#sitting in my bed rewinding moments of the past years as one does

[hematomes]

im never getting involved with a straight guy ever again

[sunflowervoltwentyeight]

Happy 28th! Here is my May 2024 fic rec, organized by word count, from longest to shortest. You can view my other fic recs here. Enjoy!

We Were Such Fools by kiddle / @bluejeanlouis (98k)

Rule #1: The Rewind Machine cannot be used to change the past, only to experience it. History will reset itself to the original timeline every 24 hours.

On his fiftieth birthday, two things are consuming Harry’s mind: what he’s going to make the kids for dinner tonight, and the fact that his marriage is crumbling at his feet.

So, when his best friend gifts him the trip of a lifetime, Harry chooses to venture off to the summer that set his life on its course—all the way back in 1987, California.

It only took him one summer to fall in love with his husband the first time around. How hard could starting all over really be?

Once Bitten and Twice Shy Series by pinkcords / @pinkcords (60k)

once bitten and twice shy (19k) This time as his stomach rolls, there’s no doubt about it. He’s going to vomit. And if he does, it’ll be on Louis’ shoes, a nice little parting gift to go with the embarrassment he’s caused the both of them. “I’m gonna throw up,” he says just as Louis turns to look at him, blue eyes swimming with shock and confusion, and asks, “Is that true?” Or, in a rush of bravery only senior year can bring, Harry confesses his feelings in a letter to his neighbor and best friend, Louis, only for the entire school to hear it and laugh him out of their small town in Wisconsin. Ten years later, Harry's a successful lawyer at Columbia Records, coming home for Christmas for the first time since he departed for college. He plans to work his way through the trip, eat his mom's cooking, and avoid everyone from his past for as long as possible. The only problem is best laid plans hardly ever go as intended. These Stars Will Guide Us Home (41k) And then he’s gonre. Harry watches him take off his shoes, sort his belongings into bins, and keeps watching until he vanishes entirely, around the corner to his gate. Louis doesn’t look back and Harry can’t blame him, certain his expression, body language, entire being would implore him to stay. It would just make it more difficult on both of them. Louis’ always been intuitive like that, strong enough to make the hard decisions that protect both of them. Or Harry lives in New York and Louis lives in Wisconsin.

Cabin Fever by germericangirl / @germericangirl (46k)

“What the fuck is he doing here?“ He asked still looking at him, before he turned back to look at Niall for an answer.

Niall’s mouth fell open and he looked at him with wide eyes "He um changed his mind?“

Harry stared at Niall for a few seconds in silence, before grabbing a bag and walking towards a bedroom without looking at anyone else, slamming the door shut behind himself.

Liam flinched in front of Louis.

“Well I’m happy to see you too.“ Louis mumbled, some of the tension leaving his body. This wasn’t exactly how he thought their first meeting would go. It was quiet for a moment before Louis finally spoke up “Did you seriously not tell him I was coming?“

Or:

One cabin, one bed, two ex-boyfriends. What could possibly go wrong?

You, In Every Color by blueskiesrry / @blueskiesrry (38k)

But then he thinks of the soft curves and sharp angles he had imagined when he first drew up the sketches for the collection, the specific green of fabric he had picked with the thought of how they’d saturate green eyes, the glossy silks and soft velvets he had once pictured sitting delicately against milky skin.

“We’re drunk,” Louis decides on a sigh. “We shouldn’t make any drastic decisions now.”

or: fashion designer louis and his model bf harry have vowed to never work together again, but with the show for louis’ first solo line on the horizon, they decide to give it another shot

We'll Be Alright by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove (36k)

"Lou, I know this-"

"Not plan? Of course, this wasn't planned. Harry, this can't be happening. We can't have a kid. We are not even supposed to be sleeping together."

Harry flinched at Louis' words. He was right, but Louis didn't need to be blunt about it.

"I'm not ready to have kids. I said that when we started this… Relationship," Louis stuttered the last word, trying to find the proper wording.

"Do you think I am? I'm not even twenty-four. You are almost twenty-nine! You're at the age where most people start a family."

"Doesn't mean I want to have one!" Louis snapped.

"Well, it's happening," Harry said, trying to keep his voice calm.

"Be serious, Harry. We can't have a baby. If people find out, you'll be fired."

Harry subconsciously wrapped his arms around his middle. He suddenly felt small. He didn't expect Louis to be excited. This wasn't the best news for their situation, but he thought he'd be happy.

"I know, Louis."

Or Louis is the Captian of Liverpool FC and Harry is one of the team's physiotherapists. They have a secret relationship going but things become complicated when Harry finds out he's pregnant.

Host of a Name by Signofcomfort / @signofcomfort (35k)

Louis leaves the band in the middle of the tour and drops off the face of the earth. Five years later, they might have a chance to meet him. Harry can finally have some answers and tell the truth for the first time.

Cabin on the Bluff Series by juliusschmidt / @juliusschmidt (6k)

Beech Tree in Autumn (1k) Louis walks forward. Harry walks back. And back. And back. Off the two track, through the brush, until his heel bangs against the trunk of a tree. Louis presses further still. Without so much as a, 'hello,' he's kissing Harry, hard and hungry. Mosquito Bites and Cheap Beer (2k) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. But then the sky behind Louis begins to shift, clouds morphing from piles of gold-tinged wool to scoops of pink and orange sherbet. And at some point, Harry forgets-- forgets not to watch. And when he catches himself, it’s fine. Louis’ watching him right back. Sandwiches on the Shady Shore (2k) “You don’t have to do this,” Louis says. It’s hot in the little kitchen, even with the windows open and a breeze blowing in. Harry feels a flush enfold him from the inside out. “I know,” he says. And then, because he’s already showed up embarrassingly early in the day and made Louis a cheese sandwich, he adds, “I wanted to.”

Trust Me to Take You Home by hattalove / @hattalove (4k)

“I made breakfast,” says Harry, and Louis can feel him smile where his face is smushed against Louis’s shoulder blade. “Full English. All for you.” Louis finally opens his eyes, and blinks. “What about the others?” “Asleep,” Harry whispers, “it’s five in the morning.”

or, a clichéd tale of two boys in love and their first valentine's day together.

[spencers-renaissance]

I turn and reach for you

Summary: Three months after Hankel, Spencer starts getting terrible nightmares that keep him up at night. He tries desperately to keep his secret until one day when it's all too much to bear anymore. Luckily, Derek Morgan is there to hold him together as he falls apart.

Tags: nightmares, hurt/comfort, ptsd, angst with a happy ending, fluff, literal sleeping together, getting together, post-revelations TW: past non-con drug use mentioned once in passing

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist // Read on AO3 // Bad Things Happen Bingo

This feels the "Nightmares" square on my Bad Things Happen bingo card, and was written for this prompt by @i-write-whump. Title from a poem by Devon Strang.

After Spencer is kidnapped by Tobias Hankel, he stays with Derek. Nobody on the team wants him to be alone, and he’s always felt the most comfortable with him, so it makes sense. Besides, he’s got the space.

Spencer sometimes wonders whether the team pushed so hard for it because they genuinely believed that, logistically, Derek was the best option, or because they could also see the slow-burning romance simmering under the surface of their relationship. They’ve always had a special friendship, but Spencer can feel the growing tension: the deep and intense looks they share mid-case, the lingering touches on backs and arms, the affection leaking into each ‘pretty boy’ and every ‘Der’.

Perhaps if Hankel never came into the picture they’d already be together — it really had felt like they were on the precipice of something special — but it’s three months later and Spencer’s still sleeping in the spare room; there’s still just as much will they, won’t they lingering in the air between them.

He tries not to mind too much. After all, he’s never had so much free access to the man he’s pined after for years now, and they’re living in each other’s pockets. Almost every waking hour is spent in one another’s company: they cook together, eat together, watch films together, and neither of them are showing any sign of getting sick of it. But every time they’re cooking pasta and Derek says something ridiculous, Spencer wishes he was allowed to lean in and kiss the tip of his nose; every time they sit down to watch something together, he wishes he could burrow into his side and rest his head in the crook of his neck.

(Sometimes, Spencer wishes he could rewind to the weeks immediately after the Hankel incident when Derek would carry him around the flat to keep him off his broken feet; when he could press his face into his shoulder and inhale the scent of complete and utter safety.)

It’s almost torturous, being so close yet so far.

He isn’t quite sure why the nightmares start so late. The nights during the first couple of months are blissfully dreamless, so exhausted from the physical and emotional trauma that sleep was a tantalising escape, but once he’s back in the field, once normal life resumes, everything changes.

The first time he wakes up sweating and panting, heart pounding as he tries to convince himself that he’s no longer in Hankel’s clutches but is safe and sound in Derek’s apartment, he dismisses it as a one-off. He hasn’t had nightmares yet, so why should they start now? He doesn’t go back to sleep that night, too shaken to relax back into the comforting embrace of sleep, too afraid of deception: that he wouldn’t sleep dreamlessly but that the nightmare would be waiting for him once again.

The second time worries him. He gets up this time and gets a glass of water as quietly as possible, leaning with his back against the kitchen counter as he ponders what this could mean for him. The thing is, they’re so incredibly vivid. It really feels like he’s back at the mercy of a three-in-one torturer armed with drugs and belts and guns, genuinely unsure of whether he’ll ever see his family again. He doesn’t go back to sleep this time, either, instead pacing around the living room until Derek wakes up. He lies that he’s only been up for half an hour, and Derek believes him.

The third time solidifies for Spencer the fact that this is a problem. Three is a pattern, everybody knows that, and Spencer spends the rest of the night scouring the internet for studies conducted around delayed trauma responses and discovers the prevalence of delayed-onset PTSD. He’s tempted to contact a professor he met during his third PhD who specialised in the psychology of trauma, but he thinks better of it. Admitting these nightmares would be admitting defeat.

This is something he has to deal with alone.

(He ignores the truth that it’s more fear than anything else that keeps him from telling anyone: fear of being seen as weak, fear of nothing changing, fear of voicing his trauma out loud. It’s easier to pretend it’s about independent agency.)

It doesn’t affect him too much at first. Sure, he’s scared to go to sleep and he sweats so profusely that it soaks through his bedsheets almost every night, but he’s managing. He’s okay. He contributes just as much to their profiles and takes down unsubs without flinching. He dances around Derek like they have done for over a year, and he sits through Dr Who marathons with Penelope just fine. So what if he’s a bit tired? He’s stared down some of America’s Most Wanted and interviewed famous serial killers, he can cope with a little fatigue.

It doesn’t stay that easy for long.

Soon everybody’s asking about the bags under his eyes, his slower reaction times when they visit the gun range, his twitchiness around the team.

“Are you sleeping okay, Spencer?” Penelope asks him one day, brushing a curly lock of hair behind his ears as they sit side by side on the sofa next to a conked out Derek.

He can’t nod his head quick enough. “Yeah! Yes, uh. Yes, Penelope, I’m sleeping fine, I promise,” he says as convincingly as he can, flashing her a smile. He hates lying to her, but he can’t let anyone find out, he just can’t.

Slowly, he begins losing his grip on reality. He’s almost delusional from the sleep deprivation, and he starts seeing Hankel everywhere he goes. He’s stood behind the fridge door, in the foyer of the FBI Headquarters, in the toilets of a local police station, stood right behind the unsub they’re currently trying to talk down, goddamnit.

He’s beyond exhausted, but some nights he still refuses to sleep, too afraid of what awaits him in his dreams, too afraid of the fear he knows he’ll carry into the next day, too afraid of feeling weak again. Helpless. Completely and utterly without agency.

He sits up with his back against the headboard, the main light off but the lamp switched on, scrolling through as many scholarly articles as he can read in a night, drinking cup after cup of steaming black coffee. Most nights he makes it through till morning without sleeping a wink, but sometimes he can’t stop himself from drifting off The nightmares on those nights are the worst.

He isn’t okay and people are starting to notice. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around him right now, but he knows it won’t be long before Penelope organises an intervention that Hotch hosts and Derek directs. The worst part about it is that he feels like a trainwreck waiting to happen. He’s headed straight for complete and utter collapse, and the only possible way to stop the train in its tracks is to reach out and get help, the one thing he can’t get himself to do.

And he isn’t even really sure why.

It all comes to a head on a warm night in July. He’d fallen into bed that night deliberately, actually intending to sleep for once. The bone-deep tiredness had finally caught up to him and he didn’t even care that he was walking straight into the arms of Tobias Hankel, if it meant he got even an iota of refreshing sleep, then it would be worth it.

But he isn’t quite of the same mind when he wakes up at two in the morning like he does almost every night: soaked in sweat with his heart going a million beats per minute, with only one difference. Tonight, he’s crying.

Maybe it’s the emotional turmoil of the last few months catching up to him, or maybe it’s just the severity of this particular dream, but whatever it is, he can’t seem to stop even once he’s awake. Sobs wrack his shoulders as he cries miserably into the pillow, finally letting out the emotions he’s kept bottled up so tightly, and he’s almost wailing after a couple of minutes of anguish.

All he can think as he cries helplessly is how badly he wants Derek. He wants to be wrapped up in his strong and safe embrace, he wants to feel the movement of his soft goatee against his cheek, he wants to inhale the comforting scent of his sleep t-shirts, he wants the warmth and solace that only Derek Morgan can give him, and in that moment, emotionally distraught and so incredibly sleep-deprived, he decides to get it.

He stumbles out of his bedroom and down the hall, stopping once he reaches Derek’s door. He hesitates for only a second before he pushes it open slowly, allowing the light from the lamp they keep switched on in the hallway to gently illuminate the shadows of his bedroom.

“Spencer?” Derek asks groggily, immediately sitting up and wiping his eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you crying?”

At the acknowledgement of his tears, Spencer starts to cry harder, and as embarrassed as he feels, he can’t slow the steady stream of tears rolling down his face as he stands in the doorway like a child in their parents’ room.

“Spence,” Derek says again, gentle and sympathetic, “come here.” He lifts the duvet up and scooches over slightly as if to make room for him in his already spacious king-size bed.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, though, and he stumbles forward, collapsing into bed and wrapping himself around Derek instantly. His arms come up to circle Spencer’s waist, caressing him gently as he holds him close to his body, shushing him quietly.

“It’s okay, Spence,” he murmurs. “I’m here now, alright? We’re gonna fix whatever it is, I promise you. We’ll get through this. You’ll get through this.”

He lets himself cry and cry and cry until his tears are dried up and he’s hiccupping from the force of his sobs. He would feel terrible about the damp spot left on Derek’s t-shirt, but he simply doesn’t have the energy. Instead, he continues to lie there on Derek’s chest, listening to his softly spoken assurances and losing himself in the sensation of Derek’s fingertips caressing the skin of his waist.

After a couple of minutes of silence, interrupted only by the odd hiccup from Spencer’s tired lungs, Derek finally asks the question. “What was that all about, pretty boy?” he asks with a tenderness Spencer isn’t sure he’s ever heard before. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Been having nightmares,” Spencer whispers, keeping his eyes closed against Derek’s imploring gaze.

He feels Derek tense beneath him, his fingers briefly pausing before resuming their comforting patterns on his waist, and a heavy breath escapes his lips. “For how long?”

“Last couple of months,” he mumbles, and somehow another tear manages to escape Spencer’s screwed up eyes.

“Well,” Derek sighs, “I suppose that explains a lot. We’ve been so worried about you, Spencer. We had no idea what was going on but we could all see you withdrawing, and it wasn’t exactly a secret how exhausted you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” Derek says sadly. “I should’ve pushed harder to figure out what was going on with you. I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this all alone.”

“I didn’t know how to tell anyone,” Spencer says, suddenly desperate to explain as he shifts slightly to look Derek in the eye. “I was so scared and I didn’t want anyone to think that I was weak or I couldn’t do my job anymore, and I just didn’t know what to do.”

“I know, Spence,” Derek says soothingly, “but you’ve told me now, haven’t you? And I’m going to do everything I can to get you some help. We’ll fix this, baby. I promise you, I’m going to make sure you’re happy and healthy again if it’s the last thing I do, okay?”

Spencer sniffs a little, wiping tiredly at his eyes as he blinks up at the sincerity on Derek’s face. For the first time in far too long he manages a smile. “Okay.”

Derek runs a hand through his hair before dropping a kiss to the top of his head. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”

Spencer’s smile widens and he buries his face in Derek’s chest again as his cheeks flush red. “Please.”

Months later, they’ll realise they never officially asked one another to be in an actual, exclusive relationship. Months later, they’ll know instinctively and with absolute certainty that this night was the night that changed everything for them, and exactly one year later, they’ll celebrate their first anniversary on that date.

Tonight, though, they sleep curled up next to one another in Derek’s bed, and although Spencer doesn’t fall into the same dreamless sleep he grew used to immediately after Hankel, for once he isn’t haunted by nightmares, but dreams inflected with hope for what the future holds for them, and he’ll take that over dreamlessness any day.

taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @lesbiantodds @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @negativefouriq @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @livrere-blue @hotchseyebrows @enbyspencer @reidology @transhanniballecter @spencerspecifics @bau-gremlin @hotchedyke @tobias-hankel @ @marsjareau @garcias-bitch @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @reidreids @ropoto @thosecriminalminds (add yourself to my taglist)

[boldlyvoid]

ain't it fun? | part two

Part Two

summary: reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

warnings: falling in love, fluff, hurt/comfort, implied/referenced smut, non-descriptive

a/n: so glad you liked part 1 I couldn't help myself from continuing

word count: 3k

from the beginning

She’s laying in his bed, one of his friends showed up early and she’s pretending she’s not there. But his friend brought breakfast and it smells good and she’s starving.

After crewing the hell out of her lip and 5 minutes of hyping herself up; she gets up off the bed, still in her sweater and shorts from their movie night, and she slowly opens the bedroom door, peaking out to see if Spencer was in view.

“Hello?” A friendly man spots her, standing as he makes his way to shake her hand. “I’m Derek.”

“Y/N,” she smiles.

“Pleasure to meet you,” he smiles back. “What’s going on here?” He gestures to her and then back to Spencer as he exits the kitchen and sees her.

“We watched star trek all night, if you don’t believe me I can make him recount it to you from memory?” Y/N replies, smirking like she knows him just as well as his friend.

“And how might you know Spencer?” Derek teases right back.

“He’s my best friend in the whole world,” she replies like it’s nothing, “and I live across the hall.”

Derek shoots a look at Spencer that’s almost proud, almost emotional, like a mom who heard she’s going to be a grandma, “Is that true?”

Spencer blushes, “she’s my best friend.”

“Tell me how this all happened!” Derek is more than excited, sitting down on the couch with a wide grin as he waits to hear more.

“Um, we met in the hall, we have the same interests and now we watch movies together and have sleepovers with candy and popcorn, like we’re 13-year-old girls? I’ve even braided his hair,” she avoids the real reason why they met. Unsure if Spencer has told anyone about his drug problem or not.

“And now I’m going to go finish sleeping in my own bed,” she makes awkward finger guns at the door accompanied by her most awkward smile and she’s off.

Spencer follows her out into the hall, closing the door and looking at her apologetically; “I’m sorry, I won’t tell him anything more about us if you don’t want me to?”

“Us?” She questions? “You tell me you love me a lot, but you’ve never told me who you want me to be to you… I want you to think about that and then come and see me later.”

“Can I have a kiss? It helps me think better,” he whispers as he leans in.

She rolls her eyes, playfully, leaning in as well until their lips meet. It’s soft and sweet and she wishes there could be more, but for now she has to go.

Once she’s inside, she leans against the door of her apartment and listens to see when he goes back inside. Only what she hears is even better, “Derek, I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can go ask her to be my girlfriend.”

He shoos the man from his apartment, avoiding all his questions and convincing him to finally leave by saying, “you’ve been telling me for months that I need to get over it, and now you’re going to stand here and stop me from telling her I love her, again?”

“Again?”

“Derek!”

“Fine.”

And then he’s knocking on her door, “who is it?” She teases.

“Y/N, open the door, please?” He begs without a single regret behind his tone.

She opens it slowly, “yes?”

He tilts his head with a look that screams; ‘come on?’

But she looks back at him as if to say; ‘what about it?'

“Are you really going to make me say it?”

“The first step in getting help is admitting you have a problem.”

He laughs at the absurdity, “you’re kidding?”

“Spencer, even though you’re a pain in my ass; would you like to be my boyfriend? I’m asking because the words make it real, and I would like you to really know how I feel, thanks for coming,” she extends her arm into the apartment, gesturing for him to walk in and he does so with a laugh.

“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he responds once the door is closed. “I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t want this to be real?”

She can tell he’s not sure why he’s apologizing, “I need confirmation. I can’t sleep in your bed almost every night for a month, and just have to guess if I’m allowed to call you my boyfriend when my mom calls and asks why I won't text her back at night.”

“Oh,” he looks upset. “I thought that by telling you that I love you that it would work, but I understand. I really would like to be your boyfriend and be yours for however long you’ll have me.”

Her heart melts in her chest, he's so nervous and shy because he truly means it. His heart is in her hands now, “how long are you available?”

“Forever.”

“I have more questions,” she whispers as she moves closer, pressing their bodies together as she holds his sides and he holds her shoulders.

“Okay.”

“What did you mean out there, and also sorry for listening, but I’d like to know…”

“It’s okay,” his words are soft. “I’m um, a virgin?”

“Oh?” Her eyes shoot wide open, “I was expecting like an ex who broke your heart?”

“Oh no, I’ve never… I don’t... no,” he shakes his head profusely. “I’m not in a rush either, I just wanted him to leave me alone. That’s not what I’m in here for.”

She smiles, “I am too…” she whispers, “I’m really glad you are too, actually.”

“You’ve thought about it?”

“Think, big brain, go back to right before I closed my door that first night…” she teases him before making a fake VHS tape rewind sound that always makes him laugh.

“You wanted to leave the group because you can’t sleep with members while you’re healing,” he smirks at his recollection, “I mean, other than the general attraction, have you thought about the possibility of that happening for us one day?”

She nods again, “one day, I’m cool just making out with you for now, actually. But yes. I would like for you to be my first because I trust you the most out of every single person I’ve ever met.”

He looks like his heart is exploding as his grip on her shoulders tightens, “I would like for you to be mine too, eventually.”

“Eventually,” she repeats with a small smile, leaning in for another small kiss.

“Derek left without his breakfast, and he didn't even get a chance to touch it yet…” Spencer whispers against her lips.

She laughs through her nose, kissing him once more before pulling away, “come on, boyfriend.”

—

She’s been in Quantico for 5 months, 3 of which she’s now spent with Spencer.

She’s laying beside him as they watch star trek and her mind is off in space. She can’t focus on anything other than the thought of her rent coming due and how she’s probably going to have to decide if she wants to leave after her 6-month lease is up.

“Spence,” she whispers, “do you know any other cheap apartment buildings in the area?”

“Why?”

She turns to face him, the yellows, reds and blues flash across the screen and illuminate him lightly, “I don’t have enough money to keep living here, and I don’t want to move back in with my parents.”

“Would you like to move in with me?” He asks carefully, “don’t feel pressured to say yes, it’s just I’m never really here and I don’t want you to leave.”

She smiles at the offer, “If I move in I have to tell the disability people, and then my disability money will change because you make so much and they still believe that men own women when they get together, like some what's yours is mine, shit.”

“Really?”

She nods, “yeah. They'll want to know how much you make every month when I get my statement and then they decide what I deserve because if you’re making money, clearly I’m taken care of, right?”

He can hear her sarcasm and he knows it's just to mask the hurt, and she can tell by the way his whole face changes.

“Wrong,” Spencer is oddly defensive. “That is so wrong, there are so many women in this country trapped with terrible men who abuse them. They never see a single dime of the money that comes in, and if they have children they are lucky to receive money for groceries. I’ve seen all of it first hand, it’s horrific, and yet they still think they can take care of disabled women who are in more need of money than anyone else?”

“I love you.”

“What?” He stops, breathing, blinking, everything. He just stares at her as he comprehends it.

She hasn’t said it back yet.

“I love you.” She repeats it and smiles, tears welling in her eyes as she appreciates how much he really does care; how much he really gets it.

“Lie, tell them you’re back with your parents. It’s not like they check-up and then just stay here. Move your things in and make this your place too, do whatever you want to it, it deserves to be lived in.”

“You’re really serious?” She’s not sure why she’s so surprised, he’s been saying he loves her every single day for the last 2 months and 3 weeks.

She’s loved him the whole time, but she’s afraid of that at the same time because once she loves him out loud, then she loves him for real and that’s scary. He has a scary job and he’s never home and if she loves him then she has to deal with that and the fact he might not come home one day.

He nods gently, “I know you need a lot of space for your art supplies so move whatever you need to to make room. I think you’re magnificent, and I don’t think that you should feel held back, I'll do anything to help you with your little craft store.”

A tear slips past her eye and towards the pillow, she blinks as she smiles, unable to speak as she just appreciates his kindness, “I think when whatever is out there made your soul, they were like 'this one; he’s special, we’re only making one of him and he’s going to go through some shit, but it’s because someone else is too and they need each other.'”

Spencer’s smile grows, large and toothy as he moves in closer to hold her. Noses pressed together, they’re hugging basically now, arms wrapped around each other and legs tangled as they enjoy the moment. It’s so nice, there’s nothing left to say.

They’re content with each other.

—

She moves what she needs into Spencer’s apartment the next week, he’s out of town and it’s easier this way with him out of the way.

It’s easier to miss him in here though, everything smells like him and feels like him, and his personality is on every single wall. She wants him to come home so badly, living without him for random bouts of time was the worst part of their relationship.

The rest of her things are in boxes in her apartment, waiting by the door for when Spencer comes back. He offered to put everything in his old Volvo Amazon and meet her parents for the weekend and her mother was through the roof over it.

She has called 4 times in the last week to ask about all Spencer’s favourite meals, what he likes for breakfast most mornings and if he had any allergies. She’s cleaned the “guest” room, which was really just where she slept before, and she was very clear that he was allowed to sleep with her as long as no funny business happened.

That was the funny part.

They still weren’t doing it and she was fine with that, so was he. Neither of them was ready, emotionally nor physically. They’ve both been through some terrible things that make it very hard for them to want to share yet.

She loves him more this way, while the sex would probably be amazing and she knew they were both getting off anyway and they weren’t secretive about it, at all. They just didn’t do it together yet… and she was starting to want to.

The most they’ve done is the occasional mutual masturbation session and that was just when they were too lazy to do it when they were alone, earlier in the day, and just needed to in order to finally sleep. It was always quick, quicker than when she would do it alone because he was just so cute like that.

She found herself getting off to thoughts of him more than anything else the longer and longer they shared more and got to know each other.

Because while, yes, they live together and they’re dating; they’re still really just best friends and roommates. They don’t see each other as often as they want to, they have separate friend groups, she has meetings on the other side of town now and they’ve never even been on a date.

For how fast they looked to be moving to anyone who knew them, they were going extremely slow behind the scenes. The reality is, they were following the rules of addiction recovery more than the rules of society.

She wasn’t really ready to take on the emotional commitment of having sex with someone when she wasn’t really over her trauma. It went far deeper than just her addiction, there was more Spencer had no idea about and she wanted to make sure he knew everything before he met her parents.

So like always, they got into bed as soon as he returned and they had a cuddle conversation. It was soothing to not only feel the other person close, but they both stimmed by running their hands over something soft. He knew something was up as soon as he walked in the door and she asked for a cuddle before even saying hello.

He didn’t, however, expect the long-winded backstory of her childhood to be the issue. He was silent the whole time she explained, he cried with her as his cheek rested on her forehead and her tears fell onto his shirt below her face.

Learning his past was just as hard.

She cant imagine how no one could love him, no one took him in and offered him shelter and love and warmth. He deserved kindness and family. He was worth the world and then some to her, and it hurt so deeply to think of no one showing that to him. He’s spent the last 25 years just searching aimlessly for a single iota of respect.

No wonder he fell in love with her so easily.

—

The first time is terribly awkward but incredibly euphoric… and they cry after. Not from sadness or regret; no, they’re so in love and so happy with their choices, it’s more of an overwhelming overflowing of emotions that was bound to erupt along with them.

“This has to be the most vulnerable time in the entire world if you really think about it,” Spencer justifies why he’s crying as he starts to get anxious about being too much. “I mean we’ve already seen each other naked and know each other outside… we might as well share what's going on inside too.”

She nods against his sweaty chest, “I used to be really upset that my doctors put me on Dilaudid. I still hate that all this happened to us, but I’m really glad we don’t have to be alone anymore.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

It gets easier the more they do it. It’s still always hilariously awkward, they were so stupidly in love it translated into every moment; like when they attempted shower sex and knocked the curtain down and got water everywhere. Or the time they attempted a quickie in the bar bathroom and his boss walked in, and they had to try not to laugh or move or do anything as they made the most awkward, silent, eye contact ever, in the corner of the stall.

Being horny and awkward was the worst combination but they made it work pretty well.

He was tender and loving and he listened to instructions well. He was a quick learner, he was happy with whatever she wanted and he always, always, tried to finish last. (He wasn’t that lucky) but he was a truly nice guy.

She loved him more and more as the seconds passed. He was just so wonderful, he had his up and downs but they always had great communication, and he understood her unpredictability from her disabilities. The best part was that he loved her regardless of how she was when she woke up in the morning, and she always went to bed with either a kiss or a text proving he loved her.

Before they knew it, a year had passed and she was laying in his bed while he got ready for work. She loved watching his selection process, his colour coordinated closet and handy-dandy tie organization rack. He was so cute, and he always looked so amazing.

“I don’t want you to go in today,” she whispers with a pout.

He takes his phone off the dresser and calls in then, “yeah, Hotch I’m really not doing well. I don’t know what we ate last night but I— yeah thank you.”

He puts everything back in the closet and crawls right back into bed, he snuggled back in close and she smiled at her job well done. He didn’t need to be at work as often as he was, he had a lot of personal and sick days stored and they were always telling him to use them. He deserved a break for that beautiful brain of his, an 8-hour turnaround between psychopaths wasn’t good for anyone, especially not the 2nd most prized possession of the FBI.

“What do you do during the day when I’m not here?” He asked, genuinely not knowing how she occupied her time outside of his presence.

“I sleep until 11,” she whispers as she snuggles in closer.

He’s warm and cuddly and perfect. Naps in the morning are possibly the best periods of sleep someone can ever experience. It’s so relaxing to reward the body with more time, and it’s even better when it includes the perfect snuggle companion.

Taglist:

@g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @ssavanessa22 @spookyspence @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

[queerdiaz]

Eddie falling asleep with his head in Buck's lap or on his thigh as maybe Buck's looking down at him-? I don't know take it from pls. there

A/N: I know you completely forgotten about this prompt but I'm still sorry it's taken me so long lol.

That being said, thank you so much for the prompt anyways :)

ao3 version here

----

"Are you okay?" Buck asked as Eddie wiggled ever so slightly in his seat for what felt like the millionth time. 

"I'm fine." Eddie answered also for the millionth time. 

The blond rolled his eyes. This was getting out of hand. 

"Eddie." He gave his best friend, who was stubbornly staring ahead and pretending to watch the cartoon that Christopher had enthusiastically picked, a pointed look before sofly kicking his ankle. 

The other man jerked and swivelled his head to meet Buck's gaze. "Hey, what was that for?"

"Eds, you're hurting." 

Eddie huffed a quick, "I'm fine." 

Before he could protest Christopher chimed in from his current spot on the floor against the couch that he moved to earlier after being tired of bumping into his dad whenever they moved at the same time. "Daaaaad." He started to say before letting out an exasperated sigh that made him seem like an actual teenager and not just a pre-teen. "You're hurt."

Eddie opened his mouth to protest but then closed it before letting out a sigh of defeat. "My shoulder is just aching a little from sitting on the couch for too long. It's not that big of a deal."

Both Buck and Chris shared a long-suffering look, used to the older Diaz's stubbornness but still a little exasperated from having to deal with it more frequently the past few weeks. Although, they'd didn't complained because as long as Eddie was still alive that was all that mattered. 

"Eds," Buck began to tell him in a soft voice, "do you need to lay down?"

It was Eddie's turn to roll his eyes. "I'm fine." He repeated with emphasis. "I've been in that damn bed enough these past few weeks to last a lifetime."

"Eddie." Buck told him sternly, knowing that if Eddie was showing discomfort and talking about his shoulder bothering him then it must've really been hurting him and he didn't want his best friend to exasperate the wound and hurt even more.

"Buck." Eddie mocked.

"Donkey!" Christopher exclaimed, breaking the tension. 

The two men blinked at each other, looked at the ten year old who started to giggle, then looked back at each other before starting to laugh as well. 

After a few moments of laughter, Buck let out a soft sigh. "Eddie, I'm serious. If you need to, I can help you to bed."

His best friend gave him a fond smile which wasn't until recently that Buck had realized the full effect it had on him. "I know. And thank you for caring, like you always do. But it's almost Chris' bedtime anyways and I want to spend as much time with you guys out here as possible."

Buck sighed, always ending up giving in to Eddie. It had taken his best friend getting shot for him to realize exactly why he had that effect on Buck. "I know you do." He said ever so softly. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so overbearing. It's just..." He paused. 

"We worry about you." Christopher finished for him, patting his father's leg as he gave him a serious look. 

Eddie smiled down at his son. "I don't want you to worry, Mijo. That's my job."

"But dad, we do worry. It's what family does."

Eddie's smile brightened. "Well when you put it that way..." He then began to tickle his son, who's giggles echoed happily throughout the living room. 

However, the older Diaz could only tickle for a second or so before wincing in pain, although he did a pretty good job of hiding it. But Buck could tell how much his best friend was hurting. He always could. 

"Okay, that's it." Buck announced, moving closer to the end of the couch until his left side hit the arm. He then patted his thigh. "Come on."

Eddie's eyes widened ever so slightly, making Buck realize the innuendos that motion caused. 

He then cleared his throat. "Lay your head on my lap." 

Yeah that didn't sound quite better either. 

Buck then quickly added. "So you can finish the movie with me and Chris and be at least somewhat more comfortable."

Eddie gave him that small yet fond smile once more, eyes slightly widened as he looked at him in what seemed to be in awe. 

The blond shifted in his seat. "What?"

His best friend cleared his throat. "Nothing." His eyes then fell toward Buck's lap before travelling back to meet his gaze. "Are you sure?"

Buck rolled his eyes before patting his thigh again. "Of course. Come on, we're missing all the good parts."

Eddie's smile widened as he proceeded to lay down on the couch, his back against the cushions as his head tilted slightly to see the movie. 

Trying to help him be as comfortable as possible, Buck went to delicately rest his arm around Eddie's side so his bad shoulder could have more support. 

They surprisingly got settled in comfortable positions rather quickly as Christopher gave them a bright smile before turning his attention back on the tv and proceeding to rewind the little bit that they missed.

They watched the cartoon in a peaceful silence besides the laughter coming from all three of them at different points. It didn't take long for Buck to subconsciously begin to to rub small, soothing circles on Eddie's arm with one hand and softly run his fingers through Eddie's hair in the other. 

His best friend hitched a breath at first at the touch, which made Buck about to stop his small movements. But before he could, Eddie sunk further in the blond's hold, and let out a moan of contentment. 

"Hmmm. That's nice." He muttered, shifting his head ever so slightly so he could softly rub his nose against Buck's thigh, like a cat who was enjoying a head rub. 

And wow, okay. This was new. 

Though Buck could add it up to the list of small yet new and slightly alarming - but in a good way - things that Eddie had done since coming home from the hospital.

For a man who had gotten shot in broad daylight and almost… died, Eddie had surprisingly been... lighter in a way.

Even while he was struggling with dealing with having to only use one arm and needing other's help since Eddie always had a hard time asking for help. But at least with Buck he had been more open about it, more willing to tell the blond what he needed. Even though there were still plenty of times where Buck had to guess and not be told Eddie's needs, like just a few minutes prior. 

But, whenever Eddie would ask Buck for help and the blond immediately said "Of course" or when Buck gave him exactly what he needed at the moment without being asked, no matter what Eddie would always give him that fond smile. 

Buck had noticed it before that fateful day, but there was something about those fond looks that sorta...grew afterwards. A certain openness that always took his breath away. 

And then of course there were those lingering touches that Eddie had given him countless of times as well. 

Sure, Buck had been helping him with his PT exercises so of course they'd be touching a lot. But it wasn't just then. Like whenever Buck would hand Eddie something and their fingers would graze each other. Or whenever Eddie needed to walk pass Buck and his hand would press on his back for a moment. It was used to be where the touch would only last a milisecond but now it'd just linger there for a few secondw too long. In fact, whenever they'd accidentally touch - and that had been happening a lot in these past few weeks - Eddie would always just… linger there. And whenever he'd finally move away, he didn't look bashful or embarrassed or anything like that. No. He'd just give Buck this lingering, secretive smile that always made his stomach flutter, before going back to what he was doing and acting like he didn't just almost give Buck a heart attack with all of the palpitations that he caused. 

However, Buck would just try to tell himself that he was just overreacting and that it was just because his feelings for his best friend had been present more than ever and hard to keep in since the incident. That Eddie had always acted like that because they were best friends and close and that was what they did. Nothing changed except Buck temporarily moving in to help out which made everything seem more intimate than it really was. 

That was it. Nothing less. Nothing more. 

Well...besides the fact that Eddie had apparently put Buck in his will as Christopher's guardian if something were to happen to him. A fact that Eddie had kept to himself for a year. Something that Buck may or may not still be reeling from during these past few weeks. Especially as he and the Diaz boys had fallen into this somewhat domestic bubble that Buck kept trying to convince himself that it was just temporary as Eddie recovered. 

And it worked. For the most part. 

However, it had been more and more difficult for Buck to convince himself of it when it came to moments like his current one. 

With the way Eddie didn't second guess to lay on Buck's lap after getting the okay and proceeding to sink further into the touch. Eddie's little moans and noises of contentment as Buck continued his gentle movements. 

And...did Eddie's lips just gently graze the skin on Buck's thigh where his shorts rode up?

That...that had to be a mistake right? 

Because, sure, there had been moments here and there where it really felt like they were gonna kiss before one or both of them pulled away. But, again, this was all mostly likely in Buck's head. 

Right?

Daring to look down at Eddie, he noticed how his eyes were now closed as his breathing had gotten more even. It seemed like Eddie had fallen asleep, looking more peaceful than Buck had seen him in a long time. 

His heart was beating loudly in his chest, as his stomach tightened while every fiber in his being lightened up like they were on fire. Buck hitched a breath. He couldn't take it. His love for his best friend encompassed him. 

Every night he had nightmares of that day. Of the absolutely devastating fear of losing Eddie. Buck had never been more terrified in his life. But it were moments like this current one where Buck thanked the universe with everything he had that Eddie was here. That he was alive and breathing. That even after getting shot and dealing with the traumatizing struggle of his recovery, Eddie still seemed lighter. More open and sure of himself in a certain vulnerability that Buck had never seen on him before. Like a certain puzzle piece had clicked. And even when there were days where Eddie had been frustrated and angry and just flat out stubborn with his recovery, that lightness had still somehow been there, keeping him grounded. 

Eddie was alive. Eddie was getting better. And as he did, Buck was going to continue to be with him as much as possible. 

And even though his recovery was going to take a long time between the physical therapy and his therapy for his PTSD, and it was still gonna be a long and hard road, there were still moments where Eddie was happy. Happier than Buck had seen him in a long time even. 

Moments like these where it was just Eddie, Buck, and Christopher, being together. 

And Buck? Buck could live in these moments forever. As long as he had Eddie and Christopher then he'd be okay. 

At that thought he looked away from the sleeping man in his lap to check on Chris. The kid was now laying on the soft carpet, head on one of the couch pillows, now fast asleep just like his dad. 

His two Diaz boys. Who had both gone through so much more than anyone should in a lifetime and now were both sleeping happily, with small smiles both on their faces. 

Buck's heart clenched in his chest.

Now this? This was what pure happiness felt like. 

He then looked back down at the soft expression on Eddie's face as his best friend slept soundly. 

Buck couldn't take it anymore. 

Sure this was a very bad idea, but his heart felt like it was going to rip out of his chest. His love for the best friend he'll ever have was just too much. 

And so, in a moment of weakness, Buck leaned his head down and kissed Eddie's forehead, lingering there for a few seconds or so before whispering in a hushed tone, "I love you."

Eddie's head shifted ever so slightly which made Buck immediately rip his hand away. 

His best friend's eyes slowly fluttered open before meeting his gaze. 

And there it was. That fond look yet again. But this time it was brighter than Buck had ever seen it before.

Eddie smiled up at him, "I love you too."

And just like that Buck finally knew what that missing puzzle piece Eddie had seemed to find. Because he was now feeling it too as everything fell into place.

Not being able to contain himself anymore, Buck leaned down and placed a small yet emotional-filled kiss on Eddie's lips. His best friend returned the kiss with as much vigor. 

After Buck lifted his head up ever so slightly, he placed his forehead against Eddie's as they smiled softly at each other. 

Yeah, he could get used to this.

[mrsbrookegillespie]

+Perfect Harmony+ (Part One) Luke x Reader

Description: For Y/N Molina, it never came easy for her. The hardest part not being able to do the one thing she loved, creating music. With her cousin Julie joining a ghost band that she’s been secretly admiring for years, her all time crush not returning the same feelings, and having many untold secrets, something is bound to go wrong.

Warnings: ANGST, swearing, mention of suicidal thoughts, Ray not being that nice (I’m sorry Ray, we love you), mention of slight sexual harassment, mentions of death (duh), terrible writing, typos, and probably more that my brain can’t think of at the moment. 

After Writing All Of That I’m Questioning This Story, But I Do Love It So... Many Songs Will Be Featured, Feel Free To Listen To Them When They Come Up.

+Perfect Harmony+

For Y/N Molina life wasn’t easy. Her parents, one being the sister of Ray Molina, dropped her off in front of the Molina household at the age of fourteen before going off to explore the world. At the time she was upset about the situation, but it wasn’t surprising. Her parents never wanted a kid, she practically raised herself while they were in Greece eating seafood, and sipping at the finest wine, no doubt. “How are you doing?” Rose, her cousin Julie’s mom, asks. 

Y/N shrugs. “They’re never coming back, so I guess I’m going to be stuck on this couch for a while.” She actually grew quite fond of the sofa that pulled out into a bed.

“We’ll make you a room up in the loft,” Rose assures.

“So, we agree, my parents are…” Her voice fades off, inhaling through her nose.

“You know, this used to be the studio of a band.” Y/N tilts her head, looking at the older woman. “A rock band, I met them when they were going to play at The Orpheum--”

“The Orpheum?!” Y/N exclaims. “That’s amazing!” 

“They were, but they died that night.” Rose stands up, walking to a box. “This is some of their stuff.” She picks it up. “I’ve heard the music you listen to, and I think you would like them.” Setting down the box in front of Y/N, she wastes no time searching through it.

“Sunset Curve?” she questions, staring down at the logo printed on the shirt. “Cool name,” she compliments with a wide smile, setting the article of clothing in her lap. She picks up a picture showing four boys. “Were these them?” 

“Yes, that one was Bobby, he’s a flirt, Reggie, sweetie, Alex, very sassy--” Y/N giggles, “And Luke, he was the lead singer.” 

“He’s… Quite decent looking,” Y/N observes sheepishly.

“I knew you’d think so.” Rose ruffles her hair. “Listen to the CD, you never know…” 

“I will.” Y/N clutches the photo to her chest as Rose leaves. Hastily she picks up the CD that had the band's logo plastered on the plastic case. She gently places it in the player, waiting for the music to come through the speakers. And then, there it was. “They’re amazing.” She grabs the box again, pulling out an orange beanie, placing it on her head. 

By the end of the night she had searched the entire studio for more stuff, gathering it, trying things on, she stayed up ‘til sunrise listening, and trying to learn each and every one of their songs, painting each of the members on canvases, writing songs about the guitarist that even though died years ago, she couldn’t help but feel connected to. A crush on a dead guy, what’s better than that?

“Boo!” Luke poofs in next to Y/N who’s currently getting her textbooks out of her locker.

“God!” she shrieks. “You need to stop doing that to me, gonna give me a heart attack,” she mutters as her fellow classmates, and random people she had never met give her weird glances. “Make people think I’m crazy.” Luke opens his mouth to reply, but Y/N beats him to it. “Yes, Luke, I know ‘we’re all a little crazy’.”

He pouts. “Someone’s grumpy today.” He crosses his arms, leaning against the locker next to hers. “But, anyways! Do you know where Julie is?” 

And there Y/N’s heart was punched. “I mean, she has to be around here somewhere,” she answers, slamming the locker door. “Now, if you’d excuse me, I have to go to class.” She takes her time to turn around on her heels.

“You’re gonna be at band rehearsal before our performance, right?” he asks, making her stop.

Turning only the upper half of her body to look at him. “I think you forget I live in the studio.”

He lets out an airy chuckle. “Right.” He playfully rolls his eyes.

Unlike Julie she didn’t care if people thought she was crazy, for the number one reason being that people already thought that. Wacky, coocoo, freak, those were just some of the words people called her before her favorite band suddenly popped out of nowhere because Julie played their CD.

That always confused Y/N, why is that when she played the CD all that time ago they didn’t show up, but when Julie did, they did? She never mentioned her already known infatuation with the band, even though it most likely answers the question of why Julie and her can see the ghosts. “But, I’m grounded so…” She carelessly shrugs. “I’m stuck on party duty for the time being, so probably won’t be there for that, but I’ll be there for the actual performance.” Even though she would’ve done it anyway, Ray wanted Y/N to be more ‘supportive’.

“Oh.” His smile falters a little. “Cool, I’ll catch you later then.”

An awkward tension fills the air. “Yep.” She salutes towards him, walking off. 

Grounded. No phone, only can drive her car to school, and home. Y/N wasn’t even allowed to listen to her records which she’s collected over the course of three years. And it was for the reason that she's failing multiple classes, but Ray didn’t understand the struggle she’s going through.

Let’s rewind… When Rose died it left the whole Molina family broken. But, it also left another part of Y/N broken when music became Julie’s thing at that moment, Ray not allowing Y/N to even have a guitar in her room. She loved music, all she wanted to do was sing, play every instrument, write every song with any word that popped into her mind. Julie couldn’t even touch a piano until recently, and yet, it had to only be Julie’s thing. So, now Y/N has to just secretly write songs in her red notebook knowing they’ll never be used, and secretly play in the school’s band room before any student takes a foot into the building, while she watches her cousin and the guys become ‘Julie and the Phantoms’.

What does hurt her everyday, is not being able to do something she loves because they’re afraid of how it might affect someone else. But, if Julie really cared for her family member then she’d be happy for her, right? Not to mention the way Luke looks at Julie hurts a little too, the chemistry. No one can deny it. It’s not like she’s had a crush on him before they even met him as a ghost. No, the biggest crush that she’s ever had is totally not a dead guy, and no, she’s never in the past thought about killing herself in hope to meet him if there were an afterlife, which she guesses there is now. She’s sure he loves Julie not being an absolute mess for him, and he probably knows that Y/N’s in love with him and is trying to show her he doesn’t like her in the worst way possible. “Y/N!” she internally screams, hearing the familiar voice.

“Josh…” she drags out his name. Maybe she should just give him a chance? He gives her plenty of attention. She giggles to herself when the thought crosses her mind. That wasn’t funny. An inner voice replies. 

“Hey, I just… Wanted to see how you were doing, you know--just friend to friend.” 

“I actually have to go to class, so we’ll talk later, ‘kay?” She tries to turn around to leave, but Josh grabs her arm to pull her back.

“Class doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes,” he counters.

“Y/N!” Luke exclaims, poofing right next to Josh. “I still haven’t found Julie, are you sure you don’t know where she is?” He almost didn’t even notice the other boy that had also been fighting for Y/N’s attention.

“I like to get to class early,” Y/N replies to Josh. “And you haven’t seen Julie around here, have you?”

“I think I saw her in the dance room.” She gives Luke a pointed look. “You know, practicing for that dance thing.”

“Yeah!” Y/N responds, not even an ounce interested in this conversation. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she noticed Luke not leaving.

“Who’s this?” he asks.

“So, Josh, I really have to go,” she claims. “I’ll see ya around!” 

“Wait,” he starts. “Is this about when I tried to kiss you the other day?” Y/N tenses up, 

Luke’s jaw dropping slightly.

Followed by a wide smile. “Does Y/N have a boyfriend?!” he mocks. 

“No, well, yes, it is. We aren’t dating, Josh, it’s uncomfortable.” Josh huffs out. “That’s not a weird reason for why.” Y/N’s blood starts to boil.

“You should feel honored that someone would even want to kiss you, I mean your reputation here isn’t all too great, Y/N,” he states. 

“Goodbye, Josh.” She turns on her heels. 

Luke watches as she angrily walks away, glaring at Josh who obviously couldn’t see him. He turns slightly, glancing over his shoulder to see Julie by her locker. Giving Y/N one more glimpse he goes to do what he came here to do. 

Y/N sits at her desk, rereading over the words that she colorfully wrote in her journal. “You pretty thing, with pretty things inside,” she sings quietly. She slams the book closed when she finds herself getting annoyed by just how untalented she was. 

“I think that Nick guy has a crush on Julie,” Luke reports, once again magically appearing in front of her. He was taken aback when she didn’t react.

[anime-corner]

Unmiss You I Iwaizumi H.

A/N: So, I basically don’t know how it turned out like this... Not proud of this one though, kind of am? It’s honestly confusing. But hey, hope you like it!

Two A.M. At least that was the time that was shown on his phone. He couldn't remember how long since then. Or how it happened. He just knew that he fucked up.

The device rang in his hand, answering quickly, not bothering to check the caller I.D., hoping that it was you, "yeah?"

"Aww, Iwa-chan! That was quick! Did you miss me that much?" He scoffed, throwing the phone on his bed, the call on speaker as he laid back down, his arm draped over his eyes.

"What do you want, Oikawa?" He asked without the usual insult to the setter's name.

"Are you… still thinking about her?" The caller said, careful in his words, "Besides, it's what? Almost three? You're usually not up this early."

"Why do you care?" He huffed as he thought about it. He never did stay up late or woke up early unless it was to give Oikawa the support he needed. But this time it was different, he knew that, and that was because he was waiting for you.

"Geez, of course, I care! You're my best friend! And it's obvious that you're miserable without her." Oikawa could hear shuffling on the other end.

"What do I do then? She won't answer my calls o-or reply back to my messages." Iwaizumi held out a pillow, throwing it across the room in frustration, "Hell, I can't even get a glimpse of her without those crows stopping me!!"

"Maybe… She wants to move on?" It was silent for a few moments as he debated in his mind. Was she really?

"... I hope not. Because wouldn't it be unfair if… she gets to forget everything when all I want is to get her back?" He gripped onto his dark hair, tears threatening to spill, his firm look shattering to pieces, "She's all that I think about after that game. She's in my dreams, within my vision… I could even hear her at times but…"

"But what?" A heavy sigh left Iwaizumi's lips as he succumbed to his thoughts.

"You're right… Maybe, she doesn't want me back. I can't just rewind time to make it right. I can't go back to before I fell for her, to stop myself from meeting her and undo everything because I know that I'll just end up liking her. Loving her." It wasn't like him to act like this.

He was stubborn. He wouldn't stop at anything like a breakup. Instead, he'd do anything to get you back. But, with how he was right now, he doubts that he'd be able to. That's just what was running inside his head. Full of doubt and regret.

"It would have been easier that way…" Oikawa comments, giving out a sigh as well.

"Yeah, no shit. But like you said, maybe she wants to move on. And I just have to live with the fact that you can't easily unmiss a person you so badly miss." Iwaizumi let out a growl of annoyance, hearing noises from the other side of the screen,  "Oi Kusokawa, are you still listening!?!"

"Get up. Out of bed. I'll pick you up in thirty minutes." He had to blink a couple of times, trying to register the words of his friend.

"What do you mean you'll pick me up!? Oi, don't come over or I'll kick your ass!"

"Just do it, will you Hajime?" Iwaizumi mumbles incoherent words to himself, debating whether or not he should. In the end, he gives in.

"Whatever."

Forcing himself out of his bed, he dressed with what he thought was okay looking. A long sleeve grey shirt and ripped jeans, not bothering to look good for something Oikawa had planned for him. It was useless, he thought. A distraction was useless. A knock came as he opened it, the setter eyed his friend from top to bottom.

"You look like shit." Oikawa said as he went in, hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, thanks sherlock." He rolled his eyes, closing the door.

"What's with the outfit? Come on, I'll get you something else." The setter darted towards his room, opening the closet for something the dark-haired male to wear.

"Why are you here, Oikawa? I'm assuming you aren't here just to take my mind off of her." Iwaizumi questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Actually, I asked (y/n) if she could just hear you out. She'll be meeting us at the park." Oikawa admitted, already preparing for the worse.

"YOU DID WHAT!? YOU IDIOT! WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT!?" Hands wrapped around the collar of Oikawa's shirt, face dangerously close and seething with rage.

"Because you're both hurting! See for yourself!" He got out his phone, scrolling through the messages he and two of Karasuno's members had been exchanging, "Both Tobio-chan and that Small Fry has been sending me pictures of her during their practice and she's trying her best to cope, struggling just the same as you."

"Shut up Assikawa!! (y/n)... She doesn't want me back. If she did, we would have fixed our relationship by now." "I lost her because I messed up. And--" Oikawa threw a pair of jeans with an oversized dark blue denim jacket and a grey hoodie.

"Here. Wear this." It was also the same one he wore when they watched the game between Karasuno and Shiratorizawa, "That's what you wore on your first date, right?"

"I… yeah."

"Good. I'm sure she'd like it if you wore that instead. I'll give you ten minutes to freshen up." He left Iwaizumi to get ready, closing the door behind him, "Or at least, as much as you possibly can. Geez, I can't believe you're an emotional wreck!"

Was it okay? Was it okay to see you? Did you hate him? Or did you still care? Was there still a chance for the two of you to get back together? More questions than answers and honestly, he only wanted to know if you'd take him back again.

"Hey, are you really sure she'll be there?" He got out of his room, wearing the clothes Oikawa handed him.

"I'm sure but…" Looking at him up and down again, a smile on his lips. His usual cheerful and outwardly carefree expression was on his face, "Look at my Iwa-chan, all grown up and ready to get his girl back!"

"Shut up! This was your idea!"

"Huh? Does that mean you don't really plan on fixing all of this? Are you giving up?" Iwaizumi choked on nothing, that wasn't his intention. He wasn't giving up. He just didn't know how to.

"That's not…" He was struggling to get his words out.

"Just kidding, Iwa-chan~!" Oikawa received a hit behind the head, one of the usual violent punishments he would get from his best friend, "Gah! What'd you hit me for?!"

"Shut up!"

"Is your vocabulary only limited to that?"

"Shut up!"

The walk towards the meeting place was quiet. He was uneasy. What were you even expecting from him? A sorry? To beg for forgiveness? A hug perhaps? Because he'd be ready to give you anything and everything. Shit, he should have brought that scarf you made for him.

"Huh? She isn't here yet?" Oikawa looked around but you were nowhere to be found.

"I knew it. She hates me." The dark haired male crashed down on a nearby bench.

"Now, don't go all psychic on me Iwaizumi. I was only late." Standing up quickly as if he didn't drown in his sorrows sitting on that wooden seat.

"(y/n)!" The setter greeted, tackling you into a hug.

"Sorry Tooru, did I make you wait?" You asked, pulling away from his hold.

"Nope! We just got here. I had to make sure Iwa got all dressed up instead of coming here only in sweatpants. Or those nasty jeans I saw him wear when I got there." He shuddered when he felt Iwaizumi's glare hitting his back as he raised both of his hands, making his way to the sides, "Well, I'll be way over there before Iwa-chan hits me again!"

"So…" The both of you start, the male clearing his throat when you didn't open your mouth to speak.

"Uh, you go first." He gestured towards you as you shook your head.

"Tooru asked me to listen. Now, talk. I still have to help Kiyoko and Hitoka in handling the boys." Iwaizumi nodded, realizing what little time he had to explain.

"Right." He began, rubbing the back of his head, "Oikawa told me everything… that happened that day.

• • •

You have been meeting up with Oikawa for the past few days now. You planned on surprising him on your third anniversary and with his best friend's help, you knew he'd like it, especially if he and his team win against Shiratorizawa. Well, you want your team to win too, but can't choose which side you'd support so, you decided that whoever wins would avenge the other.

Aoba Johsai lost.

His team lost and you stood there at the balcony crying your tears out, both in frustration and happiness. The latter because of your team and the former for the loss. You excused yourself, looking for any of the third years in the team. And you happen to stumble upon Oikawa.

"Tooru!" You shouted, running towards the setter.

"(y/n)? Shouldn't you be with your team?" He asked, looking around for the crows. Or at least, his little rival other than Ushijima Wakatoshi.

"They'll understand why I left. But most importantly, how are the two of you? How's Hajime?" It was your turn to look for your boyfriend.

"I'm… not sure. Iwa-chan's probably with Mattsun and Makki. The others should be together." You nodded, grasping both of his hands in yours.

"I'm sorry for what happened, you were all really great! I promise we'll beat up Ushiwaka's ass for you two!" You declared, earning a chuckle from him.

"It's fine, (y/n)-chan." Oikawa ruffled your hair once you released his hands before remembering something, "Hey, why don't you give your present to him, I'm sure he'd like it especially when you've been at it for weeks. Isn't it your anniversary today? It'll help him a lot." You hugged the man in front of you, appreciating the help and support he has given you.

"I hope so. Ah well, thanks again for the help Tooru, I really appreciate it. I'm happy that Hajime has a friend like--" You were then cut off by a shout, your name echoing throughout the hall.

"(y/n)!!"

"Hajime! Great timing! I've got something--” You rushed towards him and was about to give him a hug when the look on his face made you stop.

“No. You don’t have to. I can see it perfectly clear.” Iwaizumi said as your brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?” You asked, glancing at the other two third-years behind him who only shrugged.

“What do I mean?! I should have known that you liked Oikawa from the start! We lost the game and the first person you went to find was him!? Unbelievable (y/n), unbelievable!” He bellowed, glaring at the two of you. His eyes were clouded with grief from losing and seeing you with his best friend triggered something he didn't want inside of him.

“W-what? That’s not true. Look, I just managed to bump into him and--” He cut you off again, his hands clenched tightly.

"Yeah okay, blame it on that!"

“Hey Iwaizumi, I think you should calm down a bit.” Hanamaki joined in, placing a hand on the shoulder of their vice-captain.

“Yeah, they were just talking. (y/n) was probably comforting him and asking for you.” Matsukawa added, getting ready to help his best friend if Iwaizumi ever decides to punch away his anger.

“Bullshit! I know what I saw! How do you explain those past few days huh?! I wanted to ask you out before the Interhigh and it so happened that I saw the two of you together. I ignored it because I trusted you!” He held back, not to get him and his team kicked out and bring shame to the school in his final year. Though it was painful, he knew he needed to get rid of it verbally, "If you wanted him then you should have said so from the start! I would have understood. So, I'm letting you go. That's what you want right? To be free from me?!"

"H-hey now, you don't mean that right? Why don't we take a seat a-and we'll talk this out, yeah?" You offered, walking towards him cautiously.

"Talk? You still want to talk?!! I'm done (y/n), okay!? Just leave me alone! I never want to see you ever again!" He lashes out, his emotions controlling every bit of his sanity.

“Idiot! You’re a total idiot!!” You screamed at him, closing your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from falling. You don't want to let him see how weak he's making you, not in a situation like this.

“How did I become--!!”

“I asked Tooru to help me think up an idea for the gift I wanted to give you for our anniversary. He’s your best friend so I thought it was okay and that he’d be able to keep a secret. But surprise, surprise, you don’t like that kind of thing. You don’t need to be jealous of someone I don’t have feelings for! But hey, I guess you don’t trust me like you say you do!” Shuffling through your bag, you pushed an Aegean hued scarf with Olive colored horizontal lines near the fringe, “Here, take it. Burn it for all I care. We’re done.”

'Did she..? No wait, don't move. I'm sorry..' He thought, he couldn't voice the words out and even if he did, the damage was already done, 'Why can't I…? (y/n) please, let's talk…'

"Goodbye, Haji-- no, Iwaizumi-san…" Saying his last name added salt, tons of it, to the biggest wound ever inflicted on your heart. And on his too.

'I said don't go..! I can't reach you if you do. I can't feel myself, please don't go.' Again, the words wouldn't dare leave his mouth as he was also afraid that he'd say something wrong. He didn't dare blink, wanting to still see your figure within his vision, 'Let me see those hands again, I'll kiss it all better. Just don't leave me…'

"Oi, Oikawa!!" Suddenly he was on the floor with a bruised cheek and an angry setter in front of him, being held back by the other two they were with. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"I get it that you're like that towards me but (y/n) didn't do anything wrong! She asked me for what you wanted and this is the thanks she gets!?" His grip on his collar was tight as he was still able to get close to him despite being held down by two of their friends, "You saw those bandages on her hands right? Well, she made that scarf all by herself just for you! She did that despite knowing nothing about knitting!"

"I…" He started but, as if you were still there, the words he so wanted to stay retreated back down his throat.

"What!? You what, Iwaizumi!!?" Oikawa snapped, almost on the brink of insanity like how Iwaizumi was before you left, "Got anymore bad things to say about her!?!"

"Zip it, will you?! I know that she didn't do anything wrong! It's just my fucked up and tired self making all the excuses!" He looked down, burying his face in his hands.

"Y-you could still run after her. I'm sure she'd--" One of them said, patting his back.

"She won't. Six years and never did she go against her word once she's made up her mind. It'll take a shit load of convincing but, I doubt she'd want me back." He gave out a huff, walking away until his best friend stopped him.

"Then you've just got to be stubborn like usual and try your best." Oikawa spoke, pumping the depressed Iwaizumi up.

"Huh? Ah, y-yeah…"

• • •

"How long has it been since you last slept?" You asked him, caressing his cheeks with your thumb as he leaned into your touch.

"What?" He blinked a couple of times before sighing, "I slept, maybe for just a few hours before waking up again because every time I close my eyes, that face you gave me that day keeps coming back to me and…"

"And?" He didn't want to tell you but, this would be the chance that he couldn't take hold of on that day.

"And there's this stupid scene that keeps playing in my dreams, during that fight we had, you left and when I saw you again, you were so happy with someone else and that broke me." He wanted to cry but all he could do was ball his fists with his brows furrowed in anger. Anger towards himself and his stupid decisions, "My last words to you that day was to leave me alone. That I never wanted to see you again. But, I was wrong. I still want you here by my side. I still want to see you. I still want to hear your voice every morning after I wake up and every night before I sleep just like before."

"Iwaizumi…" You started but your words just went in one ear and out the other as he continued.

"What I'm saying is, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I fucked up. That my jealousy got in between the two of us. It was dumb of me and Oikawa's supposed to be the childish one." He chuckled bitterly, mostly to himself. Now that he spoke his mind, it was silly of him to feel that way. To feel, was it inferiority? "I guess I still wasn't used to being the one getting the attention instead of him who's always surrounded by fangirls everywhere. Or believe in the idea of someone who would actually love me and not use me just to get to him."

"Iwaizumi, never in my life was I attracted to him. You know that right? I told you this once before." He held both of your hands, placing the other on his cheek. It was as if he was touch deprived and wanted to make up for the times he was away from you.

"I know. It's just that… letting you go that day was the hardest thing I've ever done. I couldn't even stop you, I just stayed there. I tried, believe me, I tried but I couldn't. I wanted to make you stay. But losing my last game in high school and all my emotions were over the place that it took a toll on me." Iwaizumi admitted. Sighing for who knows how many times now.

"It's okay. I understand." He stared at you, confusion written all over his face.

"No, you don't! I'm not blaming this on my loss. I'm blaming this on myself, for doubting you. You've been loving me so right despite studying in different schools and all I did was hurt you! Days after we broke up, I've been feeding myself these useless reasons not to see you, telling myself that you're mad at me and that you don't need me anymore. I'm sorry. Please hate me…" He was crying, he didn't care anymore if anyone saw him so… vulnerable. You wiped it all away, a smile on your lips.

"Hajime." You started. It was the first time in weeks since he last heard you say his name, "I love you."

"W-what?" These words were the least he expected to come out of your mouth but, he wasn't complaining either.

"You heard me. I love you." You repeated before you giggled, "Sure yeah, you were totally an ass for not listening to me but it doesn't change the fact that I still love you. And I also heard from Tooru that you haven't been like yourself since that day, my fault entirely. I should have thought about what your reaction would be.

"You know… I tried to come up with tons of reasons to just give up, so we both wouldn't have to hurt like this. It would have been easier for both of us. But, I can't. I don't want things to be easy between us. Everything you do makes me fall for you over and over, deeper than the last time. And hearing you say that you still love me, makes me realize that I should have tried even harder." Iwaizumi hugged you tightly, afraid that this was all a dream and was about to wake up. Or was he going soft just for you? Because it was obviously not because of Oikawa.

"So, what do you want to happen to us? What's your call?" You asked looking up at him.

“What’s this? Are you two okay now?” The childish devil on Iwaizumi's shoulder popped in between the two of you, “You are! That’s great! I’ll tell them right now--!”

“You, hanger bastard! I’ll beat you up--” He was about to give Oikawa a piece of his mind when he heard your voice echo in his ear.

“Hanger bastard? What’s with the new insult?” You laughed out loud, the wing spiker smiled, missing the sound, "Where'd you get that?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow, I'm sure Mattsun and Makki want to get a say in this too." He suggested, receiving a nod from you.

"Hey Iwa-chan, you guys don't have to diss me every time you get jealous!!" Iwaizumi scoffed, ignoring the setter.

"Anyways, I'll fetch and take you home after practice. We've got a lot of catching up to do." He offered, intertwining both of your fingers together, “We can even start now, I’ll walk you to Karasuno.”

"I'd like that, Hajime."

I gave you my heart and I don't regret not taking it back. My attention is yours and no one else's from the beginning until the end. 

[mae-gi-writes]

Hii can i request “Daylight” by Maroon5 for hyunjae 🥺🥺

Daylight | Hyunjae (tbz).

Listening to: Daylight by Maroon 5

A/N: the amount I relate to this though TT . TT I hope this was alright! I wasn’t quite sure what kind of scenario to go for with this song but oh well! Thanks for requesting and I hope you like it <3 <3

-----

"Don't leave."

Hyunjae chuckles, though it comes out empty. His grip tightens over your middle as he pulls you close, "you've said that over ten times already."

"But I mean it."

You sit, cuddled into his lap and legs splayed around him, your face nuzzled into the crook of his neck with no intention of letting go so soon. Darkness permeates the walls of your room with a bare slither of the moon highlighting the soft strands framing Hyunjae's face. He ressembles an angel, you think to yourself, and justike an angel, he'll be disappearing from your arms the moment the sun rises the next morning.

"Please don't leave."

Your murmur, again bouncing off his collarbone, almost breaks in the process. One of his hands come up to stroke your hair, "I won't."

"Do you mean that?"

Pulling back slightly to gaze at the seriousness on your face, his eyebrow raises slightly in amusement, "don't go mopey on me on my last day."

You huff, "fine then. Just leave."

"Ah you," he bops your nose in affection, "you're hurting me with your words, Y/N."

"Good. Then maybe you won't leave."

Hyunjae can't help the laughter bubbling up from his lips at that, and despite your sourness you can't help but laugh along with him. It's like heaven, wrapped in Hyunjae's embrace like he's never going to let go. You want to believe that this will last forever, that this particular moment will freeze in time just so that you can be selfish for a little while.

But the glowing neon lights from your digital clock placed on your nightstand says otherwise. They're taunting, almost warning you of the time you have left.

3.45.a.m.

"You're going to be okay right? When you get there?" You ask him after a moment of comfortable silence.

He shifts you in his lap, pressing the softest of kisses under your jaw as he replies, "don't worry about me. Eric will pick me up from the airport," that is followed by a scoff, "wants to show off his new car."

"He bought it himself?"

"He says he does. I don't believe him though."

"Oh please," you nudge his arm playfully, "you're just jealous."

"No I'm not," Hyunjae retorts, nudging your side playfully. You duck away, giggling at the frown on his face before your thumb smoothes over the crease.

He softens, impulsively tuggig you close and imprinting a soft peck on your lips, "I'll miss you, you know."

His words are barely above a murmur, but they ring loud and clear through your ears, enough that it makes your eyes burn with the familiar ache of tears,. Wordlessly, you wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your hold, hugging him close and wishing that you don't have to let go. Not now, not ever.

He hugs you back, one hand stroking soft circles down the small of your back. It makes you shiver and you sigh into his neck, wondering why life seems so unfair.

"I'll miss you too," you finally say in a small voice.

"Four months," his alto brushes against the shell of your ear, "four months. And I'll be back."

Four months seem unbearable. Almost impossible. You've been doing this long distance thing for so long that it tears you apart and stitches you back together god knows how many times. But you hold on, because Hyunjae is a huge blessing in your life. He's a blessing that you now can't life without and you can't imagine living through your day to day without him.

"Hey," his hand slides up the back of your neck to tug you away, eyes finding yours and lips pressing together at the tears glistening at the corners, the downward tug of your mouth, "it'll be okay. We'll be okay. Unless you know, I die because of some stupid shit--"

"Oh shush. You're so dramatic."

"I know. That's why you love me."

Rolling your eyes and unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face, you dip your head back down for another kiss. Hyunjae's lips mold to yours with a familiarity that causes a series of tingles to shoot down your spine. Gasping silently in his mouth, your hands find purchase in his hair while his travel down to your waist, squeezing softly with affection.

"I love you," he whispers against your lips, before kissing your next breath away. You allow him to, neck falling back against his mouth slowly peppering kisses down your neck.

"I love you too," you whisper back, hold him close. Nosing down your collarbone and peppering a rain of kisses over your exposed skin, it takes him a moment to realize that you're crying, sobbing silently as you clasp the back of his head in an iron grip.

"Hey hey hey," his hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb wiping away at your tears streaming down your face. His own features soften, eyes glistening with wetness before he brings you into a hug, "hey Y/N, it's okay. It'll be okay."

You know it will. You've managed to make it work for the past three years and honestly you should've gotten used to it by now. But the pain is always fresh, like a wound constantly ripping open every time Hyunjae hops onto a plane and disappears from the space he's carved into your bed.

You hate it. You hate it so much you want to rip your hair off until the pain numbs out the one in your heart.

Dawn arrives a little too soon for your liking, and since you've fallen asleep on Hyunjae's chest in the process of crying, your first thought as your eyelids flutter open is that he's gone. Hands shoot out in panic, almost elbowing the said man in the process.

"Oh!" Your head turns to see a sleepy Hyunjae, blearily blinking back at you through a fog of sleep, "oh," and your body instantly relaxes knowing that he's still here.

"Hey," Hyunjae murmurs, nosing your jaw and leaving a small kiss there, "morning."

"Morning," you whisper back. His hair tickles your nose as he kisses your cheek, "what time is your flight?"

"Nine," he sneaks a glance at his phone before a groan rumbles through him, "should probably start getting ready."

He's right and you nod along, ignoring the swell taking place in your chest like a balloon about to burst with all the sadness you've been stowing away. You help him pack the last of his things and make him breakfast; your eggs are a little more carefully made today, ensuring that his toast isn't burnt and that he gets a side of baked beans to fill him up. Qll the while ignoring the blatant reminder of reality that stands by your door in the form of his suitcase.

He doesn't have to ask you whether you're okay; he feels it, spots the permanent wetness in your eyes even as you laugh at his jokes throughout breakfast, notices the tightness of your knuckles aa you hold onto your utensils as though scared your sanity might slip away at any given moment.

And when it is time for him to say his goodbyes, he shrugs on his jacket and opens up his arms. You don't hesitate throw yourself at him, wrapping yourself as tightly as possible while his mouth presses another soft kiss to the outside of your ear.

"Don't cry, okay?" He peppers a line of kisses along your cheekbone. That only makes you hold him even tighter still, burrowing your face into his chest until Hyunjae manages to cup your cheek to tilt your head up, "I mean it, Y/N."

"Then don't go."

"Oh come on," he scoffs and flicks your forehead lightly, which causes you to yelp, "hey! Not cool."

"That's for being too cute," his hands slip down to rest on your forearms, eyes locking on yours, "now don't cry. Or I won't buy you boba anymore."

"That's an empty threat and you know it," you mutter with narrowed eyes.

Chuckling, Hyunjae then brushes away some stray hairs from your forehead before he leans in to peck the said area, "I have to go. I'm cutting it close."

"I know."

You hug him once more. Just one more, your mind chants in desperation. He pulls back after that before his mouth finds yours in a searing hot kiss -- one that is filled with promises and love and pure affection dripping from his lips -- as you stumble against him, right into your front door.

You're practically breathing into each other when he pulls back, foreheads pressed, "I need to go," he rasps out and you nod, heart dropping to your stomach with dread.

He’s right. So you do what your body is screaming at you not to do. You step back and he grabs onto his suitcase, turning back to look at you with eyes just as wet as yours. And for some reason that makes you feel a little bit better.

“Take care,” your hand lifts to cradle his face, going on your tiptoes for one last kiss. He returns it softly, thumb cradling your jaw as he mumbles out, “you too.” 

“Text me when you pass through security,” you say, watching him open the door and fighting to keep yourself from crumbling with every step that widens the gap between your two bodies.

“I will,” he sends you a smile that is supposed to be comforting and yet, still makes you wish that you could rewind time. 

“Bye.”

“Bye, Y/N. I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

When the door closes behind him, your knees give out in the ear-numbing, heart-wrenching silence that swallows you whole.

[pixelated-pogues]

Summer Love (j.m)

Prompt: Summer Love by One direction  Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader Requested: Yes, a PHAT minute ago. Warnings: SLIGHT angst, mild cursing. -------------------------------------- Can’t believe you’re packing your bags trying so hard not to cry had the best time and now it’s the worst time but we have to say goodbye

JJ lays on your bed in silence, toying with a loose thread while you continue focusing on folding the articles of clothing that you’d haphazardly thrown on your bed moments prior. You nibble on your lip in concentration, trying to bite back the intrusive emotions pooling inside of you while packing up the belongings in the room you’ve called your own for the past three months.

His eyes trail over to you and catch the fact that your expression matches how he’s feeling to a T. He opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it because he can’t find the right words to say. Instead he sits there in denial, trying to discount the fact that you’re leaving him soon. He thinks over the past few months and nearly laughs. It’s crazy how the boy that hates anything that has to do with love fell so undeniably in love with you in such a short span of time. He still can’t wrap his head around how quickly you nuzzled your way into his heart, breaking down all of the barriers his dysfunctional family dynamic has created over the years.

Don’t promise that you’re gonna write don’t promise that you’ll call just promise that you won’t forget we had it all

“Stop promising me that you’re going to call,” you exclaim, unable to hide the break in your voice. JJ closes his mouth in shock, unsure of how to respond to the sudden outburst. “God, just stop,” you sniffle, running your hands over your face before turning away from him to pace around the room. “You keep making all of these promises that we both know damn well we’re not going to keep. No matter how much we want to believe that this is going to work, it’s not going to JJ.” Your movements halt for a brief second before you shift to face him again, hesitantly meeting his eyes.

“Y/n,” he trails off, eyes begging you to stop. 

“No,” you smile sadly, your tear-filled eyes staring into his own. “It’s been so good. We both know that. I mean, being here with you has made me happier than I ever could have anticipated that it would have but we’re young JJ. We’re so young and we’re going to be so far away from each other. We’re going to be around other people, have other distractions, and we’re going to fade out of each other's thoughts.”  

You’re partially expecting him to fight back, to scream at you that you’re wrong, but he doesn’t. He stands across from you with his mouth clenched shut in a thin line, eyes pooling with understanding because, as much as you both hate to admit it, he knows that you’re right. 

“Okay,” he agrees finally breaking his streak of silence. You stare at him sadly, shoulders slumped in defeat as the boy approaches you calmly. His hands move to push your hair away from your face before cupping your cheeks. He takes a minute to study your features, seemingly soaking in every detail, before he sighs softly. “You’re right. It’s stupid to think that we can make this work right now, but can we at least promise each other one thing?”

Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but you nod in agreement nonetheless. 

“Can we promise each other that we won’t forget everything we had this summer? Like, even when the feelings fade, that we’ll never forget how good we were?” He asks softly, making you feel like putty in his hands. “Because I don’t give a damn about how young we are, or what anyone else says, we’re so good together. So, can we at least make that promise? To never forget?”

Your eyes trail over to look at his pinky, which’s now extended out towards you, waiting for you to seal the promise, and you can’t help but let a few tears fall. “Of course,” you agree, locking your pinky with his. You share melancholy smiles, sealing that promise to each other before letting go. “I love you so much JJ Maybank,” you murmur, gently pulling the boy into a tight hug. It feels like an unofficial goodbye like you’re both leaving that piece of yourselves in this room once you part. You’re convinced that it should hurt more than it does, but somehow knowing that there’s a pact made specifically to remember makes it a whole lot lighter. 

JJ’s hands capture your flushed cheeks again as his lips meet your own, clearly sealing the deal. 

‘Cause you were mine for the summer now we know it’s nearly over feels like snow in September  But I always will remember  You were my summer love You always will be my summer love

JJ is struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’re leaving; the fact that your love story is coming to an end. He tried to hide it, but it’s evident. You can see it. Hell, you’re convinced that the entire island can see it. You’ve watched his smile falter and his eyes fill with involuntary tears more times than you can count when you’ve been out with the pogues. He’ll let out shaky sighs before pulling it together, mimicking his hands that wordlessly pull you closer to him.

You’d be lying if you said that you’re not struggling with that reality too. The days are slowly ticking away and you can’t shake the overwhelming sadness that you feel because of it. The hole in your chest slowly grows deeper as the day you leave gets closer and closer, and you find yourself scrambling to grasp on to life you have built in the months you’ve been in Outer Banks.

“You okay love,” you question quietly, your lips brushing his ear as the fire in front of you crackles softly. He leans his head against yours, a gentle sigh falling from his lips before he nods.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, “Just trying to soak up the time I spend with you and the pogues. Don’t want it to change.” His lips press a gentle kiss against your shoulder making your heart melt.

“Same,” you sigh, looking over at your friends before making eye contact with Kie. She shoots you a subtle wink before shifting her attention back to John B and Sara. “I don’t want to let any of it go. I know it’s coming to an end, but I don’t want to accept it.”

“I refuse to,” he admits, causing you to giggle in agreement. “I’m never going to forget this summer.”

“Me either,” you agree, relaxing into his embrace. “This has been the best summer I’ve ever had. I definitely have you to thank for that.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Oh absolutely. This summer would’ve been such a drag without my summer love,” you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder to help make light of the situation.

Wish that we could be alone now if we could find someplace to hide make the last time just like the first time push a button and rewind

You curl up next to JJ, giggling at John B and Pope who are roughhousing on the sand in front of you.

“Don’t take that Pope, show him who’s boss,” JJ encourages from beside you. He nearly howls when Pope gains the upper hand, throwing John B on the sand. John B grunts, wiggling around in an attempt to get out from under him.

“Boys,” Sara whispers in your ear, rolling her eyes in amusement. You match her actions, laughing as Kie comes walking up to the group with a cooler clutched tightly in her hands.

“Oh I see how it is. You force me to do all the heavy lifting while you guys roll around in the sand,” she quips, dropping the cooler on the ground before grabbing a few drinks for you, Sara, and JJ. Pope and John B ignore her comment for a minute, before John B finally accepts defeat forcing the other boy to jump up in victory.

“Way to be a sore winner Pope,” John B huffs, slightly out of breath as Sara helps him out of the sand.

“Okay so, I know we’ve only got a few more Pogue hangouts with Y/n,” Kie begins, letting Pope take a sip from the bottle in her hands. “So I thought we could end the summer with a bang and have a going-away kegger with everyone. One last hoorah before JJ’s better half leaves. What do we think?”

Agreements quickly circulate around the circle, everyone’s eyes expectantly turning to you and JJ. You smile at all of them before tilting your head to look at the blond, who was already staring back at you.

“You guys know I can’t say no to a party, count us in,”JJ chimes in, gently squeezing your knee.

“Yeah, I think it’s a good way to end the summer,” you agree, smiling at all of them. You tune their cheers of joy out quickly, your mind getting slightly foggy due to the realization that JJ isn’t the only one you’re leaving behind. Part of you wants to sneak away with him, and squeeze in the most one-on-one time as humanly possible, while the other part of you wants to spend every minute with the whole group that you quickly considered family. “I mean, I started out my summer by meeting all of you at a kegger, I think it’s only appropriate that we end it in the same way.”

Don’t say the word that’s on your lips don’t look at me that way just promise you’ll remember when the sky is grey

“JJ, listen. You know I love you. You know I don’t want anything to change, but maybe waiting is just making this harder on both of us. Maybe we should just end thi-.”

“Don’t,” JJ cuts you off, immediately shutting you down before you can continue. “You’re not doing this right now. I’m not trying to be a dick, but we’re not ending this until you get on that ferry. Until then, we’re not even thinking about uttering the words goodbye yet. Understood?”

A tearful sigh falls from your lips before they press into a thin line. “Understood,” you agree, meeting his gaze with a pout. You move to cover your face with your hands, trying to eliminate the pool in your eyes before he sees, but he stops you. His hands tangle with yours, softly forcing your to look at him. To your surprise, his ocean eyes are swimming with tears as well.

“I get you for the rest of the summer dammit,” he cackles, making light of the situation as the two of you chuckle softly. He then pulls you into his comforting embrace, hugging you close to his chest while you rest in a silent understanding, being able to cherish the moment in a different way.

“Please don’t look at me like that,” you mumble under your breath, comfortable in your position against his chest.

“Like what love,” he questions, resting his chin on your head.

“With your sad puppy dog eyes, it breaks my heart. I can’t take it,” you breathe humorously but there’s a hint of seriousness in your tone as well. “It makes me feel like someone’s dying, and that’s not the case. I’ll still be around, even when the skies are grey and I’m a million miles away.”

So please don’t make this any harder we can’t take this any farther And I know there’s nothing that I wanna change

“Wait, Y/n wait,” you hear behind you, forcing you to spin towards the familiar voice as a blonde blur serves through the crowd of people boarding the ferry.

“JJ, what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be at work? Why are yo-.”

“Stay with me. God, I know I sound crazy but just stay here with me. We can talk to your parents. You could stay with your aunt until you graduate. We can figure this out, but God please don’t leave me,” he cuts you off, eyes wild as he clumsily fumbles over his words.

“JJ, you know I want to but-.”

“But what Y/n? You said it yourself, this has been the best summer you’ve ever had, and dammit it’s been the one I’ve ever had too. You hate it back home, and your parents know that. I’m sure they’d rather you be somewhere that you’re happy, right?” He pleads with you, his voice calm with a hint of desperation as he tries to convince you to agree.

“Of course they want me to be happy, but they’ll never agree to letting me stay here. I had to fight like hell just to get away for the summer,” you explain, trying to ignore the lump forming in your throat. “I want nothing more than to stay, you know that, but I can’t.” You take a moment to breathe, allowing your hand to cup his cheek delicately as your eyes plea for him to let it go. “Please, don’t make this any harder.”

“Y/n, please,” he begs, his hopeful demeanor crumbling in front of you. “I swear we could figure it out. I mean, your aunt loves me. We could convince her to talk to them. We don’t have to say goodbye.”

“Love, I’ve already tried,” you murmur, eyes locked with his sadly. “She already called them, and they declined. This can’t go any father.”

His shoulders slump in defeat, accompanied by a long sigh. “Okay,” he breathes, nodding gently. “Okay.” He pulls you against his chest, holding you against him gently. “I just didn’t want anything to change.” His lips press a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as you nuzzle into him.

“I don’t either,” you huff, tears pricking at the back of your eyes again. “I hate that I have to say goodbye, but I want you to know that I wouldn’t change anything that happened this summer. Not even that time that you nearly broke my leg during the three legged race at the fair.”

“Babe, I told you that we were going to win. It’s not my fault that you’re so slow,” You both burst into a fit of sad giggles, smiling at the memory.

“Last call for those boarding the ferry,” echoes over the loud speaker, cutting the sweet moment short.

“That’s your cue,” he tells you, pulling away so he can look at you.

“That’s my cue,” you repeat, sadly smiling at him. “I love you. Don’t forget about me, okay?”

“I could never,” he promises, pecking your forehead. “I love you. Feel free to write me and tell me all about your crazy life on the mainland.”

“Okay, JJ,” you smile. He leans down and presses a passionate kiss against your lips, seemingly putting all of his emotion from the past several months into it.

“Alright kid, you’ve got a ferry to catch,” he announces, giving you one last hug before spinning you towards the entrance of the boat. “Be safe out there.”

With that, you pull him in for one last kiss as a final goodbye and he sends you on your way. One of his old necklaces dangles from you neck as you walk away, fighting to not look back. You know if you look back before you’re on the boat, you’ll crumble and you’re not sure either of you can handle that.

Yet, as soon as your feet touch the boat, you’re spinning around to look at him again, half expecting him to have walked away already. He stands stands several feet away with his hands shoved in his pockets, eyes squinted at you due to the sun. He shoots you a playful wink, blowing you a kiss. You wave one last time as the boat begins pulling away from the dock, beginning the trek back to the mainland.

——————————

Tag list: @thelocalpogue @maaybanks @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @drewstarkey @ssjiara @bluebirdsbluebells @spilledtee @maebanks @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @marvel-writer

Soooo, I’m posting for the first time in a LONG time. This definitely isn’t my best work buuut I thought it’d be fun to put something out there after being gone for so long. I hope you guys like it! Feel free to send requests and feedback if you’d like!

[gokubrain]

Hi! What is Age 801 about (was it a DBS thing? I kinda refuse to watch DBS and have only read the Trunks/Goku Black arc, Moro arc, and [now] Granola arc)? Also, can we get some more canonically gay moments with Goku and Vegeta, please? Preferably DBZ and screenshots are a bonus. :-D Thanks! XOXOXO

HII buckle in this is a long one LOL

Age 801:

for starters, i've talked briefly abt age 801 on my twitter before but i'd be glad to talk about it here too HAHA

though i haven't actually played this first hand so i won't go into too much detail in fear of giving wrong information. BUT BASICALLY there was this game called Dragon Ball Online, which "was a massive multiplayer online role-playing game being developed in Japan and South Korea by NTL, set in the Dragon Ball universe." again i didnt play it but from what i understand it takes place 200 ish years after the end of the buu arc in dbz.

age 801 is the year of goku's death, but it goes deeper than that LOL

APPARENTLY as goku realized his time to die was approaching, he reached out to vegeta, and the two of them LEFT EARTH WITHOUT A WORD and traveled to a far away planet in the middle of no where to have one final battle where they both went out in a blaze of glory. i don't remember where i heard this but apparently their death battle caused a supernova that was seen from earth years later

guys?? if that's not the most fucking homoerotic and romantic thing you have ever heard than ur a liar HAHAHDFJH

ALSO THIS STORYLINE WAS APPROVED BY TORIYAMA WHICH IS ABOUT AS CLOSE TO CANON AS ANYTHING LIKE THIS IS EVER GONNA GET SO. personally i'm considering this the locked in, canonical ending for them because it's just SO perfect.

this idea that goku wanted to provide a sense of closure regarding their rivalry,, the fact that vegeta was just on board with dying like this before his time simply because he didn't want to live without goku,,, GOKU KNOWING THIS AS TRUE AND EVEN DECIDING THAT HE WANTED TO DIE ALONGSIDE VEGETA IN THE FIRST PLACE... OH THANK YOU DRAGON BALL ONLINE THANK YOU SO MUCH <3

i desperately wish i had more info on this to tell you, but i never played the game and the wiki is painfully short so !! like i wonder how long they were traveling before they found a planet far enough away,, if it took years to see the supernova then they must have been traveling for a very very long time. ALSO A SUPERNOVA??? HOW FUCKING SEXY IS THAT LOL, I LOVE SPACE/STAR IMAGERY IN TERMS OF KAKAVEGE (COUGH YOU ARE THE SUN AND I AM JUST THE PLANETS SPINNING AROUND YOU COUGH COUGH) to think that their simultaneous deaths erupted in a supernova...... god it jsut warms my heart so much THANK YOU dragon ball online

Kakavege Canon Stuff:

and nice timing, i was just looking for someone to talk with about this particular scene LOL

i'm rewatching dbz rn and i'm really obsessed with this one little filler arc that happens immediately after the saiyan arc. vegeta's on his way to some freeza planet to heal up, and goku's hospitalized. it's not very much content bc it's actually just a little side-thing that's shown while the Real filler is happening but i still love it regardless

i'm soo obsessed with this cinematic parallel here LOL i love that they're both healing from this battle at the same time but theyre also both thinking about what happened like. a LOT lol, pretty much any time either of them are on screen they're thinking about the fight that just happened HAHA

vegeta is literally floating in a healing pod dreaming about the fight whispering "kakarot" over and over?? and goku keeps sneaking out of the hospital to train for when vegeta comes back??

it's so cute LOL goku keeps like. getting out of bed and trying to train for when vegeta gets back and they're all like dude,,, ur seriously injured pls just stay in bed LOL

ITS HARD TO TELL BUT HE'S DOING SIT UPS HERE LOL

even outside of kakavege i think this is so fucking cute LOL HE'S LIKE "GUYYYSSS I'M FINE JUST LET ME TRAIN" AND THEYRE LIKE GOKU LMFAOFJDSJKFH YOURE IN A FULL BODY CAST....

but this concept that he's pushing himself wayyyy past his limits because he's so excited to fight vegeta again is just so precious wahhhh

ALSO THERES THIS ONE REALLY GOOD SCENE WHERE IT SHOWS VEGETA THINKING ABOUT GOKU AND THEN IT CUTS TO GOKU RANDOMLY PUNCHING THE AIR AND EVERYONE IS LIKE "GOKU?? WTF" AND HE'S LIKE "LOL SORRY I GOT EXCITED"AHAHKJFDSHA IM ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH THE LIKE. PARALLELS BETWEEN THEM WHERE THEYRE JUST BOTH THINKING ABOUT EACH OTHER AT THE SAME TIME ITS SO CUTE

i cant show it very well in screenshots but trust me the scene transition from vegeta talking abt the fight to goku just punching the air?? is so cute

if u wanna see it for urself i'll link it here, timestamp is 9:49

idk i just love it a lot LOL I KNOW ITS KINDA SMALL AND SEEMS LIKE IM REALLY GRASPING HERE BUT,, IDK I MEAN. the way the show sets it up so that's its like. vegeta in a healing pod saying "kakarot" (and NOTHING ELSE HAPPENS IN THE SCENE BTW HE'S JUST LIKE. "KAKAROT,,," AND THEN IT TRANSITIONS AHHA FDJH) and then immediately cuts to goku trying to sneak out of the hospital to train for vegeta's return (or smth similar)?? like the show is obviously trying to set up this parallel here between them and like. idk whether this is intentional or not but it DOES come off pretty gay imo LMAODJFJH

AND LIKE. OKAY i know vegeta's excuse is revenge and i know goku's excuse is wanting to protect earth when vegeta returns but,,, u also have to remember that goku LET VEGETA GO FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF SEEING HIM AGAIN LOL SO LIKE. basically this whole scene is goku being like "omg i'm too excited i can't just sit here in the hospital?? i have to train i have to be ready for him" LOL

this entire little filler is just so... like idk i feel like. during the fight they both had some wild thoughts and emotions flying around that they couldn't really sit down and piece together at that time (because.... they were amidst a life or death battle LOL) but this downtime is really important, like the seed has been planted and now they're both gonna spend time sitting here stewing and thinking about each other?? like this is IT, this is the first of many, many times that they'll be thinking about one another. this is how feelings start blooming hehe

one more thing, there's this scene where goku sneaks out of the hospital successfully and goes to train in the middle of nowhere but he overexerts himself terribly and falls, and as he's about to fall to his death he starts thinking about vegeta LOL

THIS HAPPENS A LOT BUT WHENEVER GOKU IS ABOUT TO DIE HE HAS A HABIT OF USING VEGETA AS LIKE. AN ANCHOR TO KEEP HIMSELF ALIVE AND PUSH FORWARD LOL

LIKE THIS INFAMOUS SCENE FROM MUCH LATER ON:

GOKU'S ON THE EDGE OF GETTING HIS ASS ABSOLUTELY KICKED AND HE STARTS HALLUCINATING ABOUT VEGETA?/AHGHADHFJJSDHGF

OKAY REWIND PLEASE I HAVE TO TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE.

OKAY,,, LIKE. OKAY. OBVIOUSLY, WHY IS HE NAKED. OBVIOUSLY. GOKU?? HELLO????

BUT THIS JUST FUCKING PROVESHAHSDH GOKU USES VEGETA AS LIKE. A SOURCE OF COMFORT WHEN HIS BACK IS AGAINST A WALL!! HE USES VEGETA TO PUSH HIMSELF JUST AS MUCH AS VEGETA USES GOKU TO PUSH HIMSELF !! THEY'RE LITERALLY SO FDHSGJHKBDG

I COULD TALK ALL DAY ABOUT THE SCENE WHERE VEGETA GETS ALL VULNERABLE BEFORE DYING AND BEGS GOKU TO KILL FREEZA AND THEN GOKU BURIES HIM BECAUSE IT MAKES ME SO SO EMOTIONAL BUT I HAVE TO STOP HERE LOL i'm losing my mind

[sup-hoes-its-me]

Amnesia (Levi x Reader)

A/N: so my boyfriend and i just watched attack on titan again in prep for season 4 in a few months. We both fell in love with levi all over again so i had to write a little story for our little captain. Definitely angst, and probably ooc bc levi is not the romantic type. enjoy.

word count: 5530

Although he appeared stoic, fearless and unattached in almost all ways, Levi Ackerman had a heart burdened with layers of  scalding emotion constantly burning painful holes in his heart. The loss of a childhood to violence, found-family killed in front of his eyes, comrades falling victim to this unfair world over and over again. He was a hardened man drowning in regret. 

Yet, he could never find himself regretting Y/N. She was a woman of talent and skill, grace flowing through her every movement, despite being a skilled soldier. Her voice, when he first heard it, the words she summoned from deep in mind; he found himself hanging on her every word, watching her every step. He often found himself wondering if she would make a mistake and let down some sort of facade, yet she never broke character. 

To some, she could be seen as ignorant, perhaps too trusting or even a bit self-righteous. She was far from perfect, but to him, for the first time in his life, he couldn’t find a flaw in what he saw. It seemed that he would do anything for her, even when no one knew why. 

And as he lay in his cold bed alone at night, rewinds of old memories played time and time again, each and every night. They ruined his life just a little more each time, driving him near mad.

This night was no different.

_________________________________________

  “Y/N-san, oh my god. Wake up, shit,” Reiner begged the woman who he held in his arms. One second his squad leader was flying through the trees, slicing the neck of a 13 meter, the next she was tossed into a tree, rolling through the branches to the hard ground with a thud, blood seeping into the grass from her head. 

Sasha noticed Reiner hunched over a body on the ground, not having seen her leader fall victim to a titan. Her eyes widened at the blood and quickly went to his side. She nearly passed out at the sight of the woman she grew to know as a family. Reiner was frantic, pressing against the back of her head with her cloak, trying to stop the bleeding.

Tears gathered in Sasha’s eyes, despite having seen death before. “She has to be okay.” The young girl whispered, choking back sobs in her throat. She said it mostly to comfort herself, witnessing deaths time and time before just like this one. Hope just seemed so useless nowadays, just mourning.

He held his hand over her nose and felt soft breaths of air. Relief  flooded through him for just a moment as he gathered her close to him. Her crumbling body was limp, and he felt her arm move in an awkward way, definitely broken. He made sure to support that arm, placing it across her stomach.

“She’s dying, we have to get her to the medics, fuck,” Reiner cried, lifting her delicate body carefully in his strong arms. He hugged her head to his chest, and as he did so, it seemed like pints of blood seeped into his clothes and stuck to his skin. He shot off into the air, but Sasha couldn’t move from where she knelt, body almost limp. 

What if she died? What would they do then? Sasha was pretty sure Y/N was the only reason Levi maintained his temper at times. She was the person Hanji ran to tell about her experiments and the commander's only surviving childhood friend in the corps. Sure, Sasha would be hurt losing a leader she grew to trust, but what about the veteran soldiers. It had been years and years since they met, and they got attached. That’s what happens when everyone else dies and it seems like you just have one another to latch onto.

Dread filled her heart as they returned to the carts and gave Y/N over to one of the medics, who pressed something to her head and popped in one of her dislocated limbs. He was so casual, she thought. Anyone would turn that way working with dozens of injured soldiers every mission. The casualty of it all made it all the more depressing, even disturbing. 

“Will-will she be okay?”

“Hell if I know,” the boy confessed. “But we all better hope so.” Even though he failed to explain, both the cadets knew why.

Soldiers began pouring out of the forest on their gear or horses. Some carried the dead, while some carried pride for what they had done. No one paid mind to that particular medic cart. The medic opened her eyes and observed her condition, but that only made Sasha’s heart sink further. She was unresponsive to touch, just a limp body, nearly dead.

Heads turned at the distinct sound of blades falling to the ground. Levi landed beside the cart after seeing the mop of h/c hair lying in the cart. His eyes flashed to Reiner and Sasha for a moment, seeing the blood soaked clothes and tear-stained cheeks. 

For the first time in years, Levi felt his blood run cold in his veins and his heart to stop beating in his chest. Pain stabbed him in the stomach, feelings of throwing up his breakfast arose. He opened his mouth to say something, but his words got caught in his throat. He gasped for air before muttering hopelessly, maybe to himself or the cadets or even the woman herself lying half dead in the carriage.

“Y-Y/N?”

“Captain-”

His voice was weak, full of pain and fear. “Shut up.” No malintent, just a desperate need for silence among the horses trotting along and soldiers rejoicing the fact they made it out alive. He walked over to the cart and climbed in, his normally firm and strong hands shakily hovering over the woman’s cheeks, gently wiping the blood  from her lips and eyes.

For the first time, the cadets witnessed complete and utter fear and helplessness overtake their captain, the emotions of a broken man leaking past his wall of bravery. 

In that moment, Sasha realized that Y/N wasn’t hers to grieve. 

“Y/N, please…” he whimpered, running his fingers down her wet, bloody hair. ‘“M-my princess, please. I need you, please.” 

“Captain, she’s not dead. We just need to get her back to the wall and-”

“Will she live?”

“I’d stake my life on it, Captain Levi. Don’t you worry,” the medic, one who had only really heard of Levi by mouth, lied through his teeth. He was just a trainee. He had no idea what would happen to this woman, but one thing he did know was that in times of need people need comfort, and sometimes white lies can ease the pain.

_________________________________________

Levi and Erwin stood outside the doctor’s office as Y/N sat inside being tended to by a nurse. The doctor shut the door quietly, and joined the two men in the hall. His eyes were solemn and regretful, not wanting to look up at the two incredibly powerful military forces before him. 

“Why was she acting like that? I thought you said she would be healed by now,” Levi grunted, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“The blow to her head severely damaged her limbic system. I’m truly sorry to tell you, but she’s suffering from retrograde amnesia.”

Levi bit back an indecent curse, as Erwin spoke. “So, she can’t remember anything?”

“She still can function normally, but her memories are gone.”

“Everything?” Levi asked shortly, trying to stay calm. He hadn’t expected this after they’d heard of her waking from her coma. He thought that one month without her was long enough, but now it seemed the situation was much, much worse than any of them anticipated. 

“Unfortunately. She does remember a vague sense of the titans and the walls though.”

“What about people? Friends? Family?” Levi anxiously questioned, almost pleading with the doctor to say that she remembered him. Erwin placed a comforting hand on his shoulder and sighed.  The doctor shook his head, and it only buried Levi deeper in his misery. How could she forget everything? 

How was it right that she could forget the years they spent together but he had to live with the memories, all the emotions unreciprocated? It was cruel for fate to do this to him.

Erwin asked finally, “Is there any chance of her regaining her memories?”

“Perhaps. Amnesia, anything involving the brain really, is a tricky matter. My guess is not likely, but there is always a chance.” He sighed and pushed up his glasses. “Would either of you like to sit and talk with her? Being around familiar things can boost memory in patients.”

They walked into the room calmly, and the woman peered up at them, a small smile gracing her lips. Levi felt his heart jump to his throat, and he had to swallow down his feelings. She was rightfully so the most beautiful human being to ever walk within the walls. Her smile, seeing it for the first time in so long, it made him so happy. If only this was a happy scene, though.

"Ah! Finally some visitors. All I've seen is nurses and doctors for the past what? Five hours?"

“”Hello, miss Y/N. I am Erwin Smith, the commander of the Survey Corps as well as your long time friend.”

“Really? How did I manage to be friends with someone so distinguished?” she laughed, but in all seriousness, she didn’t know. “They told me I was a great soldier, is that true? If anyone would know, it’d be you.”

“Great soldier, but might I say, greater friend.”

Her cheeks turned just the slightest bit of pink at the compliment. She smiled at her blankets. “Thanks. Hopefully I get to meet more of my old friends soon. Seems to me like I was quite popular.” Erwin nodded, moving to sit down in the chair beside her bed, revealing Levi behind him. The man was quiet, his eyes dancing around the room without meeting her gaze. “I’m guessing you’re a friend too-”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Levi-” Erwin started, but Y/n cut him off.

“They told me about you, Levi! Humanity’s strongest soldier, even better than me,” she laughed, sending him a playful wink. He winced at the sight of her smiling at him, her cheeks just a bit red from happiness. When she winked, he thought he might drop dead right there. Her beautiful eyes, the sparkle that they always held; he wanted them to be his again. “The nurse said you would visit me every morning and night while I was in the coma.”

“Yeah. Do...do you remember anything else about me?”

“Not right now, but the doc says I can get them back at any time.” Always so positive. If only he could think like that too.

The shorter man took a seat at the edge of her bed, staring down at the ring around his finger, twisting it back and forth. The gold was dull by now, he hadn’t polished it in a few months. Her eyes caught sight of the ring and she held back her questions about it.

“So, your name is Levi…”

“Ackerman.”

“Hmm, I see. And we were good friends?”

“Partners.”

She raised a brow, turning her head to Erwin, who nodded to assure she was assuming the right thing. He was certainly a handsome man, but she couldn’t see how someone so bubbly as her could be with someone so serious and quiet. He didn’t even want to make eye contact with her.

Y/N leaned over the edge of the bed to grab a small drawstring bag. “The doctor put all my belongings in this bag. Let me just..” Her swift fingers rummaged around for a few seconds before they enclosed a small, smooth piece of metal. “I’m guessing this is from you, huh?” she asked, pulling the sparkly ring from the bag. 

They had her look through her bag earlier to see if it would spark any memories, to no avail. Yet, she remained curious about the ring. 

“It’s very beautiful, thank you for giving it to me. Do you want it back while I’m-”

“No. Please,” he paused, taking a deep breath. He found himself pleading a lot more than usual these days. It was just sad. “Can you just wear it?”

She slipped the ring on her finger without hesitation. “Of course. I’m sure I loved you very much before the accident, Levi.”

Loved. That’s right. She didn’t love him anymore. She didn’t even know him. 

“Were we married?”

“Practically, but there’s no time for a wedding with our work schedules.”

“I see. Well, it’s nice to meet you again. Hopefully we can become close again soon.”

He frowned, nodding towards the ground. How could fate be this cruel to him? He stood up from the bed and left the room before anyone could stop him. This whole thing, seeing her, it was too much for him. He didn’t want to see her the way she was, and it broke his heart.

That day marked the single worst moment for Levi, above all else. Losing the love of his life.

___________________________________________

Five months later, and a lot of shit happened. But of course, Y/N still couldn't remember anything. He couldn’t do a thing but sit around bitterly, knowing that his lover was lost to him. Others tried to tell him to build their relationship again, but what was the point in that? Their love was built on circumstance: on the wall breaking, on the missions they protected each other, on the nights they spent talking about everything and nothing by the stables.They could never get that back, the same love she once had for him was gone.

He spoke to her, but he didn’t go out of his way to find her, to speak to her. He would rather keep to himself, and if that made him come across as harsh and cruel, then so be it.

He still felt the urge to protect her, the need to maintain what they once had, how he felt for her. He still protected her as if his life depended on it, and he would walk to the ends of the Earth before he saw her die. Yet, he couldn’t be sociable and comfortable like before.

That morning he woke up as usual, got dressed, went about his day, headed to the dining hall for dinner, and ate in silence if not for curses under his breath as he watched the love of his life talk it up with Erwin and Hanji, laughing and smiling as if he wasn’t right there. He knew Hanji could sense his eyes trailing to them with every sip of his tea, and she sent him a sympathetic look. 

The woman felt for her friend and comrade. For 6 years, she witnessed the pair fall in love despite trauma and differences they had. She was there countless times to see Levi lay his life on the line for her, and Y/N do the same for him. There was a change in Levi from the moment those two became friends to the very last day they had together. It made her sad. Love didn’t feel real without these two being there for each other.

Erwin wasn’t as adept, but he saw the pain in humanity’s greatest soldier. He loved Y/N, having known her since they attended training together. He was amazed she lived this long as well, having lost so many soldiers and friends along the way. She was different now. Lost in her own mind half the time, and unreliable on missions. 

But they had to keep waiting. Doctors, the best the walls had to offer, told them the chance of her memories coming back to her were close to zero, but not quite. If there was even a chance their friend would remember them some day, it wasn’t worth abandoning hope.

“Y/N, I totally forgot to tell you. You and Levi need to go check the horses. I think I left the stable door open, I’m not sure, haha,” Hanji rushed to say, wiggling her brows at Levi. She pushed Y/N out of her seat and stacked her plates for her to take to the dishwashers. “Sorry, but it’s just got to be checked.”

“Why does Levi have to-”

“Because you shouldn’t go out at night alone, obviously,” she explained, but stupidly. A soldier couldn’t go out on their own base alone. Y/N nodded obediently, but she really didn’t want to go, especially with him. She twisted the ring on her finger absentmindedly as her friend rushed her to exit the dining hall. Levi followed, but not without sending a twisted glare at the squad leader.

Y/N kept ahead of him, walking briskly as to get the job done quickly. Levi already knew she wasn’t happy going with him and that she generally disliked him. 

It wasn’t until they got to the stables and saw that the gates were in fact closed, locked up, and all the horses were as they should be. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me? She sent us out here for what? Her own amusement?” Y/N said, her voice raising just a bit. She was angry, just enough to put a lump in Levi’s stomach. Before the accident, she never got angry with him, or anyone else. She was just happy to contribute to the cause and help anyone she could, even if the task was as trivial as checking the stables. Y/N would have been happy to take a walk outside at night with Levi. 

In fact, they stood in the same spot they would hang out at night under the stars time and time again. He stared at her now, and wished to god that he could go back in time to when she would cuddle and kiss him under the moon and the stars here. He wanted her to tell him silly stories about her day, and then lean over and pepper kisses to his neck and his cheeks and his nose and call him her baby.

But instead, she hated him for everything he was worth.

“Y/N, Hanji didn’t-”

“Oh, would you just shut up?” she rolled her eyes over to him, her fists clenched at her sides. “You’re literally my only problem right now, You, my supposed lover. Everyone tells me stories about how you loved me, how we fell in love even, yet you treat me like absolute horse shit.”

“Would you just-”

“Would I just what? Continue to pretend you’re not an absolute asshole? You ignore me, you avoid me, you tell people that you miss me, yet you won’t even bother to make an effort? How can someone who loved me so much act this way?” the woman yelled furiously, glaring at him. The sparkle in her eyes vanished the longer she spoke, the longer she was with him.

He grit his teeth for a second trying to keep himself under control, but he couldn’t stand it anymore. “You are the one that’s ruined my life, don’t even try to act like your life is so hard.”

“How dare-”

“In case you didn’t know, you are the only thing I have left. I’ve lost my family, seen hundreds of people die around me. I found you, my sweet and kind princess, the woman I would kill and be killed over. I opened myself up to you, to the idea of loving you, despite what little time we all have left, despite the risks that come with caring about someone.”

“I’m still the same person-”

“No, you’re not. You just fell in love with me, I didn't need to try this hard. It was natural that we come together after everything we had been through. When I thought about the day I would lose you, I expected you to die and for us to bury your body and for it all to be over. I could move on knowing I did everything I could to protect you and love you,” he gasped for air, so angry he forgot to breathe. His eyes burned into hers which were slowly widening, lips just agape. He took a deep breath and continued, “Do you know how much it hurts to see you walking around, talking to people, knowing that you are right there for me to touch and love, yet you will never love me again, not the way it was? Do you really, Y/N?”

“Levi...I’m sorry.”

He rubbed his face with his hand, covering his eyes in shame. He didn’t mean to be so emotional, to make a pathetic attempt at forcing the blame on her. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything for it to be this way. You’re just living like anyone else, I’m the one wallowing in my own misery. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“I know. I-I want more than anything to remember everything. I want to remember you and how much you loved me like everyone says, like you say. I just...I don’t know how. Levi, I’m so sorry.”

He let his arms fall to his sides limply, not having anything else left to say really. “Even though you’re right in front of me, I miss you,” he whispered. “I just miss you.”

Y/N stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and pulling him into a gentle hug. He tensed for a moment before falling into the hug, wrapping his arms around her shoulder and neck, pulling her form as close to him as possible. He missed her touch, her warm hugs by the stables. He would never say he missed the little intimacies, that was too much for him. Yet, these moments fueled him to wait for her, as long as she needed.

“Maybe it will never be the same. I’m sorry for that, Levi. I want to be friends with you. I long to know what the old me saw in you for so long. I wish I remembered what happened to spark something between us. I know it’s all still there somewhere, whether we have that history or not.” Silence from him, just faint breaths against her shoulder. “But it will be okay.”

It’ll be okay.

________________________________________________

Six months after she lost her memory, six months of feeling like a burden to the corps, Y/N stood outside the castle with a few of the cadets and Hanji, watching as she tried more experiments on Eren. She leaned back against a tree and shut her eyes, taking in a breath of the fresh air. So much had happened over the past months that she nearly forgot she lost her memories all those months ago. Wall Rose was sealed, the titan shifters had left for the time being. It seemed like everything was at peace, or that time was just standing still.

In the middle of the peace, the sunlight shining down on her and her friends through leaves in the trees, through the warmth of the summer sun. her mind seemed to piece itself together, if only parts. Her world shifted together once again.

Flashbacks played over in her mind, one after the other, hundreds of memories flooding in so quickly. She stumbled forward a few steps, pressing a hand to her lips to hold back her gasp. Hanji hadn’t noticed as she was too focused on Eren, but Jean gave her a particularly strange look after noticing her.

“Y/N-san, you good?” the boy called to her.

Thankfully, no one noticed except him, and she just waved him off. “It’s nothing. Just have to go to the bathroom.” As she walked away, more and more memories flooded into her head, not everything. She felt millions of tiny pieces of her story were missing here and there, but she could remember enough.

Memories of her mother and her father in her childhood house. Memories of school, cadet training. Erwin, Eren, Hanji, her squad, the titans, the expeditions, her favorite foods and stories and books. 

But most of all, she remembered Levi.

_______________________________

The night was soldiering on, yet Y/N could not sleep. Her stomach churned every few moments and she felt a headache coming up at the same time. Something had been bothering her for the past week, actually, make that the past few months. She was a seasoned soldier, yet she was letting emotions cloud her mind. Her exercises were coming up short and clumsy, and she had a hard time focusing on paperwork or the commander’s orders. 

The only thing on her mind was a man, particularly short with a sharp tongue and the abilities of a godly warrior. It had been two years since she met him, two long years of fighting and struggling to live amongst the chaos ensuing. He was her only source of hope and light in this cruel world.

Slowly, she rolled out of her bed and wrapped herself in her blanket, leaving the room and shutting the door silently. She didn’t want to wake anyone else for them to ask what she was up to long after midnight. She stepped down the hall carefully, keeping her head hung just a bit. In hindsight, she shouldn’t have been scared at all. She knew just as well as he did what they were meant to be. It was obvious to everyone. 

Yet there were always variables. Death was inevitable, no one lived to die of old age anymore. They were busy beyond belief, always rushing around to get things done, fight titans, protect the people of the walls. It was high stress, which didn’t leave much thought for anything else. She had the mind to think about everything but her priorities, unfortunately.

She walked across the yard in the cold night to the men’s barracks, definitely not where she was supposed to be. She could probably be in a bit of trouble with Erwin if someone snitched on her, but her consequences wouldn’t be dire.

And as she approached the room, her body tensed. It was so quiet in the night that she could almost hear the sound of her heart beating ferociously in her chest. Softly, with the tips of her fingers, she knocked on his door. When he didn’t answer, she could only laugh to herself, of course he couldn’t hear her weak knocks. 

She was just so scared. Maybe if he didn’t answer the door, then she could forget all about this and never confess what she was thinking. 

Gathering some of that Survey Corps courage, she knocked a little harder on the door. Rustling sound from in the room, and the woman cringed, shutting her eyes and taking a few quick breaths. It would be fine, she assured herself. It’s not that big of a deal.

When the door opened and Levi looked into her eyes, rightfully confused, she lost all her thoughts. The hours she had spent rehearsing what she wanted to say were thrown out the window.

“Y/N? What the hell are you doing here?” he whispered, his eyes sliding to check down the hall left and right for anyone watching. 

Her mouth opened, lips opening and closing like fish. He took her wrist and yanked her into his room, shutting the door behind them. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked, still holding her wrist in his iron tight grip. Y/N shook her head and sighed, turning to look at the wall instead of him. “Don’t tell me you had a nightmare or something-”

“Levi, I love you. I-I don’t know how else to tell you, and Hanji said outright was the best way and...well, I don’t know.”

“Love?”

“Yeah.”

“Stay with me tonight?”

Her face turned to stare at him incredulously, her cheeks turning an all-telling pink. “What?”

“I anticipated this, to be honest. You’re very emotional.” He crossed his arms, trying his best not to lose his cool composure like she had. He’d gone to the same evil scientist for love advice about Y/N a month before. His heart felt like it would explode, and his cheeks were threatening to turn red and his palms to sweat. But he would remain cool. Y/N was always the one to be open with her more embarrassing emotions. Coolly, he replied, “Hanji told me you would do this, and then she told me to tell you to stay the night with me.”

“Hanji...that double-crossing bastard.”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, feelings of drowsiness still running through his head after just waking up. “Listen, I just want to hold you and fall asleep so stay with me.”

It only took a second to think it over before Y/N nodded. He walked over to his bed, scooting over to the side against the wall so she would have room. They had tiny beds, almost cots, but thankfully being a captain warranted a slightly bigger one. She sunk down into his bed and rolled over to face him. His sheets and pillows smelt so clean and new, just like his clothes did every day. It was comforting, and she felt the smell lulling her to sleep.

“So, the feelings are mutual?” she finally asked, although her answer was already quite clear.

Levi just sighed, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close to his chest. “Always so stupid.”

__________________________________________

“Levi?” Y/N asked as she entered the man’s office without even knocking. She was practically bouncing with each step, energy bound up inside.

He didn’t bother peeking up from his desk, just checking more things off his paperwork. “Yes, Y/N?”

She didn’t really know what to say, truthfully. She could only stand there for moment, and think herself so stupid for not remembering him. Looking back on how she acted while she was recovering, how she acted like a stranger to him for so long, and now that seemed ridiculous. They had history. Thousands of moments that she forgot. 

Without thinking much else, she bluntly said the only thing on her mind, “Stay the night with me.”

He lifted his eyes from his paperwork, narrowing his brows. “Excuse me?” 

“You said that the first time I told you I loved you. You-You were too nervous to actually tell me you loved me so you said that instead,” Y/N rushed to say. “I remembered.”

As Levi looked up at the woman he loved, the one he never stopped loving this whole time, he noticed the sparkle in her eyes had returned. Her cheeks were dusted pink and she looked out of breath from excitement. He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t expected this, and honestly he never thought he would hear her recall those times again.

“I remember you. Not everything yet, but I remember being in love with you. I remember how you loved me.”

He stood from his desk to walk over to the woman who was overflowing with so many words and thoughts and emotions that he thought she might burst. He rested his hands on her cheeks, bringing her eyes up to meet his. He could see, for the first time in forever, the way her eyes shone with love and affection for only him. She brought her hands up to rest on his, heat rising up to turn her ears red. 

Even though they were practically married before, she felt anxious and embarrassed being so close to him and touching him again. It was like she had just fallen in love again, a giddy young woman with so much ahead of her. Levi touching her, it made her feel something again. His warmth radiating onto her chilled skin; it was all she needed to go crazy.

God, did she miss having these feelings. The feeling of being in love is one of the most pleasant mankind has ever felt.

“Levi, I’m back.”

“God, I missed you. I really fucking missed you.”

And as she wrapped her arms around him once again, feeling his heart beating against her ear, she remembered what it felt like to be Y/N. A woman who was loved and important, someone with a history of good deeds and hard work. It was worth waiting six months, just to feel this bliss once again.

They would be together as long as they had left, and every minute would be cherished. War would come. Deaths would surface. But at least they had the present.

[smallestchances]

Almost Royal (2)

Long overdue?? Absolutely. Please forgive me? <3 Hope this was worth it!

Summary: (Y/N) is struggling more than she’d like to admit, and with the eve of her daughter’s birthday looming, she decided to give her daughter an unusual gift.

Pairing: Royal!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Douchebag boss, small amount of angst, mention of death, etc.

Masterlist

Taglist: @that-one-gay-girl @fanfictionjunkie1112 @flamencodiva @hoboal87 @cutestdolans @anaissomnia @kbl1313 @fuzzycloudsz @hollymac79 @vicmc624 @roxytheimmortal @lunaticgurly @coffeebooksandfandom @A-dorky-book-keeper @nihilismworld​

“Order up for table sixteen!”

The constant murmur of the diner around you only gets louder, and you skirt around the tables and patrons as fast as you could. Sweat collects on your top lip and your brow, the too small uniform chafing in almost every crease.

“(Y/N)! I told you, order up for table sixteen!” Sal yells from the kitchen, his baritone voice causing you to grit your teeth. You drop off the most recent order you had in your hands, giving them a quick smile before rushing to pick up the food.

You try to avoid the greasy cook, but Sal gives you a cunning smile that only makes your skin crawl as you pick up the four plates, balancing them perfectly. As you reach for the last one, Sal pushes it too far off the counter with his spatula, and it falls helplessly to the floor with a crash. 

“What the fuck!” Is all that passes through your mouth, and before you know it the whole diner has gone silent. Your fellow coworkers only look on with sympathy in your eyes, and it doesn’t take long before the usual white noise falls back into place.

“That’s quite an unprofessional mouth you’ve got there,” Sal reprimands, and you have to clench your jaw to prevent yourself from spitting in his direction. “I think I’m going to need you to open up tomorrow in order to amend that.”

“Sal--” you choke out. “You, you can’t do that. I’ve requested tomorrow off for the past three years--I’m already closing, I can’t do an fourteen hour shift tomorrow--”

“Then I can just take it out of your next paycheck,” he shrugs, starting to redo the food he destroyed.

All you can do is swallow. “No, I...I’ll come in at 6.”

“And?”

“And I’ll close at 8,” you mumble. 

“Good girl.”

It takes everything in you to go to table sixteen with the food in your hand, apologizing furiously on the delay for the last patron’s food. They seem understanding enough, and it almost makes the tears you were holding back fall from your eyes.

You thank God that you get to leave after the lunch rush, and you try to avoid as many people as you could. Driving quickly to the store and then home, you allow yourself to let out all frustrations as you blast your music.

When you finally get home, you’re about ready to collapse onto your couch and sleep when a piece of paper taped onto the grate in front of your door stops you. All you have to read is the big bold words Eviction Notice before you rip it off and storm into your apartment.

As you descend into your basement apartment, it’s just as cold and dark as you remember. A candle flickers on the center table in your makeshift living room, slightly illuminating the backpack and shoes that were thrown haphazardly. It’s the sight of these that make you smile, and as you put down the bags, you sprint into an adjoining room.

“Happy birthday eve!!” You scream at the top of your lungs, jumping excitedly onto the bed covered in purple comforters, avoiding the body of your daughter as you smile brightly. She only groans, beneath you, shaking herself awake from her after school nap. You strategically flop onto her, still in your Sal’s uniform.

You lock eyes with a shade of green you know too well, and you snuggle into her. “How does it feel Opal? Have you grown three inches? Have you grown a shoe size?” You gasp. “A BOOB size??”

“Mom!” She laughs, pulling away from you to bring a pillow over her head. “I’m not even sixteen yet. I feel the exact same way I did yesterday.”

“You’re going to be sixteen,” you mumble to yourself, staring up at your ceiling. Opal uncovers her head to plop it onto your shoulder. “My baby is going to be sixteen! It feels like just yesterday I was making you mac & cheese while we watched cartoons on the sofa.”

“That was yesterday Mom.”

“Oh how the time flies!”

You both laugh together, and silence falls over you briefly. You watch the sun go down from the limited rays of light from the “windows”. Your heart tightens. “I’m sorry baby bear,” you mumble rushing on before she could interrupt. “You deserve more than this, more than I’ve given you--”

“This is more than enough Mama--”

“No, it’s not. And I know that.” You sigh. “The moment you were born, I promised to always provide you things to the best of my ability. I promised to  protect you--and through it’s come in the form of a wild basement with 90% thrifted clothes--”

“I love my wild basement and thrifted clothes--”

“My point is,” you pause. “I am going to try so much more. Harder than I ever thought was possible, starting today.” You reach into your pocket book on the floor for a bulky parchment held together by brown paper and twine. 

“How much money did you fit into there?”

You roll your eyes, nudging her softly. “Don’t be a little shithead”--she smiles brightly--”I can’t celebrate your actual birthday with you tomorrow.  I have the opening shift at Sal’s before going over to Rick’s to clean up. So, I have three presents for you.”

You and Opal shift into a sitting position. “Present number one: I have ice cream cake waiting for you in the freezer.”

“Friendlys?!”

“You know it. Present number two: I got Rick to let us use his place to bake some apple pies. We’d have to make him some, but as soon as you feel ready--”

“Let’s go now.”

“Geez Opal,” you giggle. “As soon as you’re ready, not tonight, we can go. Present number three,” you breathe in deeply. “You know your father is a sore subject for me.”

Opal immediately sits up more, her eyes searching yours. “Mom?”

You nod in confirmation, tracing your fingers lightly over the parchment. “In here...are memories of what we had.” You swallow hard. “Now, I’ll give this to you, and you will have fourteen questions you can ask me with full disclosure.”

“Full honesty?”

“Full honesty. After that, I will fulfill two requests of yours that are in my jurisdiction. All to get you to your sweet sixteen.”

Opal doesn’t say anything for a few moments. Then, she surges forward to embrace you tightly. “Mama,” she says through tears.

“Baby bear,” you respond, your voice thick as well When you pull back, you wipe away her fallen tears while you both smile. You place the package in her lap and she excitedly tears through it.

What she finds is photos. Piles of photos and letters and more letters and photos that illustrate the three years you had with the love of your life. There’s even hints of Sam in there, and you  watch carefully as she picks up a photo of Dean where he’s smiling brightly at the camera while on a boat--a smile that mirrors the one your daughter frequently wears.

“Mama,” she breathes. “This...this is a photo of King Dean. Why do you have a photo of King Dean?”

“Is that one of your questions?”

“No!” She amends, rewinding. “My father...is King Dean.”

“That’s wild.”

She flicks your arm. “Mom! I mean this is--I’m a--how?!”

“Excuse me,” you scoff. “Your mother’s a catch. And for that, you have 13 questions left.”

“Ah!” She exclaims, searching for words. “How did you two meet?”

“I worked all over the palace. I was a floater, I went where I was needed and coincidentally he was always there. He kept talking to me, we became friends, and eventually...one thing led to another.”

“Did you love each other?”

You swallow thickly. “With everything in us. Or at least for me. I’d always look for ways to see him, and he’s forgo royal duties just for me. We even got married, but I think it’s some sort of treason so I don’t bring it up.”

Opal’s jaw drops briefly. “What was he like?”

“Your father…” You pause. “Your father was one of the most selfless, bravest, stubbornest assholes I’d ever met. He was fiercely protective of his family, and he would sell his whole being if it meant the people he cared about were safe.”

“So when you say all men…”

“I only partially include Dean. 10 questions.”

“Who’s this?” She points to a group photo of you, Dean, Sam & Jess.

“That is your Uncle Sam.” You shift slightly. “He was my best friend. We were as thick as thieves within the palace, always getting into trouble. You wouldn’t believe the situations we got into.”

“And her?” She points to Jess.

“That’s Jess. His ex-fiancee.” Your heart lurches into your throat. “She was also my best friend, but things...Things went wrong when she went on a charity visit to a Rehabilitation Center. A patient got ahold of a gun, and she was shot.” A tear escapes your eye. “By the time anyone got to her, it was too late. She died instantly.”

Opal reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers before squeezing tightly. You give her a close lipped smile. “Did Sam or Jess know about me?”

“Sam yes--we found out together actually. Jess passed away a year before it all happened.”

“Does my father know?”

Your heart beats incessantly against your ribcage, drowning in your ears. You’d prepared for this question, you could answer it. But even as you did, each word felt like liquid tar in your mouth. “The day I left, no.  I was too hurt to even seek him out…But when I had you, I thought he had a right to know just how much of a true gem had stemmed from our love. Every year, a week after your birthday, I sent him memories of us from the past year. Photos of you mostly. I never got a reply.”

Opal deflates, and your chest clenches. “Do you...do you see any of him in me?”

A smile flits to your mouth, “So much it hurts,” you let out a chuckle. “From your smile to your eyes to your goddamn apple pie, there’s no way I could forget him when he lives so much in you.”

“So why’d you leave?”

You can only stare at her, mouth paused in shock. You debate whether you should tell her the truth. 

“You said full honesty Mama.”

You close your eyes tightly, trying to catch even your faintest breath. “He um,” you clear your throat to dislodge the block forming. “He was too invested in running the country, and getting married to someone who wasn’t me--”

Opal leans into you, trying to offer some comfort. “Aww, Mama.

“The worst part is...is he didn’t tell me. I’d heard it from his m--from someone who was more than pleased to see us separated. I hadn’t heard from him for days, I’d just found out about you, and now here they were, threatening our lives if we didn’t get on our first plane out of there.”

“So you left without another word.”

You don’t answer.

“But--but maybe if you’d stayed, if he’d known about me we’d be together right now! You should’ve fought for him--”

“Fought for him?” You interrupted. “Opal, I had done nothing but fight for him. I would never leave his side and then--then he wasn’t the only person I had to fight for.”

“So who was it?”

“What?”

“Who made you leave? Who threatened us?”

“Opal--”

“Mom--”

“Don’t make me answer this.”

“You said full. Honesty.”

It takes everything in you to answer. “Your Grandmother.”

Opal lets out a breath and sits back heavily. “Well fuck.”

“I know,” you chuckle. 

You both don’t speak for a while. 

“Do you miss him?” She asks. 

“Everyday. Every time I think I’m over it, it comes back tenfold.”

“Does that mean you’d go back if you could?”

You but your lip. “I...I don’t know. That’s something I’d have to reevaluate if it ever came down to it.”

She nods thoughtfully.

“One more question baby bear.”

“...Which palace do they spend their most time in?”

You tilt your head, surprised at her last question. “That’s what you’re going to ask.”

“What can I say? I’m curious and a little bit of a daydreamer.”

Her last words break you a little more, so you tell her. She nods gratefully, and you lean forward to give her forehead a kiss. “Alright, do you want a slice of cake before we clonk out?”

Once again, to your surprise she shakes her head. “I’ll have some with you tomorrow, I think I might hit the bed now.”

“Okay.” You surrender, lifting yourself from the bed. “Good choice. Goodnight baby bear.”

“Goodnight Mama.”

You walk out of the room, and immediately Opal pulls out her phone to look up the palace. After some extensive digging and some slight dead ends, she finds a Redditt thread that swears by a palace address that’ll get her immediately to the inner circle. She quickly writes it down, and she finds a piece of paper and a few pencils.

With a deep breath, she starts to write.

It’s been about a week since your conversation with Opal, and work has been shitty. Nothing new, really, is all you can think as you wait patiently for Opal to meet you outside her school in your beat up car. Your vows to make things better seem to have fallen flat. Bills have started to drown you more than before, and you’ve recently been fired from Sal’s--you honestly don’t know how much longer you can keep your head above water.

Opal bounds to the car, humming and you give her an incredulous look. “Someone’s awfully chipper.”

“Well someone’s awfully a grouch,” she retorts.

“Well, we do live in a trash can,” you mumble, pulling away from the curb. “Baby bear, I gotta tell you something--”

“You got laid off.”

“I got--wait, how’d you know?”

“I heard you grumbling Wednesday night about Sal being a sleazeball who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.”

“Well--”

“And I found our eviction notice Mom.”

Blood rushes to your ears and you groan. “Look, I know this sounds bad, but we’ll be back on our feet before we know it, and this’ll all be behind us.”

“I know.”

You smile. “Thank you for your optimism baby bear.”

“Next time, I’ll charge you $25 for each optimistic phrase.”

You laugh heartily. “I’ll let you know when I can afford that.”

Pulling onto the side of your street, things are awfully quiet, though neither you nor Opal notice. Unlocking your apartment, you go down the steps only to freeze at the sight of apple green eyes you never thought you’d see again. 

“Dean?”

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

Look out for Part Three coming soon!

[eerythingisshaka]

Ficmas Day #5 “Gift of the Hargreeves”

[Diego Hargreeves x Reader]

Word Count: 1.9k

“Hold on, I have to move a little so I can get it in.” “How far down do you need to be?  I’m ready for it already.” “Don’t go too fast!  If you kill me with that thing, ain’t for sure gonna be no damn Christmas!” “Ok!  Geez, don’t get mad.  I’m afraid you’ll break it while you’re holding it and mad.” As you guide the plug in the shadows into the socket, the multicolored lights wake from their storage slumber for another year of holiday cheer. You crawl out from behind the tree, wiping off your knees as Diego takes your hand to help you up.  As he holds you from behind, you hold hands watching the tree in its glory. “We did that, huh?”  you ask. Diego nods.  “Who knew what an hour’s worth of labor can produce.  You did great, baby.  All that’s missing is presents under the tree!” “Uh!  Remember, we’re not gifting big this year.  $50 max for presents.”  You turn your head back to him to share a couple sweet pecks as his hair starts to fall in the way of your lips. “Pfft!  Diego, I really can’t get used to your hair like that.”  You wipe your lips of the phantom sensation of hair before pulling some lip gloss from your pants pocket to refresh your lips. Diego whips his locs back with the grace of a cover model.  “What’s wrong with it?  I thought you like guys with the man buns and flowing hair and shit?” Adjusting your glasses, you reach for his hair, feeling the texture and moving it around back and forth.  “Sure I like that, but...baby it’s just stiff and dry looking.  I appreciate you trying something different if that makes you happy but whew, we need to come up with a routine.” He swipes your hand away gently, looking offended.  “This is my natural beauty you’re dissing, you know that?” You nod.  “Yes, true.  But even naturals have to get their product usage down for HEALTHY natural hair.  I’m sorry you feel oppressed at the moment.” Diego rolls his eyes sarcastically.  “I feel so seen.  But you can help me with that right?  What products work for me?” You shrug, walking past him to get to a box of white and red garland untangled.  “I may be able to help, but I don’t know anything about your type of hair.  Isn’t some $1 shampoo and conditioner from the grocery store all you need?” Diego takes one garland from you.  “You know I’m already using that stuff, and clearly it isn’t working for either of us.” You sigh looking at him again, feeling somewhat bad for him.  “It’s not like I don’t find you handsome as you are.  You still have that pretty sad boy face that I adore…” “Sad boy?”  he asks as you hold his face playfully in your hands. “Yesh!  My wittle sad puppy wooking for wove!  And honey, that chest, them arms, that stomach…”  you give each part mention a squeeze with a lift of his shirt for a peek of his abs.  Diego pulls his shirt down turning away from you.  “Please, control yourself...but keep going if this is turning into something...” You shrug, balling up the garland and walking up to a step ladder to start lining the decoration.  “I’m just saying, don’t think I have lost any interest.  And if all else fails, what’s a paper bag for?  How does this look over here?  Is it high enough?” As you hold a foot of garland along the wall, studying the placement you hear a tiny whistle followed by an impact.  You almost stumble backward wondering what it was until you look up and find a small shiny tack in the garland, securing it firmly in place. “Whoa!  Fuck, D!  I told you not to do that shit by me!”  you yell, jumping down the ladder, leaving the flaccid hanging garland, pushing Diego as he smiles with a handful of tacks. “I won’t get you!  It’s my thing, remember!  My accuracy is never off!” “And I will accurately beat your ass if you throw tacks or whatever metal bullshit you wanna toss around here.  Now let me place the garland with tape first!  Then you can take those spots after I am safely away.” Later that night, Diego stares at the ceiling watching the credits roll from the Christmas movie you watched together.  You come out of the bathroom feeling disappointed to have missed it. “Damn!  Did they find the daughter in that landfill ever?”  you sit on the end of the bed, reaching for the remote to rewind to the part you missed. Diego crawls out from under his blankets, coming up behind you to lightly bite and kiss your shoulder. You shudder under his touch.  “Please, D!  I wanna see this!” He groans, reaching on either side of your face for your glasses to slide them off.  “Now you can’t…” You snort as he takes the remote out of your hands, tossing it aside.  “I’m not blind now, you know that?” He reaches around your waist to pull you backward, turning you on your back as he looks down at you, looking your body over like he’s famished. “And baby I have never been blind to what you do to me.”  He gobbles up your neck, letting his hands caress parts of you that make you giggle and gasp concurrently. “Wait, wait, I wanna...oh nevermind,”  you say into his mouth as he takes your words and thoughts away in his kiss, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a rough tug.  Diego sits up, smacking your hip to flip you on your stomach when all of a sudden you hear a crunch. “What was that?”   you say, accidentally knocking your back against Diego before he was ready to move that knocks some wind out of him.  As you survey the bed you find your glasses with one arm of it sitting wayward beside the other two-thirds of the frames. “Nooo, seriously?”  you sadly utter as you pick up your broken frames. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry.”  Diego says pitifully, looking at the frames in your hand.   “I had these forever!  They were my favorite too,”  you sit back on the bed groaning in despair. “I can fix them I think.”  Diego takes them for a minute looking them over.  “....or buy you some new ones.  Better ones, since it’s Christmas time.” You shake your head.  “No...at least not yet.  That would be way past the budget we set this year for presents anyway.  I don’t even wanna think about a new pair.  It’s so hard for me to get a good prescription, I swear they switch some shit with my lenses every time.  What I see during the test and whatI get are always different.  These were perfect!” Diego sighs, rubbing your back.  “I f-f-feel bad.  I wasn’t th-thinking.” You look over at him with sympathy, giving his leg a squeeze.  “Don’t get upset, it’s fine.  I can still see and shit just gotta find my older frames now and oh I may have a free repair with my doctor on them.  I’ll call tomorrow.  It’s fine Diego, really.” -- When Christmas morning came, you bundled the blanket under your chin tighter for warmth as the cold winter sun peeked through the window.   “Merry Christmas, love,”  Diego hoarsely whispers in your ear as he caresses his hand up and down your hip, kissing your cheek.   Your mood is lifted with his affection.  “Mm, same to you,” you groggily reach for his head, crawling your nails over the side of his head feeling something is different.  When you look back at him, you see Diego with his short cut again. Your eyes buck as your mouth flies open with surprise.  He smiles as you notice the change. “See?  Just did it myself this morning before you woke up.”  He runs his hand over his head proudly before nuzzling into your neck like an excited pup. You try to track your thoughts.   “Wow!  I just...Wow!  It’s so different, I almost forgot how you look without your hair.”  You hold his face above yours, feeling the freshly cut hair under your palms. Diego gives you one more kiss.  “Merry Christmas!  But this isn’t your gift though, so don’t worry!  Get up so we can start gifting!” You slide out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up.  Having brushed your teeth, you reach for the cabinet to pull out a container of contacts, cleaning them in solution before opening your eye to place one. “Hey, did you want some pancakes or...what are you doing?”  Diego asks just as you place a contact in one eye, blinking a couple times before looking at him through the mirror.   “Yeah, I have been testing out these new contacts.  My doctor kind of convinced me to give them a shot, and so far it’s not the worst thing.” “Wh-what about your glasses?” You brush him off.  “I still have them, just not fixed.  Apparently I need a stronger prescription anyway and those were kind of out of style.  And now I have contacts, so... You ok?” Diego stares at you in the mirror a little long with an expression you don’t understand. “Oh, and pancakes are fine, by the way,”  you say as you prepare your other eye. “Ok.”  Diego heads for the kitchen, stopping at the tree to retrieve the little box with your gift, setting it on the kitchen table before getting the ingredients for breakfast together.  Not too long after he has started you come to the kitchen with your present hidden behind you. “Diego, before I give you your gift, I was planning this gift before this morning...obviously.”  You hold out the gold wrapped box to him, which he takes with a gentle smile.   “I’ll take anything you give me, baby.  I know I’ll love it.”  He kisses you quickly before pointing to the small red bowed gift on the table.  “It can’t be worse than mine.  I am willing to bet.” You pick up the box, lifting it’s lid to reveal another box monogrammed with love, your name.  You lift it out to reveal a glasses case with an exact replica of your broken frames inside. Your heart drops instantly.  “Ohh baby!!” Diego shrugs with his hands in his sweats pockets as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him generously. “But now you’re a contacts girl, so…” You shake your head, looking at him as you squeeze his face.  “Don’t!  This is amazing, you’re amazing!  And you should really open your gift now.” Diego sighs.  “Ok.  Look I’m glad you love yours but you don’t have to try to make me feel better.” You scoff.  “I promise, this will make you feel better if nothing else.” When he opens the box, he takes a beat to stare at the contents.  As he lifts a shampoo bottle out, followed by a conditioner, then a comb and brush set and gel, he looks at you with the biggest grin. “Baby…”  he says, dripping with enthusiasm. “I was -- I was gonna help to style it and-and make your hair better and healthy, then you go and CUT IT!” He puts down the bottles, running up to snatch you up in a bear hug. “I love you so much.  We are so perfect together,”  Diego says, giving you a deep kiss that would put you both on the naughty list next year.

[sapphirelycoris]

𝐿𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝐿𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠

A/N: After posting “Now That You’re Gone” part 1 and 2, I came up with the idea of letters. This does take place during part 2. It has the same ending I just cut out some of the video parts and made it a lot shorter so you don’t have to re-read the whole thing. 

This is the last “Now that you’re gone” post, I swear!

I suggest listening to “Almost is Never Enough (slowed)” originally by Ariana Grande and Nathan Skyes

Synopsis: Ushijima x fem!reader (she, her)

I made the MC write a few letters to Ushijima, only three though. One for her second and third year of high school and then one as she’s dying. I regret not having these letters in the original version but here are the last few notes to Ushijima.

Warnings: Mention of death and overall sadness. I hated putting him through this much pain and it hurt to write.

Three unopened letters sat on his table. He hadn't been strong enough to even consider opening them but maybe, because of how was currently feeling, they would make him in a better mood. Ushijima carried the envelopes over to his coffee table and returned to his original position, his head lying on the arm rest. 

She had written him a handful of letters all throughout high school and even while lying in a hospital bed, she continued to put her feelings down on paper. She asked her parents to give them to him when she died, at least if she was dead, he couldn't reject her. 

Dear Wakatoshi,

You're probably never going to receive this because I wrote these when I was bored. This is our second year of high school so maybe before we graduate, you or I will confess to one another. I am so going to burn this later. Maybe not. I can be like the girl in that one book who has multiple crushes throughout her life. I can't remember the name. Now I'm just writing down my internal thoughts. Sorry. 

Love, (Name)

Seeing that this was written in high school, he didn't get his hopes up. Her affections probably changed as she grew older. He sighed heavily, laying down the piece of paper.

Dear Wakatoshi,

It's our last year of high school! On to college and responsibilities. Joy... taxes, marriage, all that good stuff. I don’t even know how to do taxes. Anyways, I’ve always loved watching your volleyball games. I can’t wait to go see you when you’re on a professional team, you can’t forget me. I stuck right by your side for a while so you got to mention my name at least once! I’m kind of running out of ideas for this… I promised myself last year that I’d write another one this year. 

Love, (Name)

Ushijima bit the inside of his lip. He hesitated to read the last letter, it was probably filled with powerful words that described their relationship. His body froze, he was trying to process everything that she had written. Not yet. He wasn't ready for it. 

The man stared at the picture he took with her at the beach with some friends. It had been a long time since he even dared to look at it. Her smile only made the pain in his chest grow deeper. He slowly reached out for his phone with a shaky hand. Number by number, he dialed her number and pressed it against his ear as the ringer went off. Ushijima knew that she wasn't picking up, but still had hope that it wouldn't go to voicemail.

"Hey, I'm currently unavailable right now, please leave a message!" Her voice was the only thing that he wanted to hear. That sweet sound that he took for granted. Even though his eyes watered, there wasn't enough for tears. Before the beep, he hung up and switched to his photo library. He desperately scrolled up, trying to find videos with her in them.

When the videos ran out, he gave in and ripped open her last letter. Instead of just one piece of paper, it was two. Ushijima noticed that her letters or written papers were a lot more poetic than the words she spoke. She used all of her vocabulary and wrote down extremely graceful lines. More so in college when she had papers to write. This was caused by all of the high reading level books she read as a child.

Dear Wakatoshi,

Lying here in a hospital bed isn't my ideal way of spending my last days. I'd much rather go to a beautiful place like the mountains, the beach, or the woods. Preferably, you'd accompany me but your volleyball schedule is so busy. Can you imagine? Watching the sun glisten on the waves during a beautiful sunset would've been the perfect way to go. Or perhaps, sitting by a blazing fire place at night and listening to the sound of nature. That'd be so romantic. I always thought romance movies were cheesy but I guess that's because they would never become a reality for me. I hope you never find this, I want you to move on with life. Not forget about me of course but I'd rather not have you be so focused on the past that you can't concentrate on the present. Whomever you should marry, I know that they'll be good to you. She'll go to all your games, support you through hard times, listen to your concerns, do all the things I wish I could have done. 

If I walked down the aisle, would you have cried? If we had children, what would you and I have named them? I love the idea of a name that has something to do with flowers. I remember the first time you ever brought me flowers. Satori gave you the idea, didn't he? They were lovely while they lasted. When the petals started dying, I got sad. I hated having to throw them away but it's the thought that counts. Even though it was just a few of our friends and us on my birthday that year,  it was a lovely dinner. You looked so handsome in a suit! Would you have worn a suit if we got married? I would have opted for a smaller wedding, surrounded by close friends and family. To take your last name would have been a dream come true. 

Speaking of which, in the event that you do marry someone else, remember the promise you made to me? I was going to at least be the godmother of your kids. You better raise them to be good little children. They should be respectful to their parents and not be lazy. If you're up to it, maybe name one of them after me. Though I don't know how appreciative your wife would be. Be good to her, okay? I know you're a quiet person but try to understand her feelings. Don't let her walk all over you either! If she does, I'll come back from the grave to haunt her. Hopefully you have the good sense to marry someone good. Though, you are the same person who thought that the world was flat. I really hope that you don't think that anymore.

Remember that? You and I were in the library and we somehow started talking about that. Even though I used all the logic I could, I'm not sure you were convinced. You're like talking to a brick wall sometimes. I bet your mind revolves around volleyball 24/7, doesn't it? I wish I could've seen you play in the Olympics! I want you to have excellent rapport with your teammates. If you want to win, you gotta be on the same page.   

During our last year in high school, I was planning to ask you out but then I realized, I'd only weigh you down. You're like a mighty eagle too wild to tame. If I kept you in a cage, you'd get restless and fly away sooner or later. I never wanted to risk the chance of losing you. You are far too precious for me to ruin. To tell you how I felt now would be too cruel. You're one in a million and nothing in this life or any other would make me give you up. You are priceless, worth more than any diamond or gem on this Earth. Don't ever forget that either. I guess it's because you don't do this often but when you smile and let kindness show through your eyes, everything seems alright. In that moment, the world is okay. Time stops and I am solely focused on you.

Something I don't have right now is time. But if I could rewind the clock, with the knowledge I know now, I would never have waited. I would have told you how much you meant to me everyday. I would have woken up next to you every morning. Ushijima, I love you. I truly do. No one else has my heart but you. You've always been the person I love, even in death my heart is yours. 

Yours truly, (Name)

Ushijima's mouth formed a bitter smile, happy yet sorrowful. Tears rolled down the side of his face from the corners of his squinted eyes. He cupped his hand over his mouth to muffle the sounds of his sporadic breathing pattern. He violently hit the back of his head on the arm of the couch repeatedly.

His smile faltered with each gasp for air. The constricting feeling in his throat sent a numbing effect throughout his entire body. All of his emotions were confusing him, thoughts contradicted one another, and the room seemed to be spinning. Part of him wanted to calm down and regain his composure, but he also wanted to let everything out.

He just had to cave in and dig up old memories, didn't he?

[mattzerella-sticks]

Come Home (ao3)

Jason Todd gets a message from Bruce. He's surprised to see it. Then, he's surprised by the message itself. Hearing Bruce's final message stirs something inside of him, urging him towards a place he's avoided ever since his and Bruce's falling out. So he gathers his things, and then... waits.

He can't leave yet. Jason doesn't know why. Bruce gave him a mission, just like old times. Except it's not, because he... Jason can't move. Can't even stand.

That's how Kyle finds him.

New York City, NY - 3:42 a.m.

           Jason heard the flick of a switch before he saw Kyle’s shadow in the doorway. He tensed in his seat but made no move of leaving. Not an inch since he finished packing, duffel lying at his feet. Waiting for Jason to drag it out the window he came through.

           It’ll wait a bit longer.

           “Jason,” Kyle asked, shuffling closer. He turns the light on in this room now, shadows retreating. Like a warm blanket being pulled away, leaving him defenseless. “Jason,” he repeats, peering down at him. Hair ruffled from sleep, wiping at drool with his wrist. “You finished with patrol?”

           He answers with a small hum, knuckles shifting against his lips.

           “Rough night?” Kyle yawns. “Why’re you still out here?”

           The words catch in his throat, scraping it hard enough he bleeds. Though the copper taste might be from how he bites his tongue. Afraid that if he eased his grip, it all might spout forth like a broken pipe, leaving a horrible stain. Once those thoughts are given form, there won’t be any avoiding them.

           Kyle crouched down when he wasn’t looking, dragging his thumb across Jason’s cheek scar. “Jay,” he whispers, “what is it? Why do you have your bag out?” Blinking, Jason notices his lover is more alert now. Staring at him with unnaturally green eyes, piercing like they were constructs from his ring.

           The usual finger is naked. Ring absent, as it should be. There’s no need for rings or guns, masks or helmets, here in their apartment. Together, they can exist as themselves. In this small, shared space, they are Kyle Rayner and Jason Todd. Green Lantern and Red Hood can have every inch of the world – the whole universe, even – save the apartment they call home.

           But the helmet still rests on his lap. Reflects the light from the overhead lamp, milky lenses staring up at him.

           “Kyle,” he chokes on the other man’s name. Then, nothing. His shoulders shudder, vision grows hazy. His lover’s face blurs, but it’s the only thing he can focus on. Closer, rapidly, until the darkness returns. He nuzzles at Kyle’s neck, arms slipped over his shoulders. Warmth treads the surface of his skin but cannot dive deeper. Iced out by the pervasive chill that spread since he answered his phone.

           “Jason,” Kyle says, “hey… I’m here… let it out, Jay…”

           The muttered encouragement breaks what little remained of his defenses. His tears flow free, unburdened, transporting him years into the past. As a kid, his sadness went unnoticed. Swallowed up by the hustle and bustle of Gotham, too busy for another misty-eyed, dirty kid on the street. Over time he learned how to hide that part of him, wound scabbed so heavily he might never cry again. But then someone saw him. Offered his shoulder like Kyle does now, soaking up Jason’s tears. Riding the wave alongside him.

           How Jason wishes he were that young again. When it was simple. Where all that happened between them was a far, twinkling dot in the sky named ‘yet to be’. So he can cry with him one last time.

           Kyle, for once, isn’t enough.

           “Hey,” he starts, as Jason’s sobs lessen, “d’you want to talk about it now?”

           He doesn’t. Might never be able to. And if Jason told him that, Kyle would understand. Kiss along his scar; suggest a nightcap even though he knows Jason will shoot the idea down. Only offering it as a poor attempt at changing the conversation.

           That’s why he loves him. That’s why Kyle deserves to know.

           Talking is hard. Luckily, someone can speak on his behalf. Jason pulls his phone out, blindly punching in the passcode. Then he hands it over, video already playing.

           Kyle watches Bruce. Jason watches Kyle.

           The video is white noise at this point, Jason having lost count of how much he hit the rewind button. Listening to Bruce’s voice like sitting on the other side of a window while a severe thunderstorm rages; safe from the pounding rain and deadly lightning. As it plays, and Kyle’s expressions mirror the same marks Jason believes he hit during his first few views, some of the rain slips through an open crack. A shiver races down his spine.

           Bruce stops talking. Kyle drops Jason’s phone, collapsing onto his knees, crushing Jason’s duffel. Face blank while he processes what Jason can’t quite wrap his head around yet. “Batman… Bruce Wayne is dead?”

           “Yeah…” Having someone else admit it made it easier. It breezes past his lips, “Bruce is dead.” A beat passes, Jason lifts his helmet. “Gotham’s gonna be hell, with Batman gone… defenseless.”

           Kyle’s hand hovers over his knee for a second, and then lands. Squeezes it until Jason breaks from the contest with the empty gaze of his helmet so he can look at a warmer, more loving one. “You’re going back then. To Gotham.”

           “You heard the video,” Jason shrugs, “Kinda have to.”

           “Jay…” Kyle huffs, rubbing tiny circles into Jason’s knee. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

           “I know.”

           “And yet you’re still going.” There’s no judgement weighing down Kyle’s statement, only concern. It’s a luxury that Jason revels in. “Do you want to go? Go back… there?”

           Oddly enough, Jason does. “He sent me a video,” he starts, shifting. Holds his helmet with one hand while the other crawls over Kyle’s. “After everything that went down, he… he sent me a video. I can’t begin to explain why …” Kyle flips his hand, fingers curling around Jason’s wrist. “But he did. Sometimes, in those really bad moments… I figured he wrote me off completely. Kicked out of the nest for… well, y’know. But this I… I can’t help feeling, by sending this, he was saying sorry. For it getting this bad. For not being there when I needed him. Not being around anymore to make it better. If I didn’t go back… let’s just say I’d regret it.” He sniffs, chuckling, “Besides, I’d be a hypocrite if I let the old man die and not leave at least fifty slugs in their corpse after harping on and on about Bruce letting the Joker live.”

           “Jay,” Kyle warns, fighting a smile. Losing with every twitch of his lips. “Fifty is a bit much, isn’t it?”

           “Forty-nine, then?”

           “You’re not funny.”

           “Yes, I am,” Jason says, scraping at Kyle’s wrist with blunt nails, “you love my jokes.”

           Kyle rolls his eyes. “I love you. Your sense of humor is one of the many crosses I bear for doing so.”

           “Yeah, well…” The levity flees as the weight of the situation reasserts itself, both their mouths thinning into serious lines. Jason tugs himself free of Kyle’s hold, clutching at his helmet with both hands again. “I have to go.”

           “For how long?” he asks.

           Jason frowns, “I… I’m not sure.”

           Nodding, Kyle stands. Towers over Jason, bangs hanging over his face. He pushes them out of the way, brushing them behind his ear. “You don’t have to leave right away, do you?”

           He thinks about it. Not for long. “I… guess I can wait until morning.”

           “…Thank you.”

           Jason follows Kyle, dropping Red Hood’s helmet on the duffel. Sheds his layers in a trail towards their room, falling into bed beside his lover. Kyle wraps his arms around him, kissing him. Maps out well-worn paths on more scars scattered over his body. He accepts the laved attention, soaking it up. Memorizes each caress for the lonely nights to come.

           There’s a whispered prayer mixed in with Kyle’s reverence. “Please Jay,” he says, “Come home to me.”

           Jason could say it a million times in a million different ways, none of which would make a believable promise. Instead he kisses Kyle. Kisses him until exhaustion overpowers them both, Jason falling asleep in Kyle’s arms.

           When Kyle awakes next, however, there’ll be no one there. No Jason, no bag on the living room floor, and no blood red helmet. By then, he’ll be on his way to Gotham and away from home.

           Coming back only when he’s ready to.

[lady-divine-writes]

Good Omens one-shot - “The Haunting of Warlock Dowling” (Rated M)

Summary: Warlock Dowling thinks his house is haunted. So he investigates, using a digital recorder to try and capture an EVP. He manages to record something he thinks might be one.

Nanny, however, strongly disagrees. (1454 words)

Notes: Just a random re-write for Halloween :) Warning for implied sexual content.

Read on AO3.

“Nanny! Nanny! Wake up! I have something I need to show you!” Warlock races full tilt down the hall, sliding across the polished wood floor in socked feet while imagining that he's James Bond, escaping the clutches of rogue agents by snowboarding down the Alps amid a hail of gunfire. 

He throws open the door to Nanny Ashtoreth's room and flies onto her bed, climbing up her lumpy mattress to find her already awake and scrambling to put on her dark glasses.

“Warlock!” she snaps in surprise. “What have I told you about running in the house? And barging in without knocking?”

“I’m sorry, Nanny! But I had to come tell you straight away! I got one! I really got one!”

“Got one what, my little love?” Ashtoreth asks, intrigued. The last time Warlock said those words, he came bounding into the kitchen, covered in head-to-toe mud, and carrying something Nanny Ashtoreth could only describe as furry, squeaky, and highly annoyed.

Luckily, it wasn’t rabid.

Nanny wasn't too thrilled about getting her gown filthy, but the reaction of Warlock’s mother to the wretched beast made the whole encounter much more delightful.

“An EVP!” he announces proudly, holding up the digital recorder he’d gotten on his last birthday. “I was right! I told you! Our house is haunted!”

“Are you certain?” Ashtoreth asks, a concerned look on her angular face.

Warlock beams with confidence as he shakes the recorder inches from her nose. “Oh, absolutely! I listened to it five times! It’s definitely an EVP! It sounds exactly like the ones I heard on YouTube!”

“Now, Warlock - what did I say about watching videos on YouTube without my express permission?”

“Sorry, Nanny.” Warlock deflates, his excitement considerably dulled. “But I had to! I needed help gathering evidence! Everything I know about ghost hunting, I learned from the Paranormal Plumbers!”

“With a name like that, I'll bet they’re American, aren’t they?” Nanny grumbles, struggling to sit up straighter on the bed. “Why again, is it, that you believe this house is haunted? As far as I know, no one has ever died here.” 

Nanny, in fact, knows that for sure. If there was a troublesome ghost lurking about, she would have dispatched it straight away. She doesn’t need anyone or anything interfering with her raising the Antichrist … the gardener, Brother Francis, notwithstanding.

Nope. This house is neutral - supernaturally speaking.

“I told you before, Nanny,” Warlock begins with a shake of his head. Why is it that adults never seem to remember the important stuff after he tells them half a dozen times? He’ll never understand. Aren’t they supposed to be smarter than him? Isn't that why they're in charge? “A few weeks ago, I heard moaning after everyone was asleep. It sounded like a soul in pain. Horrible pain! Like they were being tortured! Their eyes torn out of their skull and their intestines …”

Nanny puts up a hand to shush him. “Okay, okay. I get the gist.” Normally, she would love to sit and listen to him ramble on about the grotesque goings-on inside his tiny brain. But there are other, more pressing matters at hand. Warlock needs to be ready for school in an hour. And Nanny Ashtoreth needs to check in with the head office.

They need to move things along. 

“Anything else?” she asks.

“I saw a large, shadowy figure walk past my room late at night. The floorboards creak and the lights flicker on and off when they shouldn’t …” Warlock pauses, but when Nanny doesn't invite him to continue, he sighs. As much as he's trying to get Nanny excited about his discovery, her face remains blank.

She looks uncomfortable. 

He had hoped his nanny would be eager to examine his evidence. But she’s just sitting there, on her lumpy mattress, with the covers wrapped around her, looking anxious. 

Like she’d rather be anywhere else. 

“You don’t believe me,” he says grumpily. 

“I didn’t say that,” Ashtoreth says, shifting her weight away from the lumpiest of the mattress lumps. “I’m simply trying to digest all that you’ve told me. It’s a lot to think about, my dear.”

Warlock nods glumly, his eyes dropping to his nanny’s tartan quilt. He’s never seen this quilt on her bed before. It’s lumpy, too. In that way, it matches her mattress perfectly. Warlock starts poking at one particularly squishy lump, his once shiny smile well and truly tarnished.

“Here …” She grabs the boy under his arms and lifts him onto her lap. “Why don’t we listen to your recording, and I’ll tell you what I hear?”

His grin returns times one thousand. "Okay!" he says and presses play. They both sit stone still and listen. 

With any luck, he recorded himself snoring, Nanny thinks. Or talking in his sleep. Something that would be easy to explain in a way that would neither frighten nor disappoint an inquisitive eight-year-old. The last thing Nanny wants to do is discourage him.

But if Warlock did find evidence of some long-dead ghost who’s been popping by after hours, she’ll need to get herself a summoning circle.

Because someone has some explaining to do.

According to the counter on the recorder’s display, whatever Warlock heard starts at over two hours in. Warlock goes to bed at 8, so that would make this around 10 something. Nanny would have still been up, but she doesn’t recall hearing anything out of the ordinary at that hour.

The loudest noise in the room (per the recording) is the inhale-exhale of Warlock sleeping, and it makes Nanny smile. But not long after, another noise starts. It’s muffled, intermittent. To the untrained ear (and through several walls and closed doors) it does sound very ominous, like the notes of a sustained and painful cry rising up from the depths of Hell.

But to someone who knows exactly what they’re listening to, it’s clear as crystal. Nanny’s eyes grow wide behind her glasses, and she grabs the recorder out of Warlock's grasp.

“Uh ... that’s enough for now, Warlock, dear,” Ashtoreth says, turning it off.

“So what do you think, Nanny? Do you think I caught a ghost?”

“You caught something, alright,” Nanny mumbles. She stares at the recorder, unsure of what to do. "You know what, my love?” she says, helping Warlock off the bed and onto the floor. “Let me get up and get dressed. I would like to bring this to Brother Francis to have a listen.”

“You’re not going to erase it, are you?” Warlock gasps, worry scrunching his nose, creasing his brow.

“I won't,” Nanny promises. “I just want his opinion on the subject. You trust Brother Francis, don’t you?”

“I do, Nanny,” Warlock replies.

“Good. Then off you go. Get ready for school. I’ll be along in a moment.”

“Yes, Nanny.” Warlock rolls up onto his tiptoes to give Nanny a peck on the cheek, then hurries away, walking at a much safer pace back to his bedroom.

Nanny Ashtoreth waits until she hears Warlock shut his door. Then she rewinds the recording and presses play.

It’s not the moan of some faceless spectre haunting their halls.

It’s Brother Francis, moaning in the farthest thing from pain.

Ashtoreth kicks at the lump wedged between her legs beneath her blanket. “You daft angel!” The lump wails in agony, shimmying out from underneath, rubbing a sore spot on his belly. “You need to be more careful sneaking in here! And lock the bloody door next time! We're both lucky I still had my nightgown on! We'd've been sacked for sure!”

“I know, my dear. I know." Francis snaps his fingers, locking the door - too little too late seeing as they won't be going back to what they were doing moments ago. "But sometimes I forget. I just can’t help myself where you’re concerned."

"That's quite understandable," Ashtoreth says, breathing in deep, trying her hardest to quell what had almost been an earth-shattering start to her day. 

"Young Master Warlock has some sharp knees," Brother Francis remarks, massaging the back of his neck as he watches Nanny Ashtoreth climb out of bed and get her uniform for the day assembled. "What are you going to do about the recording? You promised not to erase it. And you can't go back on yer promise. You'd break his heart."

"I know, I know ..." She had toyed with the idea of making the moans sound more like Mr. And Mrs. Dowling, but she can’t remember the last time those two were intimate. “I’m just going to make it sound like a genuine ghost,” she says, snapping her fingers. “It'll be easier to explain. And a lot less traumatizing.”