’s actions, so they move on completely, leaving all shackles of Jujutsu Society behind. But Sukuna can’t accept that and becomes loss of purpose and overwhelmingly angry, so much so he destroys everything and regrets it for all eternity once he’s calmed down and realised what he did.

And I’m glad you think so! I’m sometimes worried I write them ooc (I mean, soft Sukuna is VERY ooc, but like, other than that I mean lmaooo), so I’m happy that my depictions of them are right.

I will definitely explore the Gojo idea, but I don’t think it would be the canon idea. Or at least where Reader reciprocates the feelings. It could possibly come close, but then Sukuna’s like “nah, you’d lose.” And kills him.

But yes, no matter if Reader was to reciprocate Gojo’s feelings or not, Sukuna would know and would definitely use your obliviousness to Gojo’s feelings and devotion for him to his advantage and manipulate Reader into giving him information about Gojo.

Now Reader is a kind soul, even though they love Sukuna and he’s told them time and time again that this is okay and it’s for the greater good, deep down Reader knows they shouldn’t be doing this and it eats them alive. Therefore, I’d like to think Gojo would immediately know something is up.

When he questions Reader, they would immediately crumble telling Gojo everything that Sukuna knows thanks to them and he’s not gonna lie, he feels absolutely betrayed and heartbroken that while he thought you were finally reciprocating his feelings, you were secretly telling Sukuna everything. I think this is where Gojo would properly start honing in on the idea that Reader should stay away from Sukuna and telling them he isn’t healthy for Reader — despite being heartbroken. Maybe if you cut contact with Sukuna, you will fall for him this time?

The plasters ripped off and Reader’s view of Sukuna shatters as they finally realise who Sukuna truly is. Completely overwhelmed and heartbroken that Sukuna would use them like that, this would be when Reader leaves Japan.

And yk what? Sukuna becoming a good guy is extremely delulu icl, but soft Sukuna is already delulu enough, so why not go the full mile? 😂

I honestly love this idea! It’s definitely not something I would make canon but something — like if Reader started dating Gojo — I would like to explore at some point!

Imagine Sukuna realising how shitty of a boyfriend he has been when Reader left. He was so focused on creating the perfect future for Reader and him that he completely neglected Reader’s feelings during the creation process, so he stops his plans, changes his ways (mostly) and focuses on trying to find them.

After a few years of searching, he finds Reader in a country far from Japan with a completely new life. Itadori warned him before he left that finding Reader probably wouldn’t end well, but he ignored him. He now wishes he’d listened to his bratty nephew. Reader had a dotting, human boyfriend, worked at a bakery, had a nice welcoming home and had completely moved on from him.

He was unsure about approaching them at first, but he regretted when he did because you had to rack your mind for a good minute before recognising him. But that wasn’t even the worst part. When Reader recognised him, their face morphed into pure fear as they just stared back at him. Waiting for him to do something. Perhaps kill them for running away from him.

“I see you’ve created a lovely new life.”

Reader warily nods as tears prick the corners of their bloodshot eyes. This is it. This is the end.

“Promise me that no matter what life throws at you, you will live a life you can be proud of.” And with that, he turns and leaves them alone. Forever.

Thanks again 🍥 anon for the yummy angst thoughts :333

————————————

Taglist: @makuzume @spicyhyunn @pearlescentwonderland @namjooningera @six-eyed-samurai @natriae @domainofmarie @lixern @fluttershyfangs @girlyuuta @anabort @yu-87 @sukunaglazer4ever @madison777x @dervngedgf @calisnewworld @ilybbg @the-banshee @mostnormalsukunastan2024real @williamafton26 @mythoswarrior-23 @megantheefan @mindless-rock @kimsunoo2003 @anayesha1 @shyshybabyy @unlikelystay @shigemis0ra @iloveboysinred @eresel4mordemivid4 @meo66 @frozen-waffles @mrsslytherin00 @lazyperfectioniste @whosmarjj @itawifeyy @sugurubabe @hanniebanggi @mrs-monkey-d-luffy @sukunadckrider @shadowlover321 @mwtsxri

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[crazylittlejester]

Opinion time

honestly, I like the hero of time as much as the next person- OOT is one of my favorite games in the whole entire series and I love the characterization Jo-Jo gave him, but that doesn’t mean I can’t admit he’s an extremely flawed character

and I mean this in a good way, Jo-Jo wrote a character you can know did bad things and still like him /pos

but I didn’t like how, in the timeline parts, wind does confront and ask him “why did you leave?” And times only response is, in my own words

”I left it behind cuz I felt like it LMAO”

..????? yes he took percussions to make sure ganon “didn’t come back” (which.. he did, time knew the seal would break eventually. ganon literally screams out about how much he hates him and is coming for his descendants)

leaving an entire world behind to rot is just written off as “shit happens” and you can’t say “well time didn’t know what he was doing” because, at some point, yes he FIGURES OUT his actions have consequences /nm

Imagine being rulie, your entire world is a wasteland and you ask the guy who CAUSED its downfall “why does my land suck so much” he just goes “oops my bad”

in the child timeline he just fucks off, in the downfall timeline he dies, comes back, and says forget everybody else, he only really started giving half-a-shit in the adult timeline with twilight. We can see this with his blatant favoritism over him.

anyways this was me screaming at the clouds about how time isnt a cookie cutter hero, he’s flawed and he’s made mistakes and honestly? It makes his character better and more enjoyable. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk (feel free to give ur opinion on the matter)

okay sorry for any spelling mistakes or oddly autocorrected words, this was kinda a lot longer than i thought it would be alkjslkjs 😭

Okay this is an incredibly interesting perspective and I’m not sure I’ve seen anyone else with this exact take on Time. I have a much different view of his character and his actions, though it was nice to read yours! /gen

First off, I completely agree that Time is a incredibly flawed person, and that’s part of why I love his character so much. He is not perfect, he is not the best leader, he makes mistakes. I genuinely think that the only reason he’s leader of this group and why the others tolerate him being the unofficial official leader is because even they can acknowledge that Time is just the best person for that role. He is not a perfect leader, he is not and I don’t know if he’ll ever truly reach that, but looking at the other options, he really was the best for the role. (Warriors would’ve been incapable of fully separating the others from the military in his mind, Twilight wouldn’t have been able to go off as Wolfie without causing mistrust or doubt towards him in the beginning, and Legend simply didn’t WANT that. The only other person who possibly could’ve lead the group would be Sky, and while I do think that could work, Time has way more experience)

Time has made a lot of mistakes, in his games, in the comic, he’s not flawless. I think in the comic (LU) we most commonly see this through how he’ll say things that come across as incredibly flat, snappy, or a bit harsher than what was really necessary for the situation. And this is just something it seems like he’s always been like, at least with how Jojo characterizes him, because in that one sketch with him and Malon when they were younger, he said something that did very much come off as snappy/rude, and he immediately realized how what he said sounded and tried to make an attempt to apologize. In the most recent update, we see how his stress and emotions made him much snappier and harsh towards the others than he really needed to be. I’d even argue in some moments, when he’s talking about his past and we see parts of his past, he’s a BIT arrogant. He certainly isn’t that way anymore, or at least he’s not as arrogant, but we see some moments where he comes off ass a little full of himself, the one I remember the clearest is the expression on his face when he got into Gerudo Town and a bit how he was talking about it. He’s also able to admit his flaws and that he was too distracted and let that get in the way of him helping the others while Twilight was hurt

Where I disagree with you (AND THIS IS ALL MY OPINION AND MY INTERPRETATION) is on Time’s thoughts surrounding the whole timeline thing. I do not think he had ANY idea that he was creating a whole other timeline, nor do I think he really even had a choice. He was sent back in time in an attempt to stop Ganon from destroying everything, and I believe he’s spent all the years since thinking all he did was go back in time. I don’t think he ever even considered the fact that Wind’s timeline continued on without him there (screenshots taken from Timeline Talk 1, art credit to @/linkeduniverse)

He DIDN’T know what he was doing. He was like, 9-10 in the body of (roughly) a 17 year old, he was doing whatever he was told by Zelda, Rauru and the sages, the goddesses, whoever. And I don’t think ANYONE realized the consequences of sending him back in time like that. I genuinely think that this right here is where he realizes not only that the timelines split, but the timelines split because of HIS adventure/journey. And when faced with the idea that every time he used his ocarina he abandoned hyrule (kingdom) he seems horrified (also from Timeline Talk 1):

I also don’t think the others have any idea at all that Hyrule and Legend are on a separate timeline from everyone else. I think everyone who comes after Time on ANY timeline has heard of him, but Legend and Hyrule haven’t had the chance really to talk about their timeline with Time, at least not really like how Wind did. And even if they had, again, Time DIED in their timeline, which could not possibly in any way have been his fault 😭

So yeah, he did leave Wind’s timeline (which is the adult timeline), but he genuinely had no idea that it got ABANDONED. I think the way he was looking at is was like erasing and starting anew and not just writing over what was already written and leaving that there (if that makes sense). And even if he had realized he completely abandoned that time, I’m not sure it would’ve even been possible for him to go back, and if he HAD, there’s only one Time. Twilight either wouldn’t have been born, or he’ve been born in Wind’s timeline. Which raises some INTERESTING theories because if Twilight had been there, would his game have happened? If it HAD, would Wind even be a hero? Given that whole theory that Wind doesn’t even have the hero’s spirit and he CHOSE the hero life instead of the other way around. That’d honestly be so interesting to explore!! I kinda wanna write a fic on it

Time did was he was told to do, he did was he was guided to do by people older than him or who had more ‘power’ than him. He was around ten years old, I don’t think he had a “Lmao fuck this shit” attitude when timeline hopping, I don’t think he understood he was timeline hopping at all. He didn’t understand what he was doing and he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, he was just trying to survive, and I’ll even bet he really thrived on what little acknowledgement and appreciation he got for saving hyrule (kingdom) because he seems (to me at least) like after losing the Great Deku Tree and the Kokiri he was REALLY lonely

And yes, he definitely for sure has a soft spot for Twi. But aside from Twi JUST being his descendant, I think Time feels bad that Twi followed after him in the hero business. He probably realized Twilight was descended from him and then really LOOKED at him and saw everything that young man went through and Time probably felt AWFUL. And after realizing that Wind’s entire timeline suffered because of something he did, I’m sure he feels the same way towards Wind. Because he may not be Time’s blood, but he’s a KID and he’s been through so much. Also there could be an argument made that Time is such a hoverer around Twi rn because he was hurt. I’m sure Four could’ve been the one who was hit and Time would be hovering over HIM instead

TL;DR: Yes Time is incredibly flawed. That’s what makes him interesting, that’s what makes him a good character, I wouldn’t like him very much if he were perfect alkjslksj. But I do not think he intentionally abandoned the other timelines, nor do i think that has anything to do with why he seemingly favors Twi. He was a kid, I don’t think anyone understood what was happening. I think if Wind had never spoken up, Time never would’ve known

(also Timeline Talk 1):

but thanks for sharing your perspective! It’s always interesting to see the different ways we see the same character :) /gen

[missycolorful]

I'm on the fence about a lot of the "glass child" discussion because where I agree with some points that are made and enjoy the in depth analysis, I've come to severely disagree with others. Mostly because the internet is the internet, and the nuanced discussion has lost that nuance.

The reason this whole thing blew up (though it's been a concern for a while, certainly) was when Phil explained why he felt he needed to save Tallulah first before Chayanne. And you could tell Philza was trending cautious waters with his wording - he never wanted to say "oh, Chayanne's a chad, he'll get over it." With his wording, he recognized that neither were necessarily fine, but he still felt it necessary to prioritize one over the other because of one of his kid's big issues: Tallulah has abandonment issues. Maybe they're not as bad now since the "official adoption," but it certainly shouldn't be disregarded. But Phil remembers how much Tallulah hates being left alone, and wanted to make sure she wasn't in that situation long. Phil knew at the of the day, that Chayanne had no severe abandonment issues (that we are aware of), hence him saying he'd be okay "a bit longer." The prioritization is still there, and the Death family still has much to talk about, but the fandom's reactions felt a bit too... harsh, a bit too severe. They'd make it sound like Phil didn't consider Chayanne's feelings at all or that he thought Chayanne was totally going to be 100% okay with being alone forever and ever. When there's more to it than that, and ultimately, Phil was stuck making a decision in a lose-lose situation, and he knew that.

But a lot of people seem to focus solely on this moment, and let it epitomize the entirety of the Death Family's relationship and struggles. When, if anything, there's additional moments from yesterday's stream alone that I think show some slow growth in Philza's parenting when it comes to him being overprotective of Tallulah and him expecting a protector/warrior out of Chayanne.

Because if Phil really thought Chayanne was a ruthless warrior who can handle anything and be fine and get over it, he'd have let Chayanne immediately join them in their journey of saving Richarlyson. Like "If we've got Chayanne with us, nothing can hold us back" or something. But he didn't. He wanted both of his children to stay back, to stay safe. But his kids insisted on joining, even if just for emotional support. And if Phil really was completely stuck in his old ways, he'd say the old "Chayanne protect your sister" when the mobs starting showing up, or hell, even before that. But that never once happens. Both of his kids fight, and he trusted that they could both handle themselves since they insisted on coming along, though you can see him check on both of his kids once or twice during the fight. If this becomes a persistent thing, it shows great growth in Phil's character when it comes to being overprotective of his daughter and having his son prioritize her safety above all else. It's become more of "keep an eye on each other," which is definitely the preferrable kind of thinking!

And again, I emphasize that singular moments should not be the sole focus of these discussion. Rather, the overall actions throughout should be talked about. And honestly, Phil made sure that a lot of his focus was divided between both of his children throughout yesterday. When Chayanne decided to stay behind while the others went to the beach event to keep an eye on an AFK Tubbo, Phil decided to "hang about with you, kid, it's alright," even when Tallulah was long gone. Like, he wasn't going to let his kid sit alone like that waiting! Or when he got the llama plushie during the treasure hunt, I'd honestly have expected him to immediately give it to Tallulah because animals=Tallulah, I guess. But he asked them both which of them would have liked it more, a genuine attempt to make sure neither felt left out in receiving the gift. Yes, these, too, are small moments, but if we wanna have a discussion about these relationships, all these moments should at least be considered, not just the negatives.

And to me, the kind of consensus to make in these scenarios is that the situation at hand is... complicated. Like, Phil's parenting is flawed, I'd be a fool to say otherwise. All parenting is inherently flawed, that's basic psychology or... just how humans work. However, through his faults, he tries everything he is able to to do best by these kids. So, with all these moments and more, it never sat right with me to say Phil neglects Chayanne. I can almost see the case for "emotional neglect" a bit more, but even then, I find some fault in that thinking. Yes, qPhil is neurodivergent af, so he doesn't get emotional context clues and needs these discussion to be upfront in his face (which I already went into depth here regarding the relationship these two have). Put simply, any "emotional neglect" Chayanne feels isn't necessarily from Phil prioritizing Tallulah, but more so where Tallulah is more open with her feelings which makes it easier for Phil to talk to her about them, Chayanne has rarely ever been someone who opens up about feelings, and when you couple that with Phil's lack of emotional intelligence, these issues clash. However, it's important to note that a while ago, Chayanne had an open dialogue with Philza about Tubbo's death and how it affected him, and Phil was responsive to it. It'd be one thing if he told Chay to get over it, but no, he was very honest and kind to Chayanne during their talk. And afterward, Phil suggested for Chayanne that, if he ever needs to talk, to have them sit at the pier outside of their house. He extended an offering to Chayanne for emotional discussions. It was a great way for both of these people who are terrible at talking about their emotions to come together and talk. It highlights how Phil is very much okay with talking to Chayanne on an emotional level, and he has, and he will continue to be. They're just... both bad at it, sadly.

Finally, I think it's important to clarify what a glass child actually is, and if it fits the current narrative. A glass child is a child who is overlooked when their sibling is facing some sort of disability that makes the parent give the sibling their full attention, and often has the glass child help out a lot. Initially, Tallulah very much needed extra care due to her "asthma" and the fact she wasn't a great fighter who could protect herself. Hence why Phil and Chayanne were so overprotective of her and put a lot of focus on her. And for the longest time, Chayanne was okay with it, because she needed that help to survive on this hellish island. It's just that over time, things changed. These characters changed.

So it's not really like that for Tallulah now, is it? Her asthma is no longer as bad (it still happens, though!), and she's gained a lot of fighting experience over time. She can hold her own in a fight. And Phil no longer keeps that much of a paranoid eye on her; i.e. again, yesterday's stream where, even when they were fighting end monsters, he never shouted for her to get away or for Chayanne to protect her. In the early days, if Tallulah was even allowed to join, he'd have her stand back and ask Chayanne to keep an eye on her. But that doesn't happen here.

So nowadays? No, I don't think Chayanne could be considered a glass child. Because those disabilities aren't as much of a hindrance for Tallulah as they used to, and Phil isn't as paranoid about them as before. I think the effects are still there, in a way, but it doesn't fit where the characters currently stand. Ultimately, I think there are several reasons as to why things are as they are even if Chayanne may not be a glass child in the present. The big one being that Phil's not entirely adapted to the changes his children have gone through.

Especially after Purgatory, his children have gone through a lot and changed in the process; Tallulah became more independent, and Chayanne kind of being tired of being a warrior and needing more emotional support. And since he wasn't there to witness that change and only saw the aftermath, I think it's a struggle for him to come to terms with them. However, that doesn't mean he's entirely set in old ways. He's trained Tallulah on PVP, and again, he's allowed her to participate in fights without being super worried. And as I mentioned, he has extended a branch for Chayanne to be more open with his feelings. These are just starts, certainly, but it means that Phil is open to adapting and helping both of his kids in any way they need. He just has to figure out what they need.

And let me be clear: I'm not disregarding the flaws in q!Phil's parenting. They exist, and Chayanne really needs to have an open discussion about how his emotional needs haven't quite been met as of recent, and Phil needs to be more open to have emotional discussions with Chayanne, even if to them, that's like pulling teeth. There's changes and improvements that need to be made. However, in talking about the negatives, it just seems like people think that's all there is. No, these flaws in Phil's parenting doesn't make him a bad parent. Because there are plenty of positives, plenty of decent growth here. There's love and respect and everything in this family. q!Phil is genuinely doing his best in a very difficult scenario: living on an island that is set on killing the eggs, and being a parent of two while basically being a single parent all while struggling with your own traumas. that's going to come with obstacles, it's inevitable, but what's also inevitable is how this family will work through them, and come out of this better than before.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

i DEFINITELY want more Frat Boy Sukuna!!! 😍😍😍😍

Oh man, you're twisting my arm so hard here nonnie, what ever will I do?

I guess I'm just going to have to post some headcanons and frame work I have for the up coming part 2 (Of which you can get on the tag list for it: here!) Oh! And if you want a refresher, you can find Seven Minuets in Heaven Here!

Now Presenting...

Some supplemental reading if you will ;)

Ok, lets start with just some basic information on our boy

Hes in the Alpha Beta Omega frat, or the ABO frat. The entire Frat is very quick to point out they’ve been around longer than ABO when you bring it up, minus Ryomen. 

He just tells you he’s an Alpha and asks if you’re trying to be his Omega. It normally gets whatever reaction he wants

He’s majoring in business against his will (Remember this: It will come up) with a minor in he’s really about: History

If taking over his fathers very lucrative business (Again: This will come back up later) fails, he wants to be a history teacher.

He often bonds with Nanami over hating their shared major and being annoyed with Gojo and Geto making out in the most inconvenient places.

He sells drugs on the side to supplement his income, but nothing harder than weed because “Weeds not even a drug when you think about it.”

Is known for being the biggest manslut in the manslut frat. But hey, at least he gets tested regularly. 

Ok, so now I want to start with a little bit of his background because it informs a lot about how I characterize him.

He’s Yuji’s older brother by about 4 years. Both of them look almost exactly like their father. The man really said Ctrl C, Ctrl V, Ctrl V. 

Their father left when they were 7 and 3 respectively. Yuji doesn’t remember, but Ryomen very clearly remembers how horrible their father was to their mother. To him, it was a relief when that asshole finally abandoned the family for good.

The family moved in with their Grandpa, who was one of the very old school “I will only tell my kids I love them on my death bed” types. He also died when the boys were only 13 and 9.

Meaning our boy never really had a good role model for how to perform masculinity, and now that he’s an adult he finds himself pretending to be the type of man media told him he was supposed to be. Somewhere between Tyler Durden and Joey Tribbiani. He doesn’t think he’s very good at this performance. 

The moment he turned 16, he started getting piercings to try and look less like his dad. The moment he turned 18 he got his tattoos to really separate himself from his father. Yuji thinks it’s insane, but Ryomen thinks it’s worth it to be able to look in the mirror without wanting to punch it.

His father reached out to him his senior year of high school. He offered to pay for 100% of Sukuna’s college tuition, as long as he majored in business and took over the “family” company once he graduated.

Yea, turns out dear old dads new wife couldn’t conceive, and his smoking had finally caught up with him in the form of lung cancer. Faced with an inevitable death, he was desperate for an heir. 

Ryomen may have despised his father with everything in his being, but he realized how stupid it would be to throw away not only a free education, but also a guaranteed career. So he agreed.

OKAY now that that’s outta the way, let’s get into how he is in a relationship 😈

You are his first real relationship. He’s had “relationships” that lasted officially about 2 weeks at the longest. He’s had a plethora of situationships where he’d make promises he had no intention to keep. But as far as actually, serious, relationships you’re number one. 

And genuinely this new emotion kinda scares the shit out of him. The first time he got love pangs he thought he was having a panic attack, the first time you brushed him off he felt like he shattered. this shit sucks yo, no wonder the Greeks thought it was a mental illness.

He has no idea how to properly love someone, he’s winging this shit: Doing everything entirely based on vibes

In his past “relationships” the moment conflict arose, he would leave. He doesn’t want to do that to you though, so head it is.

I’m not joking, the moment you have an issue he’s taking you to bed to try and distract you. And he’s always shocked when you still want to, ya know, communicate about issues you’re having after the fact. And he’s always even more shocked when you don’t just leave the moment conflict arises. 

Did I mention he has no real concept of how healthy relationships work?

He’s trying though. He’s trying harder to make this work than he’s trying to keep his grades up. 

Often catches himself flirting with other girls without even realizing it, it’s just second nature to him. He’ll always disengage the moment he realizes

Oh he’s jealous. Oh he’s so jealous. He sees you just talking to another guy and he’s spiraling in his head. He’s immediately getting involved and planting hickies on your neck right in front of whoever you’re talking to, because you’re his god damn it.

As such he loves to buy you jewelry. His dad’s got fuck you money, and he plans to spend it all on you. His current favorite thing to see you wear it a dainty, golden chain, with a ruby encrustedfrat b R hanging from it. It looked gorgeous on you, and marked you as undeniably his. 

Suguru has 1000% had to talk him out of getting a tattoo of your name, this man is down so unbelievably bad. He’s never really been in love before, and now that he’s feeling it he’s overwhelmed by it.

This man really thought he was above getting pussy drunk until he hooked up with you. Now he realizes he’s is Not. At. All immune to it, and is actually quite prone to it!

Ultimately, his goal is to marry you after graduation, even though his fraternity brothers are highly against it. Not because they don’t like you, quite the contrary, they love you! But they all know that marrying your first love probably isn’t the move, and that the two of you have a lot of problems to work through. They want him to at least wait a few years before popping the question.

Still, every once in awhile he catches himself looking at rings and day dreaming about the future.