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arcanadreams · 3 years

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That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?)

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~”

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams.

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that.

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way.

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism.

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?”

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on.

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process.

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care.

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet.

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention.

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram.

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place.

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly.

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

#IM SO HAPPY TO HAVE FINALLY WRITTEN THIS #obey me #my writing #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #posts

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reidyoulikeabook · 4 years

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Sometimes You Just Don’t Know the Answer

4 times you don’t know the answer, and the 1 time you do

This is the 2nd part to Personal Google! (You don’t have to read it to understand this, but it exists if you want to).

Ship: BAU!reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: You’d call yourself a pretty educated individual, and most people wouldn’t argue with that, given that you’re a member of the BAU at Quantico. There’s just something about your best friend Spencer Reid that gets you all tongue tied.

Warnings: Mentions of cases and case-typical violence, mentions of alcohol, Spencer and Reader being idiots again.

Word count: 3k

A/N: The feedback (in asks and the tag reblogs) for Personal Google was so lovely and encouraging and I am very grateful for it! I only made this account a few days ago and I’m already so glad I did :) I hope this is a satisfactory second part and, requests are open!

(This is the Reid I’m imagining here)

“What is up with you and Reid?” Emily’s volume is unmoderated at the best of times but right now it’s like she’s trying to alert the entirety of Virginia to your dating woes.

Dating woes might be a stretch, actually. Somehow, just her implication that something is happening between you and Spencer (even though it isn’t, unless you count two exhausted idiots falling asleep on each other and being too bashful to ever mention it again), is enough to get you feeling uncharacteristically shy.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “Well. I don’t know, honestly, nothing I guess? We haven’t spoken about that night.”

Emily’s eyes rake over you, and you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue.

“There’s nothing!” you object, “We just, it was accidental, we fell asleep because we were watching a documentary and we were tired and neither of us fell asleep on purpose.”

She laughs, dry and amused, “At this rate, you’ll be lucky to have sorted things out before you’re 50.”

You scowl, but it’s only because you know she’s right.

***

You don’t have much time to think about your situation with Spencer for a few weeks, considering the rate at which the cases come rolling in. This newest one arrives within about two days of the last one you’d just wrapped up. It’s actually kind of rude, you’ve decided, that the serial killers of America have decided to deny you two weekends in a row.

You’re briefed on the case quickly: four women have gone missing over the past 7 months from a small town in Ohio. There’s no distinct pattern that can be discerned among the victims, the oldest is 60 and white, the youngest is 23 and Asian-American. However, the first three have been found dead in the past two weeks, all within a mile of each other and all killed with the same MO: ligature strangulation.

“So we have no idea how he’s choosing them,” you say.

“No,” Hotch replies, with a sigh.

Meaning that this is probably going to take a while. Spencer senses the way you tense up a little as you absorb that fact. So he goes out of his way to sit next to you on the plane. Once the discussion about the case is done, he nudges you gently, “Did you bring a book?”

You shake your head, “I finished the one in my go-bag. Didn’t have a chance to replace it.”

“Would you like to read this with me?”

You place your hand on his wrist, gently turning it so you can see the cover, “Spencer this is written in Greek.”

“I can translate,” he says.

You move closer to him then, your head resting just against his plane seat and your chin almost jutting against his shoulder.

“Is this okay?”

He nods. The remaining 45 minutes of the flight are spent with him reading to you softly, adding in his own thoughts as he translates and sometimes going off on little tangents. By the time you land you’ve entirely forgotten about your ire with the case. You’re focused only on the characters he introduces you to, who are clearly in love even if they’re too stupid to see it, and the way his nose crinkles a little when he reaches a word with no direct English translation.

Whhat you don’t realise, is that you end up folding into him: head pressed against his chest. Somehow, neither of you notice how you naturally gravitate towards each other. Some pair of profilers.

Hotch sends you in different cars to the precinct, and you’re soon reminded of your frustration as you’re caught up in the hub-a-bub of the case. It’s not until you’re leaving the station, after a long and relatively fruitless briefing with the medical examiners and local PD, that you even have time to acknowledge Spencer properly again.

And even then, it’s only when Hotch says.

"You'll be sharing a room with Reid, alright?"

He’s only really asking as a formality. Nobody questions Hotch’s assignments for them. So why, then, do you feel yourself flush a little.

Why then, do you feel so embarassed replying, “Alright.”

***

There was nothing much to be nervous about with sharing a room, as it so happened. The past day and a half had been a whirlwind since the unsub had snatched a fifth victim. You’d been sleeping in shifts, making sure that some of you were awake at all times to keep working.

You were working on the geographical profile with Spencer, and had taken to driving around to look for landmarks at night, when there was nothing much else to do. There were maps but sometimes it helped just to get things embedded in your brain. And now, at 4am, you’re bursting into the conference room occupied by Spencer and Rossi, because you might just have got something.

"I have an idea,” you say, and before anybody can even respond you’re scribbling hurriedly on the whiteboard.

“Slow down kiddo,” Rossi laughs.

“Sorry I’m just,” you cut yourself off, slightly flustered and tapping your foot with frustration as you try to put the last pieces of it together, “Diana Matthews.”

“Yeah?” Spencer responds.

“She was the one who lived on Lakefield right?” Rossi asks.

Annoyingly, you can’t remember off rote. Spencer sees the pinch of frustration in your brow. He senses that you’re heading for the case file.

So, he answers, “Yeah 38 Lakefield Drive.”

Smiling gratefully at him, you breathe a sigh of relief, “There’s three different stores in the area for this local electronic repair company, Gladston Digital, in this area. Two of them aren’t accounted for on the maps because these are from last year, and one of the ones on Google is pinned to the wrong street, there are two Minister Avenues and one’s on the complete opposite side of town.”

Denoting the map with annotations as you go, you continue, “All of the victims had residences within a mile of one of the three stores. And we interviewed the area manager, Paul something, he manages all three stores. He came to speak to me and Hotch while we were scoping the area.”

“Inserting himself into the investigation,” Rossi notes, “Fits the profile. A stalker like that would want to remain an illusion of control.”

“I just need to get Garcia on the phone to see if it checks out.”

Spencer just watches, slightly in awe, as you make the phone call to Garcia. She manages to cross-reference bank statements and emails, showing that all five of the victims had taken something of theirs in for repair sometime in the year before their disappearance. And he feels something in his gut. Pride? Maybe. That’s certainly a part of it.

But there’s something else in there too. Your eyes meet his, with a flicker of recognition. He realises what it is then: marvel. Your brain works so fast, and that’s not novel to him, he knows you’re intelligent but there’s just something about how fast you manage to put it all together. You conjure something out of nothing, a link that he’d missed. And he’s reminded, again, that he has to try and keep up with you sometimes. He wonders if you know that.

Probably not, he thinks. You’re rambling down the phone and gesturing with your hands, in a way you may or may not have picked up from him, and all he can think is how you look so in your element. And beautiful.

He’s a little embarassed about how normal it feels for that last observation to pop into his head.

***

“To _____!” Prentiss cheers.

8pm has rolled around. Since your revelation 16 hours earlier, you managed to confirm your thinking, apprehend Paul Bader, and save the fifth victim. All in all, a pretty good days work. It’s not just down to you, but everyone’s singing your praises so loudly it’s making you a little embarassed.

Even Hotch sets a drink down in front of you, squeezing your shoulder, “Really good work today ____.”

Fair to say you’ve probably peaked there.

Spencer is sat to your left, sipping at a Mai Tai that you know is going to have him giggly in about an hours time.

“I wasn’t trying to keep you out before,” you tell him, “I was going to come and wake you up when I got back but you were in the conference room.”

He smiles, “I know. It was my shift to sleep.”

“Bet you’re paying for that now.”

“A little,” he chuckles, “It’s worth it.”

"I just didn’t want you to think I was hanging you out to dry. You know, to make myself look good,” you decide to press further: mostly just because the team has sung your praises and that kind of attention makes you shirk at the best of times. Let alone when you’re sat with the guy responsible for creating half the damn profile.

His eyebrows furrow. You worry for a minute about what he’s going to say, but then, “I would never think that about you. We’re a team.”

He squeezes your hand. Maybe that’s your favourite thing about Spencer, really. More than the fact he remembers to get your caffeine just how you like it, more than how gentle he is with just about everybody he encounters, more than his relentless enthusiasm for your questions about whatever pops into your mind. No, it’s his modesty. The way he doesn’t even think for a moment to be prideful or arrogant about his intelligence. He genuinely roots for you in every moment, you think.

“Are you okay?” he asks, “You seem a little..quiet.”

It wasn’t until he mentioned it that you realise you’d let your thoughts run away with you, “No. I’m good. Just thinking about how good of a teacher you are.”

“You think so?”

“Of course I think so. You’ve taught me. I didn’t know the first thing about geographical profiling when I got here two years ago. I could barely read a map,” you laugh, keeping your tone sincere, “You’re a really good teacher Spence. I feel like I learn so much from just being around you.”

“I often don’t give you much choice.”

You smile, “I wouldn’t want you to. Really. I’m always interested in everything you have to say. I think you know that. But I wanted to tell you anyway. So you’re sure.”

He’s incredibly grateful you get pulled into a conversation by Morgan, giving him a moment to process.

A lifetime of being insecure. Of feeling like nobody was interested in what he had to say but not being able to really control whether he said it anyway. All this time being insecure in himself, and you liked it. Complimented him on it, even. Considered him a teacher. He doesn’t think he could articulate, in any of the languages he speaks, the sense of peace that brings him.

-----

The Mai Tai’s do make him sleepy. Buzzed, but sleepy. After being bought rounds by Hotch, Morgan, and Spencer, you’re feeling exactly the same. It’s only 10:30pm by the time you decide to make your departure for the night. This is much to the chagrin of Emily, who lolls against Rossi’s side demanding that you stay.

“Some of us have been up since 4 this morning, breaking their backs to keep this country safe,” You tease, putting on a melodramatic air just for affect, “Besides, you’re going to regret this when you have to be up and back on the jet in the morning.”

“You will, especially since you still owe me that report,” Hotch teases, with a smile.

Emily rolls her eyes, “You two are no fun.”

She’s joking, goading you, but unfortunately for her you have a sleepy Spencer nuzzling against you which is a far more pressing matter to deal with.

“Come on Spence, let’s get you to bed,” You say, gently wiggling out from under him and offering him your hand.

He pouts at the momentary loss of contact. It’s subtle. You catch it though. He links his fingers through your own, holding your hand properly, and you try not to read into it too much. He’s tipsy. He’s tired.

Ignoring the deliberately obvious eyebrow-wiggling from Morgan, you make for the lift.

“You didn’t have to come to bed just for me,” Spencer says, “I feel bad for taking you away from the others. I’m not that drunk, I could get myself to bed.”

You shake your head, “I wanted to go to bed with you.”

His eyes snap to you, a grin playing on his lips.

“I mean, I wanted to go to bed. And we’re sharing a room. So I’m going to bed with you. As in we’re going to the place where bed is, together.”

He’s just enough tipsy to be confident enough to jest, “Sure.”

You roll your eyes, “You sound like Morgan.”

“What did Morgan say?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know exactly what Morgan always says whenever anybody goes off together.”

“That they’re having sex,” He giggles, tipsiness shining through again.

“Yes, Spence, that they’re having sex.”

“But we’re not.”

The elevator dings as you arrive at your floor, saving your brain from delving into the implications of what he’s just said. And whether that was a disappointed or netural tone.

He hasn’t let go of your hand. He walks to the door with you, still keeping your hand in his. It’s hard not to let yourself read into it now. How holding hands with him could be such a casual thing. Hard not to imagine walking through bookshops with him, one hand in yours and the other picking books off the shelf he thought you’d like. The domesticity of it sickens you.

Then he lets go to cross to the bed.

“Aren’t you gonna put your pyjama’s on?” You ask.

“I wasn’t gonna sleep yet,” he says, “I was gonna...”

He looks bashful, suddenly, self-consciously licking his lower lip, “I was gonna ask if maybe you wanted to watch something with me. You can pick. I always pick.”

“This an excuse to get me in bed with you again, Spence?” You tease, just past tipsy enough not to care that this is the first time you’ve even acknowledged that night.

"Yeah, the Pearl Harbour ruse doesn’t work twice,” he jokes.

You wish you could find the courage to tease him more. Unfortunately, the liquid courage seems to have run out, and the topic somehow feels too delicate to touch.. Instead, you change quickly into your pyjama’s. Together, you pick something to watch, settling down. You’re suddenly thankful for the single bed, the necessity to be cozied up against him as you watch. To feel his chest, every beat of his heart. You swear it’s beating fast. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

***

Just like last time, you wake up huddled against Spencer. Unlike last time, there’s no Emily banging the door down to drag you to the police station. No, it’s quiet.

You can’t see what time it is because there’s a Spencer between you and the clock. Your phone is in your back pocket but it’s hard to find any motivation whatsoever to move when you’re like this: face pressed into his chest, his head resting atop of yours so a single curl of his hair tickles your nose, his hand on your hip holding you against him.

His eyelashes flutter, “Are you awake?”

“Yeah. I just woke up.”

He smiles, “Me too.”

“Looks like we did it again.”

“Looks like we did,” his voice is quiet.

“Do you want me to move? If I’m...I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

His free hand comes up to your chin, tipping it so you’re looking him directly in the eyes. His pupils are dilated. In the dim light it’s hard to place the look on his face exactly. But it’s soft.

"C-Can I kiss you?” the question spills quickly from his lips, like he’s afraid he’ll change his mind if he doesn’t get it out fast, “I just. I don’t know if that’s what you want too, I’ve just really-”

"Kiss me, Spence. Please kiss me.”

The smile on his face would have made you fall in love with him, if you weren’t already. And then he kisses you. Barely. Your lips are just grazing against one anothers. You tilt yourself upwards, towards him, giving him a better angle. Then he really kisses you, capturing your lips in his. It’s sweet, it’s soft, it’s...it’s everything. It’s everything, how his hands tangle themselves tentatively in your hair, how he kisses you so deeply, drinking you in.

His hand cups your cheek, then he’s pulling back, just a tiny bit, to mumble against your lips, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.”

The only appropriate way you can think to verbalise your agreement, is closing the gap between your lips again. There’s an urgency to it this time. Your lips move quickly, passionately. He swipes his tongue across your lower lip and you let him in, your tongues delicately dancing together. He’s good. He’s good and you don’t even notice the morning breath or faint taste of rum, it’s just Spencer.

When you finally come apart, you’re out of breath.

“I didn’t think you’d ever do that,” you say, “I was worried I was reading this whole thing wrong.”

He frowns then, that little nose crinkle appearing again, “I thought I was too obvious.”

“So did I. Maybe it’s best if we don’t tell Hotch how bad we are at profiling each other. He might rethink his decision to take us on.”

He laughs, “Not being able to profile when somebody’s in love with you might be a cause for concern. There are several obvious phyical signs of love, including dilation of pupils when looking at the object of your affection, heart rate synchronisation.”

“How am I supposed to know if our heart rates have synchronised?”

He smiles. Pressing a finger to your lips, he dips his head in the small chasm between your two chests. In the silence, in the early morning quiet, in the absence of all distraction you can hear it. The steady thrum of your hearts, pounding away at identical paces. The sound that told you that some part of you had always known.

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

Tagslist: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician (let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from this list)

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x you #bau!reader

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purpletaecup · 4 years

Photo

10 ☾ he said that’s how he still remembers me

warnings: explicit language (cursing), mentions of miscarriage, mentions of infidelity (not rlly but on thin ice)

notes: you guys... this is a long one and it’s kind of fast paced, but we are finally getting some answers and the drama really begins! next chapter will be emotional, that’s all I know. I’m sorry for putting you through all this angst!! also, I wanted to bring some attention to the crisis in the Philippines right now with all of the dangerous typhoons. A lot of people need donations and rescuing, so HERE is a link to a twitter thread of donation drives! Please make sure to check it out, share and help spread awareness!

as always, come talk to me in my ask box! and if you want to be added to the taglist, please send an ask, or reply to this post or the masterlist!

not edited!! sorry if there are any mistakes lmfao i usually am sleep deprived when i write so yeah, there are probably some errors.

word count: 5,614

☾

The days following Jungkook’s visit were dull, if anything. You’ve received texts from Yoongi saying that he couldn’t come visit until that weekend because he had to finish wrapping things up in advance at the company so that he could spend some time with you. You had argued over the phone like teenagers when you insisted that he didn’t need to do that and you could take care of yourself until Jin came back. Of course, that led to him ranting about what the doctor said about monitoring you and your symptoms for concussion and to get him to just shut up about the medical stuff (it made your brain hurt more than it did usually), you reluctantly agreed to his ‘visits’, as you’d rather call them.

[nov. 20, 2020]

It was Friday now and you still haven’t gotten any glimpse of actual memories back, although you have been having these strange dreams that you couldn’t really remember when you woke up. You could only describe the feeling it gave you as ‘sinking’, like you were drowning and you couldn’t escape. As much as possible, you tried not to think about these feelings, and focused more on trying to get to know the version of you who lived in this amazing apartment.

The past couple of days that you spent at this apartment put you in awe. It really was the apartment of your dreams, from the color of the furniture down to the little plants stuck in the corner of that tiny shelf in the kitchen. It was beautiful and so you. The only problem was that you couldn’t find anything to help with your current situation. You scoured every nook and cranny and couldn’t find anything dated after your wedding reception. No pictures, no post-its, notes or anything past that date. What you had found in your apartment, you already knew of (aside from the wedding photos). Past photoshoots, high school photos, a notebook full of movie ticket stubs. There was absolutely nothing in this apartment that gave you a clue to the life you lived during the four year gap in your memory.

You even tried to get into your twitter and instagram from when you were nineteen but you couldn’t log in. Wrong password every single time. When you tried to change your password for social media, the email you used had a different password too. You couldn’t figure out what you could have changed your password to. Every password combination you could think of, you tried, but none worked, so you decided to just skip that and maybe go over it later on. Or make a new one. That could work, too.

You couldn’t even look at your twitter account because for some reason, it was private and that seemed strange for someone with almost 130,000 followers. You could see your instagram account from your browser, but it wouldn’t let you see the pictures and posts in full size with the captions and comments, so you were really stuck.

A quick internet search of your name yielded things you already knew. Former model, current writer (that fact was still surprising to you). Old news articles of dating scandals that weren’t true, except for the one with Yoongi. More news articles about your divorce with no further information than what Yoongi had told you already.

It’s as if any clue about your life during your memory loss is unaccounted for. It seemed like at this point, you could only rely on other people telling you about your life and pray to whatever higher power there was to give you your memories back.

This futile search was beginning to make your stomach churn. You almost couldn’t suppress the bile rising up in your throat. Hopefully Jin would return soon. Maybe he could put all of the pieces back together for you.

☾

Jungkook sat in on the uncomfortable leather couch in Yoongi’s office as he waited for the man to finish up whatever he was typing. He looked through his instagram feed and saw one of your posts from July. For a while, he was confused as to why this picture from July would end up on his feed, but he remembered the new instagram algorithm. Curious, he clicked on your profile and looked through it slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually paid attention to your posts.

“I forgot to ask but what did you and Yn do at her apartment? She said you stayed over for a couple of hours.” Yoongi asked though his eyes never strayed from his paperwork.

Jungkook looked up at him and pondered on what to say.

“Hm, yeah. I got roped into staying. She asked a bunch of questions and we looked through her apartment and her photo albums. Her apartment’s cute, by the way. Way different from what your house looked like.” He comments.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It was bright. Lots of green. Nothing I’ve ever seen in the house you guys shared.”

“How was she when you picked her up? She told me a couple of things but I haven’t seen her yet so I can’t know if what she’s telling is the truth or not.”

It was quiet for a moment, with only the sound of turning pages filling the room, as Jungkook wondered what to say to this. He didn’t really know when to start with you, especially with how different you were acting.

“Well, she’s fine. The personality is definitely different. She seems a lot more outgoing, and she had a lot of questions but she didn’t push. I think she wants to try and figure things out on her own.” Jungkook replies as he continued to slowly look through your previous instagram posts.

“She’s been like that. She hates being a burden and gets really defensive about it sometimes.” Yoongi comments.

Jungkook pauses at your most recent post. He checks the date. September 22.

“When did you guys divorce again?” He asked.

At this, Yoongi looked up.

“The divorce was finalized on September 29, I think.” He answered, but looked questioningly at Jungkook as if to ask why.

“Did you know she was going to therapy?” Jungkook asked again.

Hearing this, Yoongi stood up abruptly and hurried over to where Jungkook was sitting.

“What? Where did you see that?” Yoongi asked as he looked over Jungkook’s shoulder.

Jungkook showed him the post. Yoongi took the phone from him and examined the post carefully.

It was a picture of clouds with text on it. Is this the life we really want? The caption read “as per the advice of my therapist, i’m just here to pop in and say that I’ll be going on a hiatus for a little bit”.

“What the fuck? I didn’t know this!” Yoongi yelled, evidently angry.

Jungkook looked at him confused. They were together for four years, how could he not know that you were at least going to therapy?

The same question was running through Yoongi’s head. He took a seat next to Jungkook to process this new information.

“Hyung, can I ask you a couple of questions?” Jungkook requested.

Yoongi could only nod.

“What was Yn like when you were together? Why did you marry her?” Those were the first questions that came out of Jungkook’s mouth.

He was truly, genuinely curious. Though he’s heard some things that Yoongi had said about you, he never knew the full story.

“We married each other because we loved each other. Wasn’t that obvious?” Yoongi retorted.

Jungkook pursed his lips at this. “Well that's what you tell everybody and yeah we get it, but considering the fact that I’ve barely seen you two together more than two handful of times in the past two years, I had to ask.”

“That’s because we were both busy, but that didn’t mean we didn’t spend time together. Of course you never saw it because you weren’t there and I’m not one to actively talk about my love life. Yn and I both liked our privacy.”

“Okay, then what was she like when you were together?”

Yoongi was quiet for a while. There were a lot of things he could say about you when you were together. He just didn’t know how to articulate it to Jungkook.

“When we were together… she was charismatic, beautiful and intelligent. Something about the way she communicated made you feel like you could forget about all of your worries and live life to its extent with her. She constantly dragged me out to picnics and made me forget about the business and my career. She made me feel young again. And she had so much love and care for people around her. For a long time, I felt like I would never be deserving of her. She was kind of like a sunflower. Or sunshine, you know what I mean?” Yoongi poured out.

Jungkook nodded. He realized that this was the time to try to figure out what happened to you in your marriage. From his conversation with you at your apartment, to the description of you that Yoongi had just given, he surmised that the version of you that he knew was someone different and he could only wonder if Yoongi saw it too.

“Did you ever feel like she changed? In the time you guys were together?” He probed.

Yoongi thought about it for a while.

“Yeah, I think so. I always found it strange that she decided to quit modelling. When I met her, she said it was all she ever wanted. I never asked because it seemed like a sensitive topic to her, but I supported her regardless. Writing seemed so out of nowhere for her. I don’t know where it came from. Then she stopped wanting to go to business dinners and events with me and after that we just drifted. And in between that, you introduced me to Yura.”

When Yoongi mentioned Yura, Jungkook winced. He had thought about it some nights ago, but he realized that he might have had a hand in your divorce by introducing Yura to Yoongi. Though he knows Yoongi would have never physically cheated on you, he could see how Yoongi and Yura gravitated towards each other. Jungkook had to admit that Yura was a sweet girl. She was beautiful, and when she smiled it was like sunshine.

Yoongi interrupted his train of thought. “Yura is kind of a complicated subject to our marriage. I would never, ever cheat on someone I loved. And I loved Yn, so much. When you introduced Yura to me, I was happy to meet a new friend and that’s all I saw, but the more you made me hang out with you guys, the more I started to see something in her that I stopped seeing in Yn. I never meant to have any sort of romantic feelings for Yura, but it happened and I feel so fucking shitty for doing that to Yn when I’m the one who promised her a lifetime together.”

Jungkook straightened his posture as Yoongi’s confession.

“Wait, what do you mean by that?” He asked.

“By what?” Yoongi looked at him confused.

“What happened to Yn that pushed you to Yura?”

At this, Yoongi scratched his head.

“I wouldn’t say that it pushed me to Yura, but remember when I said Yn and I started getting distant? As time went on, I felt like she changed and I didn’t know who she was. She used to be so bubbly and happy and always wanting to go look at flowers, but towards the end of our marriage, she stayed holed up in our room no matter how much I asked her to spend time with me. Yura, she was happy to spend time with me. She made me feel like I could forget about everything just by talking to me.”

“Yura made you feel like how Yn used to make you feel?” Jungkook cut him off.

“Well… I guess so.”

Jungkook thought about this for a while but narrowed his eyes at his hyung.

“Hyung, answer this truthfully; do you love Yura?”

The tips of Yoongi’s ears turned red after hearing this.

“Love? I don’t know. I like her? I like the way she makes me feel. She’s beautiful and smart and she makes me happy.”

“Hyung, I don’t know if you realize this, but the way you described Yura is exactly the same way you described Yn.”

“What do you mean?”

“It sounds like you started liking Yura because she reminded you of Yn when you met her. So, do you really, truly like Yura? Or do you just like her because she reminds you of what you don’t have anymore?”

Yoongi lowered his head.

“I-I don’t know. I never thought of it like that.”

Jungkook put his hand on Yoongi’s back to comfort him. Obviously, the man was confused.

“I don’t know if this helps, but I just wanted to let you know that whenever I saw Yn, during those dinners or events, she never gave off the vibe that you described her to be. To me, she was quiet, reserved and never bothered trying to get to know us, your friends, or your business. That’s what she came off as. When you told us that you loved each other and that you eloped, I thought you were joking. When I saw her, she just seemed like the typical trophy wife. Just for show. I never liked her and wondered what you saw in her all the fucking time, but now after hearing this, and after being with her for a couple of hours, it’s obvious that something happened that fucked her up and then fucked your marriage up.” Jungkook ranted.

“I think you might need to reevaluate the relationship you had with Yn so we could help her recover from this whole amnesia thing and hopefully figure out what happened. Something definitely happened, but since I don’t know your marriage like you do, I don't know what it is. I feel guilty now after realizing that I might have had a hand in whatever the fuck she was going through. And maybe figure out what you’re going to do about Yura. Can you keep dating her when your feelings for her are based off of your feelings for your ex-wife, who is currently pregnant with your wife and doesn’t know about it?” He continued.

Yoongi took a deep breath, taking all of this conversation in.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m almost done with the shit here at the company. When I go home, I’ll sort everything out and talk to Yn and Yura tomorrow. I don’t think I can keep seeing Yura with the current situation. I have to tell Yn about the pregnancy as soon as possible, but I’m scared because the doctor told me to monitor for residual symptoms for her concussion. I don’t even know where to begin with the situation.”

“It’s okay, hyung. I’m here for you. You have to tell her about the pregnancy before she finds out herself. In the meantime, I’ll help you out when you can’t take care of her. I already feel shitty enough for how I acted with her when you two were married. I feel like I had the wrong impression this whole time.” Jungkook offered.

Yoongi remembered the moment earlier when Jungkook confessed that he never liked you and that baffled him because he thought that you two, of all people, would get along well together. More often than not, he would feel jealous of Jungkook, who had your admiration when you first started dating. He remembered you always asking him to introduce you to Jungkook and it took a year for him to budge and actually make it happen.

“I’m sure you’ll get along now. I always thought you did get along. Did you know she liked you before?” Yoongi asked.

Jungkook shook his head. “I didn’t know until the other day when you had me take her home. It probably would have helped if you told me she knew who I was before you introduced us after you got together. She never acted like she was a fan of my music and admittedly, I was a dick to her.”

Yoongi glared at him. It was a first for him to hear about how Jungkook treated his ex-wife.

“Well, you should feel shitty because she really liked you and your music. For a while, I thought she liked you more than me. If I had known you were an asshole to her, I probably would have ripped you a new one. Hearing you admit you treated her like shit makes me feel like shit because I never knew and just assumed you guys were good with each other. You didn’t do or say anything bad to her, right? You’re not that type of person.”

Jungkook could only pretend to smile at Yoongi as he asked this.

He shook his head and lied. “No, never.”

Lying through his teeth to his best friend about how he treated you made his heart fall to his stomach. Well, Yoongi didn’t have to know because it was in the past. You couldn’t remember any of the mean things he’d said to you, so now was the perfect time to make a new, much better impression of himself to you. He decided days ago that he would be better, because deep down, he knew that you didn’t deserve to be treated like how he treated you.

[nov. 21, 2020]

Yoongi had taken the day off after his somewhat enlightening conversation with Jungkook last night. He decided that he needed to go see you and spend some time with you today, but before that, he needed to settle things with Yura.

They decided to meet up at his apartment for maximum privacy, just in case anything happened. He wanted to account for the worst case scenario of Yura probably getting angry and throwing things around, but he doesn’t think she’s the type of person to do dramatic things like that.

Turns out, she’s not. When he reluctantly tells her that he can’t continue on with what they had because of residual feelings for you, in addition to the fact that there were complications in that relationship that he can’t speak about carelessly, she had reacted calmly and amicably. Though Yoongi hadn’t expected her to throw a tantrum, he was expecting some kind of anger, but all he got was a sad look passing on her face followed by comforting words.

He apologized profusely for having dragged her around when he still had apparent feelings for his ex-wife and not figuring out his feelings for her, or lack thereof, sooner. She reassured him that it was okay and she’ll be fine.

“I’ll be fine Yoongi. I liked you, but it’s pretty obvious that you used me as some kind of rebound or replacement for your ex-wife, and I was okay with it. Truthfully, I was waiting for you to just come clean and break it off with me. I hope you and Yn figure things out this time, and I hope you can talk to her. Communication is important.” She reminds him before she leaves, but not before letting him know that she would always be there for him as a friend.

He had texted her after she left, and after a couple of minutes to himself, that he was thankful for her being so nice about the situation and all in all, he didn’t regret whatever short-lived affection they had for each other.

Yoongi still couldn’t believe how smoothly everything with Yura went. He hoped that the rest of the day would be the same.

☾

You woke up to a message from Jungkook asking if you were free, so you had to tidy up the apartment and yourself because you didn’t want to look messy in front of someone you had idolized for a long time.

Luckily enough, you didn’t have to cook since Jungkook offered to bring food. You thank your lucky stars for that because for some reason, you’ve been feeling incredibly sluggish and nauseous. It was probably some symptoms of the concussion you suffered. You remembered your doctor saying something about that the last time you were at the hospital.

About 20 minutes later, you heard your doorbell ring so practically skip to the door, excited to see Jungkook and steal the food that he brought.

You opened the door to see Jungkook standing there with a big back of food in his hands. He was wearing all black, with a leather jacket that looked a tad too big on him.

“You look warm.” You comment.

He rolled his eyes. “Are you gonna invite me in or not? I even brought you food.”

You laugh a little and move to the side to give him room to step inside the apartment.

“So, what have you been doing?” He asks as he makes his way to your dining room to put the food down.

You make your way to the kitchen to get some plates for the both of you.

“Nothing. I’ve been trying to look for some stuff but I don’t know where to start so I just gave up until you or Yoongi could come help.” You reply as you move to the dining room to set the plates down.

Jungkook takes the food out and puts some on the plates. Kimbap, like you asked, and some seaweed soup.

“How have you been feeling? Okay?” He questioned.

You nodded, though hesitantly.

“Eh, I’ve been feeling kind of tired. I think I might be sick because I keep wanting to vomit. Is that my wintermelon tea, by the way?” You pointed to the drink in his hand.

Jungkook poked the straw through the lid and handed it to you.

“Sick? Did you take any medicine? Are you feeling better now?”

You took a sip of your tea and sighed, missing the sweet taste of the drink. It felt nostalgic.

“Mhm, took some earlier and I'm feeling much better thanks to the food you brought!” You smiled.

Jungkook rolled his eyes jokingly once again. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

He didn’t think about your illness any further. It was probably a cold and nothing else.

For about 20 minutes, the two of you ate and spoke about little things, mostly about Jungkook and his career. It helped you get to know him a little bit better since he’s the only person besides Yoongi who could help you in your situation until Jin comes back.

After you finished eating, you told him that you needed his help going through your room in case there was anything that could jog your memory.

“I would ask Yoongi but he’s been busy lately.”

“So I’m just your last resort?”

“You’re literally the only other person in my contact list besides Yoongi and Jin.”

“Right, anyways, lead the way!” He exclaimed.

You laughed as you led him to the room at the end of the hallway.

“Sorry if it’s a little messy, I didn’t have that much time to clean up before you got here!” You explained.

Jungkook shook his head, telling you it didn’t really matter since it was gonna be a mess anyways while you two went through your things.

☾

When Jungkook walked into your room, he was once again hit with the feeling that he had no fucking clue who you were in the past years he’d known you. If he could describe your room in one word, it would be enchanting. White walls, white sheets adorn with a baby blue blanket, wooden floors, giant plants and a mirror much bigger than himself. Your desk was filled with different kinds of pens, different notebooks that look to have been trifled through, and an unnatural amount of books and crystals.

From the looks of the rest of your house, he probably shouldn’t be surprised at your bedroom, but it’s still a bit difficult for him to wrap his mind around the fact that you were this type of person. Bright, intelligent, and incredibly neat.

He walked up to your desk and picked up the different notebooks laid out messily on the table. When he opened each of them, he noticed that they were mostly blank, with the exception of a few doodles. There were some things he’d recognized as lyrics from songs he knew, but nothing truly relevant to the memories you lost.

You stood next to Jungkook and looked at the notebooks in his hands.

“I went through those already. Nothing but a few sad lyrics here and there. None of them triggered any memories.” You mentioned.

Jungkook put them down and started walking around the room with you as you talked about what you did find during the days that you were left alone. What he got from that conversation was that you had no luck with anything and that’s why you waited until either he or Yoongi could come over and help you. Jungkook knew that Yoongi was coming over later, so if he couldn’t help you find anything or answer any of your questions today, then maybe Yoongi could.

“Oh! I forgot to mention that I can’t even access any of my social media, so do you think I can look through my instagram through your phone? I mean, if that’s okay with you. I know some people feel uncomfortable giving their phone to someone else to play around with.” You asked.

Jungkook shook his head and stuck his hand in his pant pocket, reaching for his phone.

“It’s fine, you can look at your profile, I think I follow you. The password is 061313.” He stated as he handed his phone over to you.

You grabbed it excitedly, finally getting the chance to see what your life was like during the four years that were missing from your memory. You fell back onto your bed as you unlocked Jungkook’s phone and clicked on his instagram app quickly.

You took a look at his profile first, staring in awe at the pictures he’s posted. Most of his pictures are very dark and he had quite a few selfies. You smiled a little bit as you admitted in your head that he was indeed handsome.

Okay, Yn, onto the more important things! You thought to yourself as you quickly searched your username ‘faeyn’ on the search bar. At first you were excited, but it deflated when you saw just how many posts you had. 13 posts. And almost all of them were just landscapes. Some had pictures of you by yourself, or with Jin, but that was it. How the fuck were you supposed to try to figure out your life through 13 pictures?

Scrolling through each picture and their captions from the oldest to newest, you quickly realized that you must have decided that privacy was something that should be valued. There was nothing of substance to your situation in the captions you’d written. Just casual mentions of how your day was, or what you did that day. The only thing that caught your eye was the latest post you had, dated September 22. It was a picture of clouds and the caption said something about your therapist advising you to take a break, so you were going to be on a social media cleanse for a while.

Well, at least you learned one thing. Apparently, you started going to therapy again. For what? You don’t know. You only remembered going to therapy a couple of times after the whole incident with your bastard ex-boyfriend.

You filed this little detail into your brain and hoped that maybe it would make more sense later on. Swiping up on Jungkook’s phone took you to his home screen, but you paused for a little. Maybe you could snoop through some more apps and see if there was anything else you can find.

No, that would be an invasion of Jungkook’s privacy, you thought. Another part of you argued that he wasn’t going to know and he’s here to help you. If there was anything worth hiding, he wouldn’t have given you his phone and his password so easily. And if there was anything, it wouldn’t be incriminating since he mentioned that you two didn’t really know each other that well, so you shrugged and clicked on his messages.

I’ll just see if there are any messages to me. I won’t look at anything else, you justified, as if it made it any better.

After scrolling for a little while, you finally saw something worthwhile. A text convo between you and Jungkook and from the preview of the message, it looks like it was from the middle of September. You opened it, excited to see the contents, but what you saw made you furrow your brows.

What is this?

☾

After Jungkook gave you his phone, he continued walking around your room until he got to the side of your bed that was next to the window. He looked around for a bit and saw something in the corner of his eyes. Crouching down lower, he saw something on the floor behind your headboard. He couldn’t tell what it was at first, but as soon as he moved closer, he realized it was a thick notebook. Jungkook surmises that you probably hadn’t seen it despite telling him that you looked ‘everywhere’. He took the notebook and sat down on the floor, completely hiding his figure, but not before he could look at you. He wanted to see what was in the notebook before he showed it to you, and luckily enough, you had been facing away from him.

So he sat down and opened the notebook. From just the first page, he could tell it was some kind of diary or journal. There were lots of drawings and stickers and a picture of you in a field of flowers right in the middle of the first page. He flipped through the whole notebook really quickly and found that half of it was already filled.

A part of him wanted to read through the whole thing and see what kind of things you wrote, but another part told him that it wasn’t appropriate. Despite that, he convinced himself that he should read maybe just one entry, just to see if this notebook was something substantial to your current situation.

Jungkook took a peek at you again and noticed you still had your back turned to him so he took that as a sign that he could probably get away with reading an entry. He flipped to a page randomly and focused his eyes on the writing.

The entry was dated August 4, 2020. Fairly recent. He noticed that there were some dark blotches on the paper that made the ink bleed.

He began to read the entry, not knowing what he was going to find out.

It still seems weird to be writing about my problems in a journal. I’m still not used to it, but it’s been helpful since I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this.

That made him frown.

I went to my OBGYN today because I’ve been having severe cramps and bleeding, but I already had my period so I was worried. And the cramps were starting to really hurt, so I had to go get it checked out just in case. Well, apparently I was pregnant and lost the baby.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he gasped audibly. Luckily enough, it wasn’t loud enough for you to notice. He clasped his hand over his mouth at the disbelief in reading this information. A miscarriage? And so recent, too. He didn’t know how to feel. Yoongi had never said anything about this.

Jin actually just left my house a couple of hours ago. I don’t think the news hit me until now. I texted Yoongi earlier to tell him but he was busy so I think that was a sign that I should probably not tell him. It’s not like it matters right? Since the baby was gone anyways.

I know my therapist told me to stop with the negative self-talk, but it’s moments like this that really push me to just keep thinking I’ll never be good enough for the men that I love. Thanks to my bastard ex for fucking my mind up like this. No matter how hard I try, I always just circle back to the fact that I wasn’t good enough for him, and that I’m not good enough for Yoongi. Even fate is telling me that I’m not good enough to carry a child with the man I love. How fucked up is that?

Jungkook’s heart dropped to his stomach. He felt sick. There were so many things going through his head right now. He felt like he was violating something that was so private. Yoongi didn’t even know that you went through this. You didn’t even know you went through this. He shut the journal quickly, wiping the tears that formed in his eyes.

At that exact moment, he heard your heavy breathing and quickly got up to check on you. He walked around to your side of the bed and found you trembling with his phone in your hands. He noticed that his messages were open and he began to panic.

“What the fuck is this?” was the last thing he heard you say before your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you fell limp into your bed.

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taglist: @victoriedulce @yoongistruth @rebeccawoodrow @moon-asia @koochiekoo @sonderkook @fangirling-gallifreyan @teresaisla @veronawrites @haeilove @rjsmochii @mama-m0chi @agustd-2020 @imluckybitches @dreamer95 @coldfreakeggsexpert @loveyoongles @selfproducingfanfictionauthor @mr-robot-x @alinerl @lunaarya @somewhereinthestarss @moonlitmyg @liriaus @coolpeanutskeletonpersona @scentedsope @seoul9711 @sbtzhoe @ggukkieland @mariand @deolly @fandomstogetherweunite @pairdeune @baekstans @mickmoon @iamnamjoonsbxtch @cloudbuffalo @kimmalik @laabellaavitaa21 @liveoffyou @vantedollz @1this1is1me1 @yulisaangelica @madnesstaking0ver @venxtaetae @pimpnameyannie @bobrouxsky @cheesecakes-randomshitz @ceoofjjksimping @minclangyyy @ysljoon @eilenebeniquez @laurynne5 @jalexad @yoongicap @hellotherehoneybee @thequeen-kat @haveumetbadeth @goldenkookietae @miss-jupiter @arcadechick @neverthefirstchoice @zxlummxxd

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serenityseventeen · 3 years

Text

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Second Letter

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

To: Yoon Jeonghan

From: Y/N

Dear Jeonghan,

I hope everything's going well with you, wherever you are. I'm writing you a letter without knowing where you are so even if I did ever decide to send this letter, I wouldn't know where to mail it.

Are you doing well? Why don't you call me? Contact me somehow? Why don't you say something to me? Don't you have anything you want to say to me? Oh right, you don't have my number. I don't know any of your social media accounts and you don't know any of mine. I can search on Facebook for you, through a thousand different “Yoon Jeonghan” profiles, but what would be the point?

Actually, I'm angry with you. I'm really angry and I'm a bit heartbroken too because you just took my heart and left.

Why didn't you tell me beforehand?

I waited for you to return. I spent the rest of my freshman year waiting and I even waited through my summer break, hoping that maybe you'd come back or send a letter. School starts in a month and you still aren't here. I don't know what I feel toward you anymore because you're gone. Do I love you since I'm angry at you like this?

From the first day we met, I could tell we didn't match. I don't even know why you pursued me. You joined the basketball team and whenever you had games, you wanted me to come to watch. I didn't know why so I refused the first few games.

We had many classes together, you know that. Did you use the advantage of being in the same classes as me to try to get to know me? What were your intentions when you asked me if I had lunch? Why did you always ask my friends if I was eating well?

I have so many questions I'm dying to ask now that you're gone. One day you were laughing, joking with me while I watched you practice basketball and the next day you suddenly disappeared. One day of absence turned into months, then half a year. I didn't want to ask but I was dying to know.

Then, the answer finally came.

You moved?

Why didn't you tell me anything?

I thought we were developing something special, was that only me? I thought that you liked me, that's why you did so many things to me, making my heart race and pound. Am I wrong?

If I am wrong, why did you do it?

Maybe I'm completely getting the wrong idea and the sudden move wasn't your fault. I bet that it wasn't your fault. I'm just angry that you didn't inform me. Not everyone moves houses in one day, it takes a lot of planning, doesn't it?

Now I'm just left here, confused.

Now I'm just left here, reminiscing about my second love that disappeared. I'm still remembering the first day we met when you bumped into me at the stairs and held me to keep me from falling backward.

Jeonghan, just, where did you go?

I know this message will never reach you anyway, anyhow, so I'll tell you this much.

Because of you, I changed. Hanging out around a mischievous guy like you made me pick up your habits. Before I knew it, I was playing small pranks on my dad and enjoying it, just like when you and I teamed up to prank the gym teacher into thinking that he had sat on a freshly painted bench. I can still remember how long I laughed because of it.

I still have the pen that you forgot when you were here to study with me. My father constantly asks me where you are and I always reply that I don't know because I don't know.

You came by twice every week for three months because you wanted me to tutor you. I don't know if I became a sheep to you but even though I knew you were gifted intelligent, I tutored you anyway. Jeonghan, you were one of those people who didn't need to study to ace a test. Even your methods of trickery are intelligent.

So as I reminisce, I also wonder why you would do something like that if you didn't like me. You were the one who told me that all men act like this, wanting to be around someone, making up excuses to stay close, and doing things they won't normally do if they like someone. Was that all a trick, Jeonghan?

Not only did you study with me but you studied the times that my dad was gone and came by when he wasn't here. You were respectful toward my dad and kind too, so I wondered how you could have such a naughty nature but at the same time be so caring.

It was one of those days when my dad went to work that you came over. Look, I was so confused that's why I kept stuttering. I knew that you weren't supposed to be at my house at that time of night so we stayed on the porch, gazing at the fallen sky. What were you thinking about? You stared for a long time and didn't say a word. It was the middle of winter too and you came by with your hands tucked in your puffy black jacket with your nose cutely red. You remember this night, don't you? If you don't, I'd go even more nuts than I did.

Why did you kiss me that night?

I mean, we weren't even talking, just gazing at the sky where stars were barely visible. Then all of a sudden, you said, “Look at me.”

I turned to you and then all of a sudden, you kissed me. I honestly didn't expect to get a kiss this early in my life and for it to be from you, the second love who disappeared, I can't be any more disappointed.

Jeonghan, the thief.

Your lips were cold at first but then they grew warm. I'm also sorry if I didn't know how to kiss. I just went with the flow and followed the way your thin lips moved against mine. Your hand also touched my neck as you kissed me, I could still feel the warmth of it lingering on my skin.

After you left that night after kissing me quietly, making my heart burn in the cold night, you stroked my hair. I ran inside my room and rolled on my bed, wanting to scream on my bedsheets because my lips have finally been pressed against another man. A boy that I liked at that.

How about you?

Do you think about that night at all?

It was about two days before you moved away.

Strangely, the next days, you continued to talk to me as if you didn't kiss me the days before. I was confused but since I was naive, I just believed that's how it went for everybody.

Also, because of that kiss, I began to notice your gaze. Maybe I could have noticed something in those two days before your departure. I just remember seeing you gazing at me with different eyes. I want to believe that you had fallen for me, but because of you, I'm being delusional like this.

The only way to know is when you finally decide to speak it true somewhere and it reaches me.

In this letter to you, I just can't help expressing the emotions I'm feeling. I have nowhere else to rant and I need you to know about my feelings though you'll never receive this letter.

Gosh, writing this letter makes me remember the weekend that you took me biking on a couple bicycle. Why did you ask me to go with you when you were leaving the next day? It's not like you at all. Knowing you for those short six months, you would have just told me with a pitiful face, “I'm going to move.”

Instead, you kissed me and decided to take me biking. I can still remember that grin on your face when you came to my house and said, “Hop on, Y/N.”

The wind that hit my face that day was amazing and my heart was racing just to have my hands around your waist.

Because of you, I became rebellious for the first time. I never disobeyed my father. He told me to go buy groceries that day and I went on a bike ride with you, enjoying the chilly winter breeze and ditching groceries. When we arrived at the basketball court, I watched and played a bit of basketball with you. Do you know what that means, Jeonghan?

Were you aware this whole time of my feelings? I know you can read other people's expressions well.

I can't understand you, Jeonghan. I don't think I ever will unless you come back and tell me.

I won't believe what any of your friends say even if it's the only source I have. ‘You moved away because a different high school was giving you bigger opportunities’, how am I supposed to believe that? In the middle of the school year?

Now, all I can do is sigh.

I won't wait for you anymore. That's why I'm just going to leave it. I loved you. Now, you're just one of the boys I've loved. I'm not going to spend the rest of my summer waiting to find a needle in a haystack.

I'll remember how I loved you. I'll remember how you changed me. I'll remember how loving you changed me.

I'll wonder sometimes about what we could have been if you didn't leave. If you didn't leave, I think I would have still been in love with you. Now, I'm pretty sure I would still be in love with you, at least for a little longer.

Please, send me a letter.

I know the chances are low.

I'm still angry at you for not telling me. If you did like me and think you did it for our own good, you're wrong. At least I wouldn't have had to wait and worry for the weeks that you disappeared that your life's clock stopped ticking. If you did tell me beforehand, I would have known that you'd be fine and that you were just moving away.

Did you have no faith in us?

Or did you really find a better opportunity in a better high school somewhere far away?

I'm still angry.

Is this what you call ‘the one that got away’?

Anyway, I don't love you now, but if you come back, I might again. I can't make up my mind.

I miss you, Jeonghan.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

6/18/21 - 9:51 pm

a/n: SEVENTEEN back on Instagram?? Seungcheol, Minghao, Vernon, Joshua, and Seungkwan posted today/yesterday. I didn't even notice WOOZI changed his profile picture. Also, I find Seungkwan and Seungcheol so funny...

SC: you are my escape

SK: you are my s.coups

But yay? Seventeen is back on Instagram!

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writesowhatnext · 4 years

Text

talk trash, get brass // george weasley

Summary: someone bad-mouthing George has make him a little insecure – it’s definitely time for the reader to step in

Request: can i request fred or george dating the reader and she's with her friends and he overhears one of them talking shit about him [he's worried y/n will agree and gets sad :(] but she defends him and says she genuinely loves him 😘 thanks xx

A/N: this took me forever because I can’t choose between the twins but also I was fighting making it a slytherin!reader bc the slytherin girls are written as catty bitches which would make this easier but we move also I wrote planked by his ravenclaw buddies and nearly had a stroke also I dragged Michael Corner’s character through the mud #sorrynotsorry also have I miraculously forgotten how to write in character????

Reader: unspecified

Warnings: swearing, bad friends, argument

“Fred,” you said, finding him in the Great Hall with half of a ham sandwich stuffed into his mouth. “Why is George ignoring me?”

He rolled his eyes when you sat down, watching him with an expectant look as you drummed your fingers impatiently on the table.

“Lovely to see you too, Y/N,” he said, wetting his lips and waving the other half of his sandwich around in his hand as he spoke. “Me? Yeah, I’m doing just swell actually, cheers for asking. No, I wanted the beef really but McLaggen took the last one, the thieving bastard.”

You shot him a dry look, grinding your teeth together. He rolled his eyes again at your raised eyebrows.

“Not in the mood for jokes then, are we?”

“How would you know?” you asked, huffing. “You haven’t told me any.”

“Ouch,” he whined, placing his hand over his heart in mock hurt. “You wound me.”

You sighed, brushing your hair back from your face as your shoulders slumped.

“Come on, Fred. I know you know why he’s been avoiding me.”

For a moment, Fred didn’t reply. He just stared at you, gauging your expression with his level gaze. To say you were surprised would’ve been an understatement; serious Fred was not something you were well accustomed to.

“I don’t have a clue,” he said, leaning back and throwing the rest of his sandwich lazily on his plate. You scoffed.

“Bullshit, tell me.”

“Go ask George,” he replied quickly, gripping the edge of the table with his hands as your voices got louder.

“I can’t ask George, can I, Fred? He’s the one bloody ignoring me!”

You swore sometimes that Fred and George had one brain cell between them and even that could be a bit of a stretch.

“Fine then,” Fred threw his hands up indignantly. “Ask your friend Michael! I’m sure he knows all about it!”

“What?” you said quietly, visibly taken aback, your shoulders slumping. Fred groaned, his hands coming up to hide his face.

“I definitely wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“What did Michael do?”

Fred looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there, wilting under your determined stare.

“Fred…” you said, your tone decidedly warning.

“Your mate Michael was talking bollocks about George to all his Ravenclaw buddies – which is quite rich isn’t it, really? Coming from him, the little toad. Can’t believe he dated Cho Chang; I heard Ginny might be going for him as well… pfft, there’s no accounting for- oi, where are you going?”

You barely caught the end of Fred’s rant, already racing out of the Great Hall, undecided as to whether you were in search of Michael or George first. The universe chose for you, though, when you spotted Michael circling around a corridor, flanked by some of his Ravenclaw friends.

You and Michael were more acquaintances than friends. Truth be told, you only talked to him to start with to help Ginny out; she’d been looking for someone to help her get over her crush on Harry. You thought it was futile given how much she liked him, but you were always happy to help out a friend. It appeared though, that not everybody you called your friend was as friendly. Michael had been fine for a while and you found that sometimes you did actually get on with him, especially when there was nobody else around to talk to. Now, though, now you were questioning your standards.

“Hey!” you yelled, immediately drawing the attention of Michael, his friends, and the rest of the corridor. “Michael!”

“You okay, Y/N?” he asked and as you looked at him, genuine concern written all over his features, all you wanted to do was punch him.

“What have you been saying about George?”

He looked confused for a second and then guilty, and then a haughty look lifted his nose up and you were really, at that second, re-evaluating your decision not to hit him.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” he said, smiling. “You can’t be serious.”

You stepped closer to him; your hand lowered just in case you needed easy access to your wand.

“Tell me what you said about my boyfriend. I know you said something, so tell me, now.”

He looked to his friends as if considering whether you were actually serious before he scoffed.

“All I said was that you were way too smart to be with a bloke as dumb as him,” you huffed, fists clenching at his words. “I’m not wrong, Y/N, those twins are bad news and they’re hardly boyfriend-“

“Hey, Michael,” you said, trying desperately to control yourself as you frowned, head ticking to the side. “Do you remember two years ago when the Slytherin common room was pink for two weeks?”

He frowned, nervously glancing at his friends. “Sure,” he said, though he seemed anything but.

“Do you remember how they had to get Dumbledore himself to fix it because none of the other teachers could figure out how to make it green again. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah, why? What’s that got-“

“George did that. He used about eight different cloaking spells and spent weeks convincing Nearly Headless Nick to help him and Fred. Could you do that?”

He opened his mouth, but you weren’t finished. Ever since you started dating George, everyone seemed to have an opinion and you were tired of it.

“No, Michael, you couldn’t.”

With your voice raised and your determined gaze directed solely at Michael and his Ravenclaw buddies, all looking very uncomfortable, you didn’t even notice George lurking behind you.

“And you know that time that nobody could figure out how the Gryffindor Quidditch Team knew everything about the Ravenclaw strategies? That was George too. Between him and Fred, they made these things,” you found yourself getting distracted as you remembered how impressed you’d been. “These ears that you can use over massive, unprecedented distances to eavesdrop on people. That technology is legendary, regardless of what it’s used for.”

“And so,” you huffed, adjusting your robes as you leant back, aware that maybe you were being too hard on him. “You can shove your opinion, because George Weasley, my George, he’s a bloody genius. And he’s not bad news. He’s the kindest, sweetest guy and you’d be lucky to be half as patient or funny or amazing as him, alright, Michael?”

Michael looked taken aback by your outburst and even you were slightly surprised at your rant. His friends were equally caught off guard. Well, most of them. The boy on the right of him frowned, rolling his eyes. You wouldn’t have caught it had he not muttered under his breath.

“Weasley can’t fight his own battles, then?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” you reached for your wand and the boys in front of you stumbling backwards to avoid you. Before you could make them eat slugs like you so desperately wanted to, a hand caught your wrist. You spun around, brows furrowed at whoever was stopping you until you saw George’s face, all freckles and gentleness. All the anger that you’d had flooded away as he looked over your shoulder at the three Ravenclaw boys.

“I reckon you should piss off, now, don’t you?”

He didn’t have to tell them twice; within seconds they had disappeared down the corridor before you could hex them properly.

You turned to George as he slid his hand down your wrist to interlock your fingers together.

“Telling everyone my top-secret pranks, are we?” he asked, a crooked smile on his lips.

“Finally, not ignoring me anymore, are we?” you mimicked in the same tone, regretting it slightly as he sighed, his shoulders slumping.

“I’m sorry.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, your noses touching.

“I thought you’d agree with him, didn’t I?” he said quietly, pulling his top lip between his teeth. “I knew he was your friend-“

“He’s bloody not anymore, that’s for certain. He’s lucky I didn’t send him to Madam Pomfrey.”

Your anger sparked again thinking about it, but as always, George’s warm hand rubbing up and down your arm washed it away and you looked at him to see him already smiling at you.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because you think I’m kind and sweet and funny and drop-dead gorgeous.”

You smiled, shoving at him with your intertwined hands.

“I don’t remember saying you were funny. Or gorgeous.”

“I do. It was right before you called me amazing. And besides, gorgeous is bit of a given, isn’t it?”

You made a face at the way he flicked his hair and rolled your eyes but you couldn’t keep the fond smile off your face no matter how hard you tried.

“You really thought I’d agree with him?” you asked quietly, picking at your bottom lip with your teeth. He avoided your eyes. “Georgie.”

He sighed, facing you properly, his eyes trailing down your face.

“Everyone knows how out of my league you are, love,” he said, stroking your cheek with the back of his finger. “Just felt like I was punching above my weight, didn’t I?”

“Well,” you whispered, letting go of his hand to cup his cheeks. “Whilst I am objectively much better looking-“

He pinched your side, earning a grunt in response before his palms settled on your waist.

“I love you,” You pressed a kiss to his left cheek and then right. “And that,” another kiss to his nose then forehead. “Is all that matters.”

You finally pecked him on the lips, happy to see him smiling again, happy to hear his voice.

“So,” you grinned. “If anyone says anything else, just send them to me.”

“Oh, I will,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. “I like it when you get all feisty. Especially over me.”

harry potter tag list: <3<3

@creator-appreciator

@decadentwastelandtrash

@loveisblindness

@xinyourdreamsx

@brainlesspasta

@hariosborn

@staringmoony

@rexorangecouny

@ickle-ronniekins

@harrysweasleys

@alittletoomanyobsessions

@peachesandpinks

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley x reader #Harry Potter imagine #harry potter #imagine #writing

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hoekaashi · 4 years

Text

3 am Talks - hq pt 4

a/n: first and foremost, please don’t attack me for the twins’ accent. i know i didn’t even try but i also don’t have the brain capacity to do it rn. second, i know i did karasuno but i was requested to do asahi after posting it and i wasn’t gonna make a separate post for just him so i slapped his ass onto this one (: pairings: kita x reader, atsumu x reader, osamu x reader, suna x reader, sakusa x reader, asahi x reader warnings: language, some spoilers for post time skip taglist: @babydabi, @suckersuki, @bakugoustanaccount, @animoozies part 3

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

⇾ omg this boy is gonna talk about how proud he his of his teammates ⇾ like full on proud dad moment (i imagine him like that one panel from the last chapter, just so proud) ⇾ he’s such a soft man, he would talk about how he wants to start a family with you ⇾ what do you mean the sheep aren’t our kids??? ⇾ so would wear a soft smile listening to you ramble on about something ⇾ he would love to hear whatever was going on inside your mind, would never tell you to stop talking or cut you off. Ever.

You climbed into bed after waking up to pee in the middle of the night. Kita had been up for a while and you were unsure as to why he was still up. Before you fell asleep, the two of you had been watching his old teammates play a match on tv and he had been praising them the entire time. “What are you doing up still?” “I was texting in the group chat after you fell asleep and I just can’t sleep now.” You sat cross legged next to him. “What’s on your mind now?” “How I want to start a family with you in the future.” That came out of the blue. Neither of you really talked about that far in the future. “The twins started arguing again and Aran started yelling at me to get them to stop. I asked him why he was telling me to stop them and everyone replied that it was because I’m the only one they still listen to. And then everyone started talking about how I was like the team dad even after all this time and I started thinking about how I would be if I was a father and if I would still act the same. I looked down at you sleeping and the thought just came to me.” You were speechless. “I mean, not that I have any problems with having kids with you, but I wouldn’t classify the twins as test subjects on your parental qualifications. I don’t think they compare to toddlers because the twins actually listen.” “Well, that’s why we have chicken. And sheep.” Kita gave you a warm smile. “Honey, I love you, but please don’t tell me that you just compared animals to human children. Possibly ours.” “It’s okay. It’s good practice.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ for as much as i shit on him, i do love atsumu (osamu is the superior twin, sorry lei) ⇾ but this poor baby would always be in such a negative head space after losing a match ⇾ literally thinks his entire team hates him, his coach wants to replace him, his brother and ex teammates would look down on him, wondering what was so great about him ⇾ he would just need to get his feelings out without judgement - just hold him while he word vomits but sometimes he does need to hear some motivation to get him out of his funk ⇾ this kind of feeds into the other things he would talk about if he didn’t have a match ⇾ just a lot of talk about his insecurities and how he feels inferior to other people his cocky persona is fake ⇾ just wrap him in a blanket and feed him comfort food as he lets out everything weighing down on his heart

“If I didn’t fuck up five serves, we coulda won.” Atsumu was laying on his stomach with his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. “You weren’t the only person who messed up today. You can’t blame yourself for losing the game when everyone made a mistake at some point.” “But mine were so easy to prevent.” He wrapped his arms around your waist tighter. “I know when I go into practice next week, coach is gonna bench me. I’m not even mad, I deserve it.” “Tsumu, don’t say that.” “It’s true. Samu even called me out on it after. And I know the entire team wants me out.” At this point, you didn’t know what else to say because no matter what, Atsumu was going to believe that he was the worst player on the team. “I’m just holding everyone back.” Your hand stilled in his hair. “Tsumu, the only other setter who’s managed to pull off that crazy quick with Hinata is Kageyama. Plus you got Bokuto on your team too! Both of those players are so high energy and hard to manage, yet you make it look so easy. So you had an off day, everyone does. Everybody makes mistakes, everybody has those days -” He got up and glared at you before you had a chance to finish what you were saying. “Hannah Montana is not the right person to bring into this motivational speech.” “But you sing Hoedown Throwdown and True Friend on a weekly basis.” “And you better take that sentence with you to the grave.” You grinned at him. “But imagine how much money I could get for selling those twelve little words to the press.” Yes. He tackled you and made you swear on your life that you wouldn’t tell a soul.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ it depends on his mood: either he’s doing all the talking or he’s strictly listening, there’s no in between ⇾ when he’s talking, it could be about a n y t h i n g ⇾ from atsumu to food to you to work to a new show he’s watching to kita to meeting up with friends ⇾ literally anything ⇾ he doesn’t necessarily need to know you for a long time, but he does need to feel close to you if he ever talks about how he feels about you ⇾ he’s not the type to be soft of the regular, so when he is being soft, he’ll be even quieter, maybe even hide his face in your neck or your stomach depending on the position the two of you are cuddling in ⇾ when you’re the one doing the talking, his hands are always busy doing something - most of the time playing with your hair, but it could also be playing with your hands, massaging your hips, etc

“- so Kita blocked our numbers.” “I mean, you did cuss out Atsumu while his phone was on speaker and he was with his grandmother.” “How was I supposed to know that?” he asked quietly into your neck. You laughed. “Let him talk next time. You and your brother you are adults now, so stop arguing like children.” “I can’t help it, he pisses me off sometimes.” You hummed. “Give Kita a fruit basket or take him out to lunch and apologize.” He rubbed his thumb over your knuckles before pulling you closer into his chest. “Yeah I’ll do that.” “Ooo! What if you have him test out that new recipe you were telling -” “No. I always have you test new dishes and that won’t change,” he mumbled. “Samu?” He nuzzled his face further, his breath warm on your neck. His hand moved to your hip and alternated from massaging you to rubbing his hand up and down. “You’ve gotten me this far and everything worked fine. I don’t wanna change anything.” You reached back and lightly scratched the nape of his neck. You turned over and found his face closer to yours that you expected. His arm went back to resting on your hips with his hand on your butt, pulling you closer. He gave you a light kiss on the tip of your nose. “Are you saying I’m your good luck charm?” you asked teasingly. “Nothing’s gone wrong since you’ve come into my life. I’m gonna fucking marry you one day.” You smiled. “Yeah, you also said that when you got your wisdom teeth removed. I’m still waiting on the ring.” He pulled you into a hug, your head in his chest, his lips placing another kiss on your forehead. “Don’t rush me or your not getting anything.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ he wouldn’t talk at 3 am ⇾ would literally tell you to shut up and go to sleep ⇾ and if you didn’t stop talking, he would get up and either go to someone else’s place or tell you to leave ⇾ this man does not care about what you’re thinking or what you have to say when he’s trying to sleep ⇾ so don’t expect him to be all soft and listen to you - better yet, talk

“So I was thinking -” Suna grumbled. “Yeah? You better stop thinking.” “But I’ll forget in the morning.” “Then it wasn’t necessary to talk about.” “I’m gonna say it.” “You’re gonna shut the fuck up if you wanna sleep here tonight.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ a listener ⇾ would literally tell you to shut up and go to bed jk, not really ⇾ if he’s up at 3 am with you, he’s listening to music ⇾ for sure he won’t be talking and doesn’t really want to have to pay attention to whatever you’re saying ⇾ not in a rude way but like, it’s late and he doesn’t feel like using brain cells at the time ⇾ if you are talking and he loves you, he won’t tell you to shut up or stop, but don’t expect a reply from him ⇾ depending on his mood, he’ll choose to listen or not, and when he’s listening, he’ll make sure you know that he is

“Did you make this lofi playlist?” You were scrolling through your shared Spotify account on your phone, trying to find something to listen to since neither of you could sleep. “Yes.” You played it, both of you enjoying the soothing music that filled the quiet of the room. “Do you have a fanclub?” Sakusa hummed. “Is that a yes or a no?” It took him a minute, but he replied. “Not sure. Why?” “I don’t know how I feel about a group of girls drooling over you.” Were you proud? Jealous? Indifferent? You couldn’t figure it out. But the fact that he asked made you happy that he cared enough to bother listening to you. “Why should you care?” You looked over at him. “Well, what if they’re the crazy type of fans who try to break in here. Or don’t like that we’re dating and try to kill me?” He laid there in silence with his eyes closed as you spoke about all the extreme types of fans that you had heard about. Once you finished, he remained quiet. You felt bad, thinking that you bored him to sleep. “Love, I think you’ve been listening to too many true crime podcasts.” “But still, those types of people exist.” Sakusa shifted with his eyes closed, pulling you so you were resting on his chest. “Stop thinking about that. It’s stupid. Now go to sleep.” “But -” “Go to sleep.” “I can’t.” He shushed you. “Sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

.・゜-: ✧ :-　-: ✧ :-゜・．

⇾ jesus would talk about his insecurities ⇾ would catch you up with his friends aka the other third years ⇾ but also i feel like his anxiety traveled with him into adulthood so like, lots of stress talks about releasing new designs on time and not wanting to let people down/be a failure ⇾ he would talk about his travels too, the different things he enjoyed from each country he visited with noya ⇾ would make plans to go somewhere with you when both of you had the time to drop off the face of the earth for a little bit

“So where else did you want to visit?” you asked. “Maybe Switzerland?” You nodded. “That’s a good choice. Want to do anything specific?” “Not really. When I was with Noya, we kind of just winged everything. It was more exciting and memorable that way.” “I do remember you being more free.” Whenever he called you or sent you pictures and videos, he seemed more happy. “Really?” “Uh huh.” “I do remember feeling less stressed. I have a deadline coming up soon and the pressure is intense.” “Does it feel like volleyball stress?” He gave you a little shrug. “A bit? I have a team - a different type of team - and I don’t want to let them down, but in this case, I’m the captain without anyone to rely on. Everyone else needs me to have everything together, so I don’t have the time to freak out or be stressed.” “Yet, you’re still a ball of anxiety.” “Am I?” He grimaced. You nodded. “I’m trying to get better. It’s really hard when there’s a voice in the back of your mind telling you that if you mess up, everyone will be let down and disappointed in you. On top of that, the media and public are so harsh with everything. There’s just a lot of pressure.” “But you’ve done so well. Sure things were a little shaky when you first started, but you’re well known now and well loved.” “You have a point. I’ll do better for you.” You smiled. “I’m already proud of you, don’t worry about that.”

#kita shinsuke #kita x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #miya osamu #osamu x reader #suna rintarou #suna x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #azumane asahi #asahi x reader #hq #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader

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marauders-venting · 3 years

Text

I Know Him

pairing: wolfstar (remus x sirius)

genre: murder mystery fluff

warnings: several mentions of murder, child abuse, blood (stabbing and bullet wounds), hints at homophobia, hints at sex

words: 4447

a/n: this is a switching fandoms fic with harry potter characters in the sherlock holmes universe. In this fic remus is holmes and sirius is watson. I have kept certain aspects that i thought were important about remus and sirius’ personalities but i had to give them some of holmes and watson’s personality traits for the fic to make sense.

also just so you know I based this fic off the original sherlock holmes books only. I have never seen the tv shows or film adaptations but i’ve heard they are very different from the books.

It was a chilly Saturday afternoon and Remus and I were sitting together in an armchair by the window. He was reading a book but I simply stared absent-mindedly. At Remus, at the street outside, at the dust in our apartment catching the light. But mostly at Remus. Suddenly, I caught sight of a flurry of movement outside. A woman bundled up in scarves was running down the street looking flustered.

“Remus,” said I, as I watched the woman scan the numbers on the building and near our apartment, “if I am not very much mistaken, the very thing you have been craving for the past week is approaching right now.”

“A client, you say?” said Remus, laying down the paper. “About time!” His eyes lit up with excitement and I scrambled out of his lap just as a knock sounded on the door.

“Mr Lupin?” said Mrs Hudson, the landlady. “I have a Miss Anne Robinson here to see you.”

“Yes, yes let her in,” replied Remus impatiently. Within a few seconds, Mrs Hudson had returned, leading a friendly-looking, middle-aged woman into the living room. Miss Robinson had a cheerful face with wrinkles next to her eyes that come from smiling and yet she looked sullen and tired, as do many of the people who visit our rooms at 221B Baker Street to seek professional help from Remus.

“Pray take a seat, Miss Robinson and tell me your story,” said Remus eagerly. “I have had no other cases to occupy me for the past week and would be glad for a problem of any kind. You are a cook, I presume?” The woman looked startled.

“Why, yes, Mr Lupin,” she said. “I work as a cook for the Wright family. But how could you have known that?”

“It is of no importance, I assure you. I simply noticed the soup stain on your dress,” said Remus. I could hear the slight note of impatience in his voice. However, I doubt anyone but I could have noticed it.

“How very clever of you,” said Miss Robinson, smiling at him. Remus brushed the compliment aside with a gesture of his hand.

“Now what is the case that you have brought for me today?” he asked.

“Well, Mr Lupin,” began the woman, “just three days ago, tragedy struck the Wright family. I spoke to Dr Wright and he agreed that it would be best to bring the case to you. I should probably begin by explaining to you the history of the household. Mr and Mrs Wright were very fitting for one another; they loved each other very much. When they decided to have children, Dr Wright hoped against hope that the child would be a boy. He desperately wanted someone to carry on the family name and honour. Poor Mrs Wright died in childbirth and Dr Wright heavily mourned her loss. To add to the trouble, little Mary Wright was not the boy her father had hoped for. Regardless, he learned to love his daughter and cared for her always; I would even venture to say he spoiled her a bit too much, although she turned out to be a lovely, modest young lady. And the spitting image of her dear mother she was too! Never saw a girl resemble her mother more than Mary resembled Mrs Wright.”

Miss Robinson smiled serenely at the thought of the mother and daughter together but then, her mouth turned down at the corners and her eyes became watery. She blinked several times and shivered slightly before continuing with her narrative.

“Anyway,” she continued, her voice shaky and unstable, “this is where I come to the crime. Just three days ago, at 9:30 on Wednesday night, Mary and her fiance, Charles, were found dead in Mary’s bedroom. He was stabbed right in the heart and she was shot in the head. The police have their suspect and I must say that the evidence against him is quite startling, that is to say, it seems like a finished case. But I thought I had better come to you sir, for I have the strangest feeling that the police have got it all wrong and I always trust my instincts, Mr Lupin.”

“Who is this suspect and what evidence do the police have against him?” asked Remus.

“His name is Joseph Williams, sir. He is a servant of the Wrights. He was found bending over the body of Charles after a gunshot was heard. When the other servants arrived, myself included, and called out his name, a triumphant smile rested on his face, his eyes ablaze, alive.” Miss Robinson shuddered. “The mere thought of his face chills me to my very core. I don’t know why I believe him to be innocent, sir, he seems perfectly capable of committing so horrible a crime. He has confessed to the police to have loved Mary ever since he first laid eyes on her. This would, of course, explain why he would have killed her fiance. The police think that he killed Mary because he was angry with her for not requiting his love but he denies all claims. He says he would never have touched a hair on her head. And as for Charles, he says he would have very much liked to kill him but that he did not do anything of the kind.”

“Were the weapons for the crime found?” asked Remus.

“The gun was in plain sight, thrown on the floor right beside the two. But the knife has not been located.”

“And I suppose the crime scene has not been preserved if the crime happened three days ago?”

“No sir. They moved the bodies on Friday morning.”

“Very well,” said Remus, straightening up. “Then I shall like to interview the other servants and Dr Wright if possible.”

“I shall speak to him, Mr Lupin. Perhaps you could come around to the house tomorrow morning?”

“Yes, I think I shall,” replied Remus. “Alright then, I just have one question before you leave, Miss Robinson. What hotel was Dr Wright staying at that night and why was he out of town?”

“How the deuce did you know he was out of town?” asked Miss Robinson, her brows raised and her eyes wide.

“It was quite simple, really. You never mentioned anything about how he ran into the room and cried out at the sight of the couple’s dead body or anything about how he slept so heavily that he didn’t hear the shot. I have heard many recounts of murder and this detail is included every time without fail. And yet you left it out of your narrative. Therefore, he must have been out of town at the time.”

“Oh,” Miss Robinson chuckled, “you gave a fright there for a moment Mr Lupin. Dr Wright was staying at L'Hôtel D'Affaires as he had an early conference meeting the next day.”

“Very well,” said Remus, “We shall see you tomorrow morning, Miss Robinson. Good day.” And with that, she bustled off back into the now significantly more crowded street.

The following day Remus and I ventured out to the Wright house to investigate. Remus questioned the two other servants but the interviews were brief and nothing new was discovered.

“Now we shall question Dr Wright and then I might head to the station to hear Mr Williams’ account,” said Remus.

One might think that it ails me to watch Remus question so many people and not understand what he understands. However, I must admit that it is one of my greatest pleasures to watch Remus work through a case. He is the master of deduction but there are a few telling signs that allow for me to draw my own conclusions. I know that he is excited despite his efforts to conceal it. Perhaps he fools the rest of the world but not me. I have the expressions of his face memorised. The furrow of his brows when he collects his evidence, the twinkle in his eyes when the pieces fall into place in his brilliant mind, the bite of his lip when he’s concentrating (sometimes I wish I were the one biting his lip in his place), the curl of his lip when, once again, he manages to outwit everybody else in the room. I believe Remus is the only man I have ever met who can be both modest and proud at once. And I love him for it.

“I was devastated when I got the news Mr Lupin,” said Dr Wright, once we were all sat down in the living room. “Naturally, of course. My beloved wife has passed and now my daughter and son-in-law too. This was the order of events as I had it. I left that evening at 6:15 and checked into L'Hôtel D'Affaires at 7:30. I had an important conference meeting early the next morning, you see, and I abhor rising early. The next day, I was summoned by the police and told that Williams had been arrested for the murder of Mary and Charles. I never knew Williams had feelings for my daughter but I think that his actions were certainly a poor expression of love.” Dr Wright’s face tensed with anger and despair. He looked truly broken and empty, as though he were lost and unsure about what he could do now that everything he had loved so dearly was gone.

“With your permission, sir, I will ask you a few questions now,” said Remus. “Were the couple happy together?”

“Oh yes. My Mary loved Charles truly; I believe she would have done anything for him.”

“And how did you feel about the match?”

“I too was satisfied. I thought that the boy was a wonderful young man and that he would take good care of my girl. I looked forward to their marriage.”

“What was the boy’s family like?”

“Oh, they lived quite comfortably and were very kind people. I thought Mary would be happy to be welcomed to such a family.”

“Well sir, I am truly sorry for your loss; I think we shall quit your company for I think I know everything that can be of use to me.”

---------

“Now to the police station then?” I asked once Remus and I left the house.

“No,” said Remus, still deep in thought, “no, I think our time would be better spent at the town gossip house.”

“Two beers, please,” said Remus as we walked into the nearest pub and placed three two-pence coins on the bar. When the bartender handed us our drinks, Remus turned to me and said, “Did you hear about what happened up at the Wright house?” I was familiar with Remus’ tactics by now and knew that he was, in fact, not speaking to me at all but merely hoping to be overheard by one of the locals at the bar.

“Know ‘bout that now do you?” the bartender interrupted before I would have had a chance to reply. He turned to face us once more.

“Yes, I read about it in the paper,” said Remus casually. I have said it before but he is an incredible actor. He fools them all. All but me. I grow warm at the thought and a smile begins to spread across my face but I suppress it. Smiling now would seem odd at the very least, suspicious as most. “They arrested the man, didn’t they? The servant they suspected?”

“Sure did,” replied the bartender. “And I reckon ‘e’s the one ‘oo dun it, too. D’you think ‘e’s the one ‘oo caused all them yellin’s up in the Haunted Shack?”

“Excuse me?” said Remus in evident surprise.

“You ain’t from around ‘ere, mister, are you?”

“No, I can’t say that I am.”

“Well, there’s a shack up there next to the Wright ‘ouse, a right nasty shack I’ll give you that. Now them Wrights is livin’ in a nice house, ain’t nothin’ too grand but it’s more than modest. Right by the Wright ‘ouse there’s an ol’ shack, abandoned I reckon. Dr Wright had fenced it off but ‘e never ‘ad it torn down. Now sometimes, in the dead of night, we villagers would ‘ear someone sobbin’ up in that place. Once we even ‘eard a scream. Ghosts, that’s what everyone’ll tell you, that the place is haunted. Rumor ‘as it that the reason that Dr Wright never tore down the bloody thing is because ‘e fears them ghosts. But I think different. I say whoever been makin’ those noises up in there, that’s your man, that’s the murderer. It ain’t makin’ much sense but it’s the bloody truth I’d be prepared to swear to it.”

Suddenly, Remus drained his drink in a gulp and said, “That’s an interesting idea, but we really must get going, Sirius, if we’re going to make the next train.”

Next, we visited L'Hôtel D'Affaires where Remus made some small inquiries while I admired the hotel’s lounge and thought over our discussion with the bartender. Why on earth would Williams, the servant, sob and scream in an old, mangled shack? I had no answer but I was sure that Remus did.

Finally, we returned to Baker Street for a spot of supper and bed. We ate without exchanging a word until Remus suddenly broke the silence.

“This case is wrong, all wrong!” he exclaimed in frustration. “But I haven’t enough evidence just yet to get the man convicted. But I shall find it, I shall.” And with that, he marched up to bed. I waited to follow him up. On nights like this, I give Remus space to mull over his thoughts about the case alone before going to bed. He has never asked me to but I know he wants the time to think.

“Hello,” said I, upon entering the room later that night. Remus seemed to have been lost in thought; upon my entrance, his head turned sharply towards me. “Would you like me to leave?” I asked hesitantly.

“No, of course not, darling,” he said, his expression softening, revealing the man I know behind the great detective. “As a matter of fact, perhaps I should let my mind become distracted by other matters and return to the case in the morning. I sometimes find it easier to approach the facts at a different angle when doing that.”

“I could think of a few ways to keep your mind distracted,” I said, grinning at him.

“Can you now?” he smirked.

---------

The next day, Remus decided to go back up to the Wright house and search Mary Wright’s room, the place where the crime was committed, for evidence of his new theory. He came back with a triumphant look on his face that indicated success. That night, after a small supper, Remus asked if I wished to accompany him.

“Where would we be going?” I asked curiously.

“To bring this case to justice,” he replied simply. “Bring your revolver,” he added; even though I had not yet consented to join him, he knew I could not refuse an offer such as the one before me. Not only because of my all-consuming love for him, but because of my curiosity as well.

When we arrived at the Wright house – which was, apparently, our destination – the door was opened by Dr Wright himself.

“Mr Lupin,” he said in surprise. Without waiting for a reply, Remus stepped over the threshold and into the house; I was on his heel as always.

“I must insist that you leave,” said Dr Wright in rage. “What is this hour at which you call upon me? Surely what you want can wait until tomorrow?”

“As a matter of fact, it cannot,” said Remus. His amber eyes bore straight into the brown ones of Dr Wright as though seeing right through him. “I don’t often carry out the commands of murderers.”

“I—what—h–how dare you—?” spluttered the doctor but he had turned significantly paler.

“Would you like to tell the story or shall I tell it for you?” said Remus.

“You know everything?” asked Dr Wright, sinking into a chair.

“I do.”

“Then I may as well come out and say that I had no intention for it to go this far. I suppose it began with my wife. I loved her dearly and I wanted a son terribly. When Mary was born and my wife passed away, I was in agony. I felt as though I had lost everything that I held dear. Mary was the spitting image of my late wife; she was a constant reminder of my lost love which was both excruciatingly painful and necessary for my survival. I hadn’t the heart to kill the girl but the pain drove me to near insanity sometimes and in those moments I would drag Mary into the shack on the outskirts of this property and whip her with my riding crop. I treated her terribly though nobody knew, not even the servants.”

My hands began to shake at that. Memories of my own childhood filled my head. The whipping, the beating, the screaming. I clenched my hands into fists to mask the shaking but Remus noticed. He noticed everything. His hand twitched towards mine but I met his eyes and shook my head ever so slightly. Not now. And certainly not here. Only one arrest would be made tonight and it wouldn’t be either of us.

I forced myself back into the present, feeling a surge of anger towards the man sitting before me but I did nothing more than continue to glare at him. All these years working alongside Remus had taught me to control my temper if only a little. This man would get what he deserved. Hitting him now wouldn’t solve anything. It would make me feel a whole lot better, though. The thought crossed my mind but Remus met my eye again. He knew what I was thinking. His eyes flashed, reminding me that acting now would be unwise and reckless.

Dr Wright must have noticed the disgust and fury with which Remus and I were glaring at him, for he added defensively, “I’m not proud of it; these were certainly my lowest moments save when I… well I’ll get to that later. Anyhow, the villagers heard Mary’s sobs and started the rumour that there were ghosts living in the old shack. I encouraged the rumours, or at least I didn’t discourage them.

“Then, all of a sudden, my little Mary was announcing that she was engaged, that she was to be taken away from me; my last living link to my wife. You must understand my position gentlemen.” Dr Wright’s eyes were wide; he looked like he was pleading with Remus and me to put ourselves in his position. “On Wednesday night, I left the house at 6:30 that evening, telling everyone that I was staying the night at a hotel as I had an early conference meeting the next morning. I wasn’t lying but I wasn’t telling the full truth either. I intended to go to Charles’ house and confront him, to tell him to call off the marriage and threaten him with everything within my power. I went to Mary’s room to bid her farewell and left for Charles’. I knocked on the door but there was no reply. The door was left unlocked so I entered. I called for the man but without success. Then I saw a letter lying on the table.

“‘Dearest Charles,’ it read, ‘Father is leaving town tonight for a conference. Perhaps you would like to stay at our house for the night? All my love, Mary.’ I was infuriated. I rushed back to the house but rather than entering through the door, I climbed into Mary’s room through the window and found Charles sitting at her desk, a mischievous smile dancing on his smug face. Anger surged through me and, without thinking, I grabbed the knife I had brought with me, for caution’s sake, and stabbed him in the heart. He gave a strangled sort of scream; it was not loud enough to wake the servants but it was loud enough to cause Mary considerable alarm.

‘Charles?’ she called from the hall. ‘Is everything alright?’ And that was when my world fell apart. Mary entered the room and I stood up so violently that I pulled the knife right out. So many emotions flooded me at once and it was too much for me to handle. I pulled out my gun and shot her. I stood frozen for what felt like eternities, watching my only child fall dead to the floor from a bullet I had shot. The servant’s yelps of concern from downstairs caused me to snap out of my reverie. When I realized what I had done, I dropped the gun, pocketed the knife and scrambled back out the window. I left for L'Hôtel D'Affaires and spent the night there. The rest of the story, you already know gentlemen.” Remus’ look of disgust had not yet faded off his face. My hands had not yet stopped shaking.

“I have alerted the authorities,” said Remus, “and they are waiting for us outside. You will accompany them back to the station and await your trial in jail. If you do not come peacefully, I will use force.” Dr Wright said nothing else but followed Remus and me outside where he was arrested by the county police.

---------

“I believe I owe you an explanation, Sirius,” says Remus once we were seated once more in the comfort of our armchairs in 221B Baker Street. “And an apology. I shouldn’t have suggested that you accompany me on this specific case. Not when the details of it could… resurface unwanted memories.” I shake my head.

“It’s quite alright,” I say.

“No, it’s not,” says Remus, taking my hand in his own. “I forced you to relive your worst memories without so much as a warning, all for my peace of mind. All because I wanted you by my side. It was horribly selfish of me.”

“I would have insisted on accompanying you anyway,” I say. “I want to be by your side, my love. Now, pray tell me about your thought process. How did you solve the case?” This, perhaps, is what I enjoy most about working on cases with Remus. The moment when the case has been solved, the victims avenged, the villains confronted and punished appropriately, and only Remus and I remain, in the living room of our flat, our limbs tangled together as I watch the excitement and passion that radiates from Remus as he explains to me how his extraordinary mind saw what only he could.

“Firstly,” he begins, and already I can hear the shift in his voice. He loves his work. And he shares it with me. It is one of the things I love most about him. (I do say that quite a lot. Perhaps it is simply because I love everything about him.) “I will admit that I entered the case thinking that Williams was very likely the culprit. I consented to conduct the investigation in the case that my client’s instincts proved to be correct but I was almost entirely convinced that the investigation would be worthless. My suspicion first fell upon Dr Wright when I was interrogating him. I asked him what he thought of the match between his daughter and Charles; he said he was looking forward to their marriage. I found this most abnormal as nearly all fathers feel some sadness when their daughters leave their houses for that of another man especially when their wives have passed on. Why should this man be glad to lose his daughter? My immediate response was that he wasn’t, he was merely pretending to avoid suspicion. This, however, was hardly evidence, it was nothing more than a gut feeling.

“So we went to the town pub and learnt about the shack. I followed this by visiting L'Hôtel D'Affaires and inquiring as to the hour at which Dr Wright checked in. As you may recall, he told us that he had checked in at 7:30, an hour after his departure. But at L'Hôtel D'Affaires I was informed that Dr Wright only checked in at 10:30 on Wednesday night. By this point, my theory was formed and I was certain of its accuracy but I still needed proof. Therefore, the following morning I went to the scene of the crime and, after some rummaging about, found Mary Wright’s diary which included Charles’ reply to her letter that invited him over on that fateful night. The diary told me everything I needed to know. Then you and I went to confront Dr Wright, he was rightfully arrested and here we are now.” Remus concludes his explanation with a grim smile.

“Wonderful!” I say, applauding him for his achievement. Remus shrugs but I can see that he is attempting to hide a smile. If I could only shower him with compliments for the rest of my days to see his beautiful smile, I would do so. “You know, detective, one might find it very attractive when you make all these deductions,” I add.

“Oh?” he says, eyebrows raised. “And would this ‘one’ be you, by any chance?”

“Is that another deduction?” I tease.

“That wasn’t something I needed to deduce, love, it’s written all over your gorgeous face,” he says. Then I kiss him slowly, bringing my hand into his hair when I feel his on my waist.

“I do love you, you know,” he says, his lips still lingering on mine, refusing to pull away. “I don’t say it as often as I should but I do. The world can continue to hate it but I will never cease to love you, Sirius.”

“I know,” I reply, allowing my hand to fall and gently brush his cheek. “I love you too.” Remus blushes and I can see the man I fell in love with. Where the rest of the world sees only his brilliant mind and his icy exterior, I see beyond. I see the goodness in his heart, the emotion in his voice, the passion in his eyes, softness of his lips. I see it all and more. He shows it to me and only to me. He lets me have him. And I give him all there is of me in return. It is of this that I think when I lean in to kiss Remus again. And it is of this that I think when he kisses me back.

#remus lupin #remus lupin fluff #sirius black #sirius black fluff #moony #padfoot #wolfstar #WOLFSTAR FLUFF #wolfstar fanfic #Wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar oneshot #remus x sirius #sirius x remus #Marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders oneshot #sherlock holmes #switching fandoms

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innocent-chris-evans-slut · 4 years

Text

Nowhere without You

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

soft/sad!Ransom x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Type: fluff, smut

Summary: Ransom runs into one of his one-night stands at work. She doesn’t remember him, only that she had great sex with him, and then tells him that probably none of the girls he had been with remembers his name. He wasn’t important to them. When he comes back home, you get something had happened.

Warning(s): small smut

Author’s Note: if you like this, there’s a bonus scene waiting for you. Do you want it?

“Do you really have to go?” you asked your boyfriend as he looked at himself in the wall-long mirror. You acknowledged his focus changing and a moment later he was in front of the bed, fixing his side as he looked at you. “I can keep you warm”, you said in a lustful tone.

“You’re such a whore”, he came closer and placed his palms at both sides of your face, completely turned to him, “My whore”, he left a soft kiss on your forehead and went down, until his lips met with yours, “And I love you”.

You knew that morning’s meeting was very important for Ransom and his career. If there was only a chance to bring to life his books, he had to take it.

After Harlan’s threat to keep him out from his will, Ransom was destroyed. He couldn’t find anything to fulfill his desire to prove to his grandfather and his family that he was better than them. Then he met you and you brought something he would never expect to feel in his life: love.

With you, by his side, he felt so powerful that with the money left from Harlan’s last deposit on Ransom’s account, your now-boyfriend decided to start his own publishing company. And that was the job he was waiting for for a lifetime.

You certainly helped him running it, giving some advice when needed, but he did most of the job. “Kick they asses, babe”, you turned around to give him a kiss, which he totally took.

“Will be done”, he covered your necked chest and said: “Keep that pussy warm and wet for me. I have a plan for when I’ll be back” he smirked and then got back erected, “I love you, sweetheart”.

“I love you too, babe!” you shouted as you heard his steps becoming more and more distant from you.

You grabbed his pillow, which still had his scent on, and hugged him while closing your eyes again and falling asleep.

Once the morning meeting had ended, Ransom was the first one to leave the conference room –as usual-, though he had to shake somebody’s hand before actually getting out of it. He leaned against the doorframe as he sent a message to you:

Heading home with a win, sweetheart. And I hope you’ve done what I had asked for 😏

He had to contain himself when he opened your message and saw nothing but an image of you with your fingers in your mouth. Then another image popped up, and it was way more alluding that the other one. It portrayed you on your bed, bare-chest and your hand wandering on your flat belly.

When Ransom was about to reply to your message, he literally ran into someone, and now that someone was swearing at him, really much. He looked up at the person he had hit and gasped when he recognized her as one of his past one-night girls.

“Madison, is that you?”

The woman raised her eyes from the papers spread on the floor and furrowed her eyes at him. If he was someone, she had spent a night with, she didn’t remember at first; then she focused on him and a flash came into her mind when she glanced at his hands.

Those hands.

Madison clearly remembered those hands and those fingers…they had done only good things on his body, though she couldn’t remember his name, “Huh…hi, how are you…?” she smiled at him and stretched out her hands to shake Ransom.

There was something strange in her attitude as if she was struggling to remember his name, so he did it for her, “Ransom”, he said and shook her hand, “I’m fine. How are you doing?”

Until a couple of years ago he would have never imagined greeting and talking to one of his one-night stands; that was one of the many things you had taught him during your relationship. Being gentler with people.

The girl giggled and brought his hand to cover her laugh, “I’m sorry-“ she started, trying to catch her breath, “That’s just so…funny. You greet me and I don’t even remember your name”, she left Ransom speechless, he didn’t know what to say or what to do because he didn’t understand what was going on, “Oh, don’t put on that puppy face. You’re none special. Actually, you should be happy that actually none of your girls remembers you”, she kept laughing, as if the situation was slightly funny from her point of view.

Ransom, on the other hand, was a mix of angry and embarrassment. Little did he know that Madison hadn’t ended yet.

“I’ve heard that this place is yours. Congrats then”, she gave him a challenging look as she crossed her arms over her chest, “Tell me, are you up for a drink tonight?” Madison approached Ransom as she had always done: a hand slowly making its way to his bicep and then to his shoulder, stopping on his cheek, “C’mon, I know you feel it too”.

“I’m sorry, Madison”, the built man took her hand into his and firmly, yet gently, pushed her away, “I don’t do these things anymore”.

“What?!” she was more than surprised when hearing it, mainly because she could have never imagined Ransom Drysdale would have refused her, “Are you gay?”

“Wh- No, I’m not. I have a girlfriend.”

The girl in front of him started laughing uncontrollably again, this time she let everybody on the same level as her ear her thunderous laughs, “Ransom Drysdale…has a…girlfriend”, she managed to say in-between giggles, “Please, tell me that you’re not serious”, it was enough a gaze to understand that he was way more than serious, “Oh, God. Somebody tells that woman to get away while she can”, her laughing had calmed down and she kept talking, “Ransom, you will never be enough for anybody. That girl, whoever she is, will walk away as soon as she will see who you truly are. Don’t forget it, Ransom, you’re not cut out for settling down, because you need to change”.

Having said that, she walked away as she saw her boss calling for her. Madison left Ransom with a billion thoughts in his mind. Thoughts that would never leave him.

When you saw Ransom pulling over in your walkway, you could easily say that there was something wrong with him. His anger came out by the way he’d slammed the door of his beloved BMW and the way he walked towards the front door of your house.

You were in the living room, sat on the couch, and currently cuddling Ollie, your dog.

It took you months, and an endless list of indecent promises to Ransom, to finally convince him to adopt a dog. Though he didn’t want to show it, he was thrilled at the idea of having someone to take with him on his morning runs and, occasionally, to wander for hours in the huge backyard of your house, while you were at work, or cooking dinner.

You gave Ollie his favorite stuffed animal and ran to the front door, right when Ransom entered the house. “What happened?” you asked worriedly. You were about to caress his cheek with your hand when he grabbed you by your wrist and pushed you away.

He tossed his coat on the first armchair he’d found and walked upstairs, slamming the door of your bedroom behind his back. On the couch, Ollie jumped and hid behind your legs as he heard the violent noise.

“Bubba, stay here. I’ll check on daddy”, you petted him where you knew he liked it and brought his toy back to him; then you made your way to your bedroom. You quietly opened the door and saw your boyfriend drinking whiskey, directly from the bottle, “Ransom, babe, what happened?” you sat down between his legs and took the glass-made bottle from his hands, closing it and placing it back to where it belonged. Then you slowly stretched your hand out to brush your fingers on his cheek, “Talk to me”.

Ransom closed his eyes as soon as he felt your fingers gently caressing his cheek.

You’re not cut for settling down.

Madison’s words echoed in his head while he wrapped his arms around your hips and made you sit on his lap. In that position, his favorite position, he hid his face in the crook of your neck and breathed in your scent -as if he wanted to remember it forever.

Then he got up and held his firm grip on your hips, drawing you on the bed with him. He positioned himself on the top of you and crushed his lips on yours.

There wasn’t time for words, all that Ransom did was touching you, gently rubbing his hands on your body. He took off your shirt and shorts and tossed them to the side of the room -soon followed by his own. In a matter of seconds, both of you were wearing only your underwear.

Ransom put all his weight on his knees and stayed straight, staring down at you, “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen”, he went down, kissing the invisible line at the center of your chest up to your navel, “I’ll never have enough of you”. His fingers interlaced with yours over your head, and tightened when Ransom went kissing your collarbone, “I love you, sweetheart”.

You two had sex like never before; you skipped the foreplays, going straight to the point in which Ransom was thrusting into you extremely slowly, yet deeply, just to the point that you could feel him hitting your cervix and sending shivers down to your spine. You tried to open your mouth, asking him what the matter was, but he was quicker than you and kissed you before you could throw him away. Then he went down, leaving a trail of wet kisses on your jaw, neck, and collarbone. Eventually, he stopped and grabbed in his mouth your left nipple; you felt his cold teeth coming in contact with your hot skin, causing the growing knot in your stomach to become bigger and bigger. His other hand went taking care of your right tit, his fingers gently played with your sensitive nipple. You gasped in search of air and squeezed his hand when you reached your climax, you arched your back and his marble-like chest came in contact with your torso.

Ransom thrust inside you another couple of times before you could feel a warm flow covering your inner walls. He bent over you and brought your arms wrapping his shoulders, again he hid his face in the crook of your neck and lifted you just enough to slip his arms around your waist. When his body hovered yours, your heavy breaths calmed down immediately, as if one recognized the other.

You definitely melted when Ransom whispered to your ear how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to have you, and how perfect for him you were.

“I love you-“

As you heard his voice cracking, you gently took his head between your hands and forced him to make eye contact with you. “What happened?” you saw his eyes becoming watery the more he looked at you, yet your boyfriend couldn’t avoid your gaze.

“You’ll leave me”, he saw the questioning look you sent him and explained himself better: “Everyone did it in the past and will do in the future. As much as I love you, I can’t keep you from your life and I promise, I’ll let you go when you will do it. You are the only person that I love more than my life and, fuck, I can’t even imagine a life without you”, a tear ran down his cheek and you instantly swiped it away with your thumb.

You were hardly trying to hold back your tears, yet you could feel the corners of your eyes slowly releasing them, and your throat was sore, “Then don’t do it. I’m here and I’m not planning on going anywhere without you. Once I promised you, I’ll be by your side, and there’s where you’ll find me. Always. Do never think I’ll leave you”, you kissed him, sealing the promise -once more- you’d made him. “I love you, Hugh Ransom Drysdale”.

“I love you, too”, he pulled himself out of you and kissed you once more, before disappearing into the bathroom. He came out less than a minute after, a towel in his left hand and a comb in the other one, “Time to clean you up”, he gently brought the warm towel to your core and cleaned the overspill of juices on your thighs. After, he left a kiss on both of them and put on your panties. Then he sat, his back against the headboard, and made a room for you to sit between his legs.

You felt his thick fingers extricate the several knots in your hair, subsequently, he brushed and braided it, “Will you ever tell me how you can make a perfect braid?” you turned on your left side, facing him, after switching off the lamp on your bedside table.

Ransom did the same and accepted your invitation to put his head on your chest, between your breasts, “Maybe one day”, he closed his eyes and, as if he was a child, he fell asleep by listening to your heart pace. He mumbled an ‘I love you’ and then his legs interlaced with yours.

You felt his grasp tightening around you and you smiled, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead and closed your eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Author’s Note: if you like this, there’s a bonus scene waiting for you. Do you want it?

Tag List:

@thummbelina

@stargazingfangirl18

@rororo06

#ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey smut #ransom x y/n #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombrey #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #fluff chris evans #soft ransom #sad ransom

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akookminsupporter · 3 years

Note

Hello 💜

I wanna share what happened with me a few days ago. So I saw this post, smth like bias wrecked by Jungkook? And there were a lot of pictures of him. The comments were pretty nice, everybody was supportive and stuff. The pictures were amazing, I loved them too. I wrote there with a lot of smilies and purple hearts, that thank god Jk is my bias or it would've been so hard for me. After almost 30 minutes, I got a notification that somebody replied to me. I didn't look at it right away as my online class was going on. And by the next day there were so many comments. Most of them saying that they were OT7 biased, and some saying that its wrong to have a bias if an you actually love the members the same, and that a real Army won't have a bias 'cuz it's disrespectful to the other members.

But I do love them all, its not like I care only and only about Jungkook, its about BTS. And I'm pretty sure many Armys will agree with me that BTS is not just Jungkook or Jimin or J-Hope or Jin or Suga or V or Rm alone, it's about all seven of them together.

And when those people started attacking me by saying that I'm not being a real Army by having a bias, I felt very weird. I mean, if it weren't for Jungkook I don't think I would ever become an Army in the first place. I heard his cover song for the first time and he caught my eye in the BST MV which was my first ever BTS song (although I was late after the BST era), and from there I came to know more about BTS.

I'm not saying that I've had a lot of stuff and struggles in my short life till now, but still everytime I was sad BTS always helped me through it. And when people said that I don't love them all, it really made me feel bad.

Sorry about the rant, I just wanted to get this out somewhere... your blog happened to be that place.

Hi anon, how are you? I would like to ask you a question and I hope you don't mind, how old are you?

Anon everyone or practically everyone in this fandom has a bias. The first time I tweeted on my personal twitter account that I really liked BTS the first thing someone asked me was: Who is your bias? The original tweet confirms that everyone has a bias, because if the tweet was about jungkook being someone's bias wrecker, it means that person has a bias too which makes the whole thing even more hypocritical and honestly stupid. Being attacked for your comment I mean. Don't ever feel bad about that and I'm sorry you had to go through such an unpleasant experience.

Thank you for trusting my blog to share your experience, I hope you are having a wonderful day. 💜💜

#anon #ask #bias #JK #shitty people

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ill-go-with-that-then · 5 years

Text

A NEW ERASERMIC AU I'LL NEVER WRITE!

Imagine Aizawa works at Buzzfeed, and gets the idea to write an article about how Twitch streaming is stupid and pointless (because he’s a video game snob.) He chooses Present Mic’s channel to watch at random, because he’s super popular, but Aizawa immediately goes from undercover reporter to absolute fan. No middle ground. Just “huh, okay i was wrong” and subscribes.

He tunes in to all the live streams, because Mic is very funny and also very good at video games, and it’s cool to watch him play. He has skills, his commentary is A+, and Aizawa develops a little crush. But it’s not a big deal!! Mic is a celeb, Aizawa knows they’ll never meet, it’s harmless.

Sometimes the chat for the stream gets assholes in it, as you’d expect. Mic can’t monitor the chat too much, but Aizawa has no problems telling jerks where to stick it. And once, after a particularly egregious incident where some moron said something crude about women in gaming and Aizawa ripped him a new asshole, Mic sends him a personal message thanking him and asking him if he wants to be a mod, which of course, he does. He doesn’t know how to reply - this is his big chance to talk to Mic!! So of course he just says “sure” - no further conversation.

Aizawa has, of course, zero personal details on his Twitch account. No info, no icon, his screen name is a random string of numbers, he’s a ghost. The Ron Swanson of video game enthusiasts.

So Aizawa is working at Buzzfeed, living his best life writing articles like “10 Video Game Themed Products You Can’t Live Without” because journalism is in shambles and he drinks to forget, and one day his editor is like “hey, we’re gonna do a feature on Twitch streamers. Everybody is gonna go sit and watch a stream in person and get the behind the scenes info. Here’s a list of people who agreed.” And PRESENT MIC IS ON THE LIST

One of his colleagues reaches for Mic’s info sheet, rolling his eyes and sighing. “I can’t believe these are considered celebrities. Have you ever heard of any of them?”

Aizawa practically slaps the paper out of his hand. “Present Mic is a consummate professional and his content is high-quality and entertaining. I wouldn’t expect you to understand it since it involves technology more current than a compact disc.”

The room goes silent. Nobody’s heard Aizawa say anything nice about... maybe anything? Ever? But his editor, Kayama, pounces immediately. “WELL if you like him so much, Aizawa, that can be your interview!!”

Aizawa panics. On the one hand, he wasn’t going to let anyone else take that assignment. But on the other hand, now he’s going to meet Mic IN PERSON. During a LIVE STREAM. Is he supposed to tell him he’s a fan? Is that tacky? Will his crush be obvious? What if Mic sucks in person?? This is a double edged sword.

He only gets more nervous on the day of the interview. He’s tempted to dress up a little, look his best. Mic is a good-looking guy after all, and he’s always well put together when he streams. And even though Aizawa knows, knows he really doesn’t have a chance, he still doesn’t want to embarrass himself.

BUT he also doesn’t want to look like he’s trying too hard. That’s not who he is, and dressing up would be admitting to himself that he DOES want something more than a simple interview, even if it’s as little as Mic’s good opinion or positive attention.

He debates too long. While he’s still thinking about it, the alarm on his phone goes off, alerting him that it’s time to leave. He’s still in his pink sweatpants and he hasn’t shaved, and he realizes, just at that moment, that he probably should have tried harder at least for the sake of professionalism. But it’s too late. He has to go.

Mic actually doesn’t live all that far away. Just a short train ride, less than 20 minutes, and Aizawa is standing in front of his nondescript apartment. It’s a little odd - Mic is a very popular streamer, theoretically with income to match, and his style seems flashy. Aizawa had expected something a little more over the top. But this place is simple. Storing that information away for later, he knocks.

“COMING!!” He hears from inside the apartment, followed by the thud of footsteps. Aizawa just has one moment to brace himself because this is it before the door opens and there he is. Present Mic himself, all smiles. “Come in, come in!! You’re from buzzfeed right? Wow, this is so exciting!!” Mic ushers him in the door, taking his jacket and hustling him into a tidy living room before Aizawa can even respond. And of course, when he finally gets himself together enough to say something, the first words out of his mouth are “You’re... tall.”

He wants to smack himself. Yes, Mic is taller than Aizawa had realized from the stream, even a little taller than Aizawa himself. But those are thinking words, not speaking words. Certainly not the first words you use to introduce yourself to your celebrity crush. But Aizawa, a champion moment-ruiner, has made his bed, and now he must cry in it.

But Mic just laughs. “Yeah,” he says, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “I get that a lot. Sorry?”

“Don’t apologize,” Aizawa says immediately, then wonders if he is, in fact, under some sort of curse. “Shouta Aizawa,” he introduces himself.

“Hizashi Yamada, also known as Present Mic!” Yamada’s smile is friendly, like Aizawa hasn’t made an absolute fool of himself so far, and Aizawa has to look away from it. He glances around the room, which is tidy and clean, but cluttered with various objects that seem to have no connection to each other. There are books in a variety of languages, musical instruments, shelves of CDs, and an assortment of other things that have nothing to do with video games.

“Quite a collection you have,” Aizawa says, because it is, and because he’s curious.

“Yeah! I have too many hobbies but what can you do? Come on, I’m sure you’d rather see my workspace.” It’s not true, Aizawa has seen the office where Yamada streams before, and he’d much rather stay here and poke around, build up his mental picture about who Yamada is outside his Present Mic persona. But he’s not here for that. This is business.

But the streaming room is also not what Aizawa expects. Some things are familiar - the area visible to the camera is the same, set up and ready for tonight’s stream, but the rest of the room, the part that isn’t on screen, is PACKED. There’s a wobbly desk in the corner, covered in neatly stacked papers and binders labeled by month and year. The wall over the desk is a massive whiteboard filled with notes and ideas for upcoming streams. And there, in the lower right corner of the whiteboard, right where it would be even with Hizashi’s eyes as he sits at his desk, is a familiar string of numbers - his own Twitch username. And next to it is a little note - don’t forget. Good dude.

Aizawa sees his username and just - freezes. It hadn’t occurred to him that Mic thought of him at all outside of that one occasion he DM’d him, let alone that he considered Aizawa important enough not to forget. And the idea that Mic thinks he’s a “good dude” makes his face BURN in pleased embarrassment. He wants to say something but what? Is it weird? It’s weird, it’s too weird, and before he can think of how to do it, Mic is talking again.

“Okay, this is where the magic happens!! Actually, it’s more like weeks of frustration and repetition followed by 3-4 hours of intensely stressful streaming, but hey! People seem to like it!!” Aizawa wants to say something here - Mic is being a little too self-deprecating for his taste, but he stops himself. He can’t defend Mic’s honor to Mic himself - can he? The moment passes while he debates.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d want to be on camera or not?” Mic says, tentatively.

“I’d rather not, if it’s all the same to you,” says Aizawa. “I’m more the behind the scenes type.”

“Totally, no problem!” Mic says, gesturing to his desk. “You can sit there, if that’s okay? The only other seat is by me.”

Aizawa looks at the chair, then back to the small couch where Mic will be streaming from. “I think I’ll have to be closer to get photos for the article, if that’s all right.”

“You’ll be on camera,” Mic bites his lip. “I mean, maybe i could re-angle it, but then the screen-“

“It’s fine,” Aizawa says. “Journalism is about hardship.”

Mic snorts, and Aizawa can’t keep a little smirk off his face, proud that he got a laugh.

The stream goes smoothly - Aizawa likes it even more like this, without the chat to distract him, and close enough to notice things he’s never seen before. Mic’s feet twitch when he’s focusing hard, and his socks have cats on them. It’s adorable. Aizawa takes no notes - he doesn’t really need to, he’s seen enough streams to write this article in his sleep, and anyway, it’s not like he’s going to forget a minute of this.

Afterwards, once they’ve signed off, Mic talks him through his post show routine, everything from calculating how much he made and comparing it to previous weeks in a spreadsheet to going over the chat. “Huh,” Mic’s eyebrows crease as he looks at the chat logs. “Things got a little out of hand tonight.”

“Oh?” Aizawa says, shuffling uncomfortably. He suspects he knows why that is.

“Yeah, one of my regular mods wasn’t on tonight. I hope he’s all right - it’s not like him to miss.”

“You have a lot of viewers,” Aizawa says, tentative now. “Do you know them all so well?”

Mic shrugs, embarrassed. “No, i wish I did! But this guy’s special, he’s really funny and he keeps all the trolls in line. I’d DM him to see if he’s okay but that’s weird, right? That’s weird. And anyway I tried to talk to him once before but he shot me down.”

“I didn’t-“ Aizawa says before he can stop himself. The curse is real. Mic stares at him, open mouthed, confused at first but then his eyes widen as he realizes what must have happened. Before he can say anything, Aizawa cuts him off. “Sorry. That i couldn’t mod tonight.” He mumbles, hand buried in his hair. He can’t meet Mic’s eyes anymore. “I’ll be back next week.”

Mic opens his mouth to speak, but Aizawa interrupts again, before he can. “And I didn’t - I didn’t shoot you down. I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me. Why would you?”

Mic blinks, and Aizawa isn’t sure what he’s going to say. Will he be mad? Aizawa kind of lied to him. Is he disappointed? Does Aizawa not look like he expected? Has he been too silent? Too unfriendly? Does Mic not want to get to know him anymore? But when Mic finally speaks, what comes out is

“I can’t believe you made me memorize that stupid fucking username, we’re picking you a new one right now.”

#erasermic #maizawa #my writing #my ramblings #I have no explanation for anything I do ever

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euphoniumpets · 4 years

Text

The red princess | The weeping monk x reader

Summary: The castle. Their skilled warrior. The king who once fell in love with a woman that only turned into a tragic love story. His curiousity won over him and ran way with the woman who he loved. But maybe the history was repeating all over again and maybe Father carden was right about her?

Authors Note: here it is, the fanfic all of you guys have been waiting for. Also, I’m so happy to see that this small family is growing bigger and bigger and want to thank you guys for all the support and love you guys have given me. Also, consider this fanfic is like an AU? the red paladins is royalty and so on, and yes, I did with the only one bed cliqué. sue me lol (don’t do it). Also, this will be a miniseries with three parts in it. I was thinking of just doing two parts buuut, nope, ain’t doing that. ALSO I DID A ROYAL AU STORY ON MY ACCOUNT ON WATTPAD!! go check it out once i announce that i’m done with the layouts.

As usual the tag list for the ppl i love that i want to see their reaction: @purerepelsdirt @parabatai-winchester

Warnings: ehh, violence? men ogling at reader, lancelot is being a softie and father carden is being an asshole, this will contain smut in part two.

The red princess.

Was not an uncommon name that whispered around the fey folk and the people who lived around her. Everybody knew who she was. How powerful but yet innocent how she acted. Innocent but she can kill a human being with an blink of an eye.

That was her story behind the gates of the red paladin camp but her story is different on her perspective. Before she was the red princess, she was just an ordinary girl, the daughter of Father Carden, the leader of the red paladins.

Before she became a princess, her father met a lovely lady named Ravenna. Her beauty mesmerized the others and even her own father who fell in love with her. Their love was unique but it quickly dissappeared because he saw the behind of her figure. Who she really was before she died and gave birth.

That’s why y/n were locked up in the castle in the first place. After the birth of y/n, her father knew that she would be exactly just like her mother. A liar, an abomination. but maybe y/n were more than just an liar and an abomination.

That was lancelot’s thoughts when he first saw the red princess. Father carden had given him an assignment inside the castle and he crossed a hallway where he haven’t been there before. It was almost odd because he used to roam in every single hallway in the big castle and he didn’t stumble on the strange door.

The door to the room intrugied him. He wanted to know what lies behind the door but he knew that he couldn’t cross it. Because he knew that he would get caught and being punished what he had just done.

After walking past by the door several times, he gave up. He would consider that he was weak. That he couldn’t beat the curiousity that streamed through his veins. Finally, he gripped the handle and opened the door.

The room was similair to the rest of the rooms that existed inside the castle. ‘’Who the hell are you?’’ Snapping his gaze from the bed, he met the eyes of e/c. Her wavy long hair to her waist and her white dress that covered her perfectly figure. She looked like an angel that had fallen down from the heaven, lancelot thought.

Before Lancelot could say anything because he was star struck by her beauty, she let out a huff. ‘’You don’t have to answer, I know who you are,’’ she responded with wide eyes. Lancelot wanted to smirk at the satisfaction but held a unfazed expression. ‘’You do?’’ His deep voice filled her eyes as he watched her smirk from the window.

‘‘I’ve been watching you ever since,’‘ She replied as the two of them kept staring at each other. ‘‘And do I get to know who you are?’‘ He questioned after a long silence. He watched her smirk. ‘‘You wouldn’t belive me if I told you,’‘ He raised his eyebrow as an challenge. ‘‘Try me,’‘ And that was how he met the daughter of the red paladin.

It has been several days since Lancelot had visisted you from the chamber. He didn’t know why he did it. He thought he was stronger to keep his curiousity behind him. And he was afraid that father Carden would notice that he had been visiting his daughter.

But that didn’t stop him. He kept coming into your chamber every now and then at night and at day when your father was not in the castle. Y/n would lie to herself that she began to feel something for the mystery boy.

However, it has been years since she stepped outside of her room. The longing of going out and feel the sun and the air around her. The awful pit in her stomach when she would get when she would see her father.

Y/n didn’t know that her father killed her mother. Because just one secret that she had from him. She didn’t know why she was locked in a room and all her father would say that it was for her own protection.

Her days used to be surrounded by darkness but ever since Lancelot had stepped inside her room, it has been filled with light and butterflies. She didn’t know if he felt the same about her.

But Lancelot did feel something that he hasn’t felt for ages. Love. When he opened the door into her chambers again, he noticed that something was wrong with y/n. It was nighttime and her father had just visited her in the day time.

He didn’t visit her often because of his duties and that he wanted to ignore that he had a daughter born with abominaiton. But this time, it surprised y/n that he wanted to visit her. It wasn’t because of her but because of them.

He had noticed that one of his best warrior had acted strange. So, he ordered someone from the castle follow Lancelot behind and he discovered that he was with his daughter. He had threatened her by that he would kill her if she was with him again. And not by only that, he would have to kill lancelot too.

‘‘Hey,’‘ He replied softly as he took off his hood and placed it on the wooden chair. He watched y/n stare off in her thoughts by the window with a concerned expression. ‘‘What is it?’‘ He questioned her as he placed his hands onto her shoulders as he turned her around.

He watched her close her eyes before she looked deep into his eyes. ‘’He knows,’’ She replied in a hushed voice. ‘’He knows about us, and he won’t stop if we will continue to keep seeing each other,’’ She replied with fear in her voice.

‘‘y/n, I will do anything to protect you and me-’‘

‘‘No, he will kill us both,’‘ She cut him off with tears in her eyes.

‘‘We, we can’t see each other, I’m sorry,’‘ She whispered. For the first time in his life, Lancelot felt the heart break in his heart.

The next day Lancelot was in a hurry. He had planned to escape the castle and take y/n with him away from her father. As he packed his belongings, he heard the door to his chambers made a knocking sound. He felt his heart beat faster and he froze in his tracks.

With a fast movements, he tried to cover the belongings. ‘’Who is it?’’ He questioned out loud. ‘’It’s father carden, my son,’’ He gulped. He tried to not show any fear against the man who had took him into the castle and treated him like a son.

He gripped the handle as he put an unfazed expression. He watched the figure of father carden as he greeted him and stepped aside os he could enter his room. ‘’I see that you’re going somewhere?’’ He heard him speak behind him as he frowned. He turned around as he closed the door behind him as he spotted the messly cover up on his bed.

‘‘Yes,’‘ He replied with his deep voice. Father Carden turned around. ‘‘I know about the little affairs you have with my daughter,’‘ He told him as he stepped closer towards Lancelot. ‘‘I warn you boy, you do not want to be with her,’‘ He warned him. ‘‘Why is that? So you can lock her up and leave her to rot?’‘ He sneered.

He scoffed. ‘’I’m locking her up for protection from the horrible world we live in,’’ He explained, Lancelot clenched his fists in anger. ‘’You’re leaving her to rot,’’ He growled. Father Carden snickered slightly towards him as he shook his head.

‘‘Listen to me, Lancelot, she’s brainwashing you, look at you! you’ve turned soft for her,’‘ Father carden sneered. ‘‘This is not what I have trained you to be,’‘

‘‘You can’t stop us, we’re leaving tonight,’‘ He told him as Father Carden scoffed. ‘‘I don’t think so, the only thing y/n will be recieving tonight is your dead body,’‘ Father Carden said as the guards stormed into his chambers.

Y/n tried to pack her belongings as fasts as she could. Ever since the threat she had gotten from her father and the plan that Lancelot had told her about few days ago, she agreed to escape the castle with him.

The door banged open as she immedietly took the sword that Lancelot had given her. She relaxed when she saw Lancelot storm inside her room and took the bag. That was not the only thing she noticed from the stress behaviour from him, but she saw the blood at his face.

With wide eyes, she rushed towards him in concern. ‘’Lance, what happen-’’ she gasped as she felt when he took her by the wrist. ‘’We don’t have time, y/n, come on!’’ He urged her as the two of them ran out of the castle.

Y/n didn’t know how long they have been riding. It seemed that it was midnight and that they neared a village far away from the castle. The horse stopped as y/n watched Lancelot hop off the horse before he helped her too. She landed on the ground with a thump.

‘‘You’re alright?’‘ Lancelot asked her quietly. She smiled tiredly towards him as the blood had almost dried from his face. She wiped some of the blood gently. ‘‘Exhausted, but I will be fine,’‘ She answered as he nodded.

He took off the bag from the horse and all the belongings before he tied the rope against a branch. Turning her gaze, it seemed that they were at a hostel and a pub.

‘‘Stay close,’‘ She heard him whisper in her ears when she noticed some men were oglig at her. She nodded with fear written on her face as she walked closer to him. Y/n was filled with curiousity since she had never been outside from her room since long she could remember.

Suddenly, a woman stopped in front of them. ‘’It seems that you two have been wandering for a long time,’’ The woman replied with a smirk on her face. ‘’We’re looking for a room to stay for the night,’’ He responded as the woman walked closer to him.

Y/n looked at her with a weird look before the woman’s eyes trilled down on her. With a decieving look on her face, she trailed her fingers slightly on y/n’s face. Lancelot gripped his sword tighter. ‘’So, beautiful...’’ The woman whispered before she looked towards Lancelot.

‘‘Fine, ‘‘ The woman replied. ‘‘But it has a price,’‘ She replied as she glanced towards you as you looked at her with a fearful look. ‘‘No, she belongs to me,’‘ He growled. ‘‘How about I give you money?’‘ The woman looked at him with interest.

‘‘How much?’‘

‘‘I have 1000 silvers,’‘ Lancelot replied.

‘‘Give me 400 silvers, just because you have a beautiful woman next by your side,’‘ Lancelot gave the money to the woman as she led the two of you through the hostel. She opened the door as she gave you a smirk before she left the room as you looked at her with a confused look.

Turning your gaze towards the room, it was decent. Only problem though it was that only one bed and y/n knew that this night was going to be an interesting night.

#the weeping monk x reader #the weeping monk #royalty au #cursed #father carden #nimue #squirrell #percival #smut

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ecto-american · 4 years

Text

If Found Please Return to Danny Phantom

Phic Phight Oneshot for @imperfection-at-itsfinest: When Jack manages to get his hands on Danny Phantom's ghost hunting logbook, an investigation reveals some information about ghosts and the infamous specter himself that a scientific study would never cover.

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It would be wrong of him to read it.

Jack kept staring at the book in his hands. It resembled a diary, the front design being colorless but a pressed design. The moon with stars, with no words, and the diary itself felt unusually thin. There was no lock, as if it was almost inviting him to just read it. Jack had, in fact, already opened to the first page, and the first words greeted him. In a standard font read: If Found, Please Return to: and the name scrawled, in surprisingly tidy handwriting, was the name Danny Phantom.

What an absolute find. It was pure dumb luck. He had seen Phantom drop it, but Jack had went looking for it in hopes that the ghost teen had dropped one of the stolen Fenton gadgets. Only to recover...this book that he had taken home and into the privacy of his lab for study.

The idea of Phantom keeping a diary was kinda funny. He never struck Jack as the type to write down his deepest darkest secrets or teenage embarrassments in a book. That would imply that the ghost had some kind of emotions. They didn’t. They were blobs of ectoplasmic energy.

So it should be okay for him to read, right? Why was he so hesitant? Well...it was an invasion of privacy. But it was fine. Phantom dropped it in the park. Phantom was a menace to society. There was likely evidence in this journal that could explain all of the ghost boy’s terrible deeds, that could prove that he truly was evil. This diary could change everything.

...Jack had children though, and he knew both were avidly creative. Scrapbooking, drawing, painting, writing. They were stress outlets for his girls, and he wouldn’t ever dare dream of invading their privacy like that. So he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Phantom deserved privacy, right?

“Jack? Are you coming to dinner?” Maddie’s voice snapped him from his thought process. She hadn’t made a noise as she came down the stairs. But Maddie was a much better stealth hunter than him.

“Yes, yes! Sorry, I was distracted,” Jack apologized. He set the book down on the table. Maddie rose an eyebrow at him.

“Did you get a new ectobiology book?” she asked. His eyes glanced to the book, and he shook his head no. Maddie came over to him, studying the book cover. Of course, it didn’t resemble any of the scientific texts that they owned.

“I don’t know how to explain it…” Jack said slowly. He held it out to her. Maddie accepted it.

“This looks like it belongs to the kids,” she stated. She opened the first page, and Jack saw her eyes widen. Her breath hitched, and she looked up to him “Jack...where did you...get this?”

“He dropped it during a fight,” he replied. “I thought it was Fenton tech, but…”

Her eyes sparkled, and she shut the book. A wide grin had appeared, and she threw her arms around her husband.

“Oh Jack! This could teach us so much! If this really is a journal or some kind of diary, then he may have recorded motivations! Thoughts! We can really get into how Phantom thinks and a raw, honest, firsthand account from Phantom himself! This changes everything!”

She was right. She was absolutely right, and he hugged her back. They were scientists first and foremost, and this journal could fill in so many missing blanks about ghosts. It was a starting off point. Jack’s mind raced with all the things they could possibly learn. Just from a simple peek of the book. That was worth more than the invasion of privacy of a ghost that caused so much havoc, destruction and pain.

“We should look at it right now!” he exclaimed. Maddie pulled away with a small frown.

“After dinner,” she reminded him. “I finally got everybody corralled upstairs for a family dinner. It’s nearly impossible to get either of the girls at the same time.”

“Oh, right!” Jack nearly slapped his forehead. Yes, they were scientists first and foremost, but before even that, they were Mom and Dad. “First thing after dinner.”

“First thing after dinner,” she agreed with a smile.

Upstairs, he saw that Jazz was already serving herself. Chicken, mashed potatoes and peas. His youngest was pouring iced tea into glasses for everybody.

“Hey Ghost-kateers!” Jack greeted cheerfully with a grin. Both kids groaned in embarrassment. Perfect.

“Daaad!” his youngest complained, a whine hitching as she put the pitcher of ice tea back. “I told you, if I’m going to be some kind of ye olde soldier type, I wanna be a knight, like at the renaissance fair.”

“Ah, but if you’re a ghost-kateer, you can get an anti-ghost musket!” Jack teased. As he walked past her to get his own food, he playfully ruffled her pixie-cut hair. She waved his hand away.

“But as a ghost knight, I can get a cool sword!” she protested. Jack shook his head in fake disappointment.

“Never bring to a ghost sword to a ghost musket fight, baby boo,” her dad replied.

“Can’t shoot what you can’t see!” she shot back with a grin. Jack had to hand it to her, and he just chuckled.

“Can we please have a ghost free dinner?” Jazz scowled.

“Yes, yes, let’s save ghosts for after dinner,” Maddie agreed. Jazz shot her a grateful look, and Jack focused on getting his serving of dinner from the stove. His youngest pushed her sleeves up, exhaling. Jack stole a look at her and frowned. She had some sweat collected on her forehead.

“Honey if you're hot, you can just take your sweatshirt off,” he told her. She shook her head no.

“No, I'm fine,” she insisted. Jack was skeptical.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Mhm!”

Jack shrugged a bit. She was always insisting on wearing a hoodie, no matter the weather. If she got hot enough, she’d take it off. No need to force it. He got his food and took his seat.

“How's school going?” Maddie questioned. Jazz lit up a bit, and her sister flinched. She raised a suspicious eyebrow at her youngest.

“I managed to get a B on my chemistry test,” the youngest spoke up with a forced smile.

“That’s excellent!” Maddie’s demeanor shifted as she smiled warmly. “Keep it up!”

“Yeah!” The youngest seemed to visibly relax. “Sam’s been helping me study.”

“That’s good, I always studied better when V-man or your mom helped me,” Jack nodded at her as he cut up his chicken.

“Oh it’s true, I used to help your father study for all of our shared classes,” Maddie confirmed. “Otherwise he’d get so distracted.”

“Yeah, Sam just explains it super well,” their daughter agreed. “Tucker’s been going over math with me a bit, which helps some.”

“Well if you need a tutor, just let us know, and we’ll help you arrange one,” Maddie smiled. “What about you, Jazz?”

“Pretty good,” she replied. “Mr. Lancer asked if I wanted to be his TA this summer, which I really do. It’ll look good on a college application, and I might even get paid!”

“Have you been narrowing down where you might wanna go?” Jack asked. Jazz eagerly nodded.

“Yeah! Oxford is my number one choice, but I also would love to go to Yale or Stanford. I’ve been talking with the college counselor about what else might look good on an application for them that I can do over the summer. I wrote them down in my planner notebook earlier-”

“Hey, that kinda reminds me,” her sister interrupted. “Have you guys seen one of my notebooks? I think I lost it,” she asked them. Jack stared at her. The reminder of the notebook he actually had found. Maddie seemed unbothered by the question. This wasn’t unusual, for the parents to have to play “where’s my stuff?” with the kids.

“What notebook?” Jazz asked hesitantly.

“My important one,” came the reply. Jazz frowned lightly.

“Sorry, princess, haven’t seen any notebooks laying around,” Jack replied. He saw the briefest of a cringe cross his youngest’s features. “Did you leave it at school?” Her shoulders slumped.

“I don’t think so?” she said hesitantly. “I’ll have to check tomorrow. I was so sure I had it earlier…” Her voice trailed off before she forced a smile. “If you see it, let me know!” She picked up a forkful of chicken, only to freeze. The clattering made Jack glance up curiously as she was turning her attention to Maddie. “Can I be excused? I have some homework to get done.”

Maddie let out a soft sigh. So much for family dinner.

“Of course, just make sure you come back down before you go to bed to get your chores done,” Maddie nodded at her. The young Fenton snapped to her feet with a thanks, fully abandoning her dinner as she went to the stairs. Jazz stared after her sister, craning her neck to track her movements before hurriedly shoveling more mashed potatoes in her mouth.

“Uh, I’m not that hungry, and I totally forgot to do this online assignment,” Jazz spoke, standing up, taking hers and her sister’s plate. She was already walking away before either parent could truly give permission. “I’ll put our plates up and clean up in a bit!”

“A-alright?” Jack hesitated, watching his other child put the plates on the counter before rushing up as well. Another child down. They seemed to grow up so fast.

“Least they’re doing homework,” Maddie sighed lightly, shaking her head before taking a drink of her tea. “Oh well. Might as well take their lead and eat in the lab?”

“Please,” Jack agreed. He stood up, taking his plate. “I’m dying to see what Phantom has to say.”

January 10

Skulker: 1; captured

Ectopuss: 1; captured

Box Ghost: 8; captured

Ember: Fought; got away

Fenton Thermos: half-full

Fenton Fisher: untangled

January 11

Vultures: 1; got away

Cujo: 1; played fetch and he went back to the GZ

Fenton Thermos: Full

Ghost Bazooka: overheated and doesn’t shoot anymore, take apart and fix it

January 12

Skulker: 2; got away

Box Ghost: 3; captured

Sidney: 2; got away

Fenton Fisher: tangled, untangle asap

January 13

Skulker: 1; captured

Box Ghost: 4; got away

Fenton Thermos: damaged, won’t suck up ghosts

I met a new ghost today named Desiree. She got away, but it allowed me to discover a new ghost power. Ghost ray.

Maddie furrowed her brow as she studied the words. She stood at the table, her dinner half-forgotten as she thought on the words.

“It sounds like a record,” Jack mused, and he ate another spoonful of peas. Maddie nodded in agreement.

“I think we found Phantom’s logbook,” she agreed. “I’m assuming these are the ghosts he’s fought. And he seems to be recording his powers too. This is huge, we can match up what we know about his powers and what he’s claiming.”

“And he’s recording the status of our equipment.” Jack frowned. “Why would he care?”

“Yeah, he made note that he was going to fix the Fenton Bazooka too,” Maddie pointed out. The scientist flipped through the pages, only to stop at a page, staring curiously. Maddie laid the journal on the table, pressing the spine so that the pages stayed open. She read the page aloud to Jack.

December 19

I hate my life. I hate this existence. I look in the mirror and wonder why it has to be this way. Why am I the one cursed to be this freak? Why is everything about me and my body wrong? For once, I wish something about me was normal, that somebody about me could be right. If Desiree wasn’t such an unreliable asshole with wishes, I’d give everything I have to wish that life could, for once, allow me to be a normal teenage boy.

Jack listened to her in a stumped silence. This couldn’t have been a pre-death thought process of a moody teenager. It was written too recently, and the words hit a sorrowful chord to him. He didn’t intend to, but he quickly began to feel sorry for Phantom. He was very young. It couldn’t have been easy to lose everything at that age. His daughter was his age. Jack cleared his throat.

“It’s not just a log then?” Jack questioned. Maddie shook her head, flipping the pages back.

“No, I think it’s a mix. There’s still records of ghosts and FentonWorks equipment,” she replied. Using a leg, she pulled a wheeled chair to her to sit in. She leaned back, and she pulled the journal to her. After a moment of flipping through and scanning pages, she settled on a page about a third of the way through. “It seems like this is when he began to record things other than just ghosts.”

“What’s it say?” Jack wondered. Maddie read aloud the next few entries as Jack silently continued to eat.

April 4

I only fought this shitty panther today, and he still got away. I’m such a fucking idiot. I can’t believe he got away. I was too slow. All I do is fuck up. There’s ghostly activity happening around the school, and I just can’t figure it out. I feel like I can’t stop them anymore. I don’t know what’s going on, why I suddenly suck so much. I honestly probably just always sucked, and now it’s starting to hit me. [scribbles] and [scribbles] were trying to make me feel better, but I fucked up. It was only one ghost today, and I couldn’t catch them. It destroyed an entire store, and it’s my fault.

April 8

No ghosts today, surprisingly. But [scribbles] has been acting weird lately. The other day she poked and prodded me at dinner. No clue what that’s about. She also tried to give me this speech that I can talk to her about anything, and that she’d love me no matter what. That makes me think she found my binder. I’m honestly kinda freaking out. I knew I shouldn’t have left it out like that. She’s such a nosy know it all.

“Phantom must keep more records than just this,” Maddie lightly mused. “He has an entire binder full of information that somebody discovered.”

“Maybe on other ghosts?” Jack theorized. “He’s recording his fights, he must be also recording information about them.” Maddie’s eyes lit up.

“That makes so much sense,” she agreed. “He probably keeps so many kinds of things written down and logged. I wonder where he’s keeping it? Obviously paper, which is a bit odd. I figured a teenager would move to the digital age…” Maddie paused.

“Maybe he’s older than we think he is?” Jack suggested. “He could have died fifty years ago, and just be more comfortable with writing things down.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Maddie mused. She put down the notebook to take a long sip of her drink. Jack picked it up to observe the page she read.

“Phantom has neat handwriting,” he noted. “He’s not fighting ghosts when he writes these.” Jack’s eyes scanned the words. “...I wonder who he’s scribbled out.”

“Allies?” Maddie shrugged. “He probably went back and blacked out some of the names. Privacy. Especially if this isn’t the first time he’s lost this.”

It made the most logical sense. Jack skipped the purely log entries to one that had more written, and he read it aloud to his wife.

April 10

She was feeding on us. Spectra, the Casper High “psychologist” was feeding on emotions, like some kind of emotional vampire but she’s a ghost. It’s so scary. I saw her do it. She asked [scribbles] and [scribbles] about their lives. What made them unhappy, and why. And when they left, I saw her absorb? I guess how I’d describe it? She absorbed the energy into her skin and it just seemed to instantly revive her, and it made her happy. When she did it to me, I could just look in her eyes and know that she enjoyed every minute of my misery. I managed to stop her, with [scribbles] helping me. It was weird. She didn’t seem afraid of me. I don’t know why.

Spectra: 2; captured

“Ghosts can feed off of energy!” Maddie exclaimed. “Human energy! We always suspected it, but this is confirming something!” Jack glanced up at her excitedly. It was the first real, true ghostly discovery that Phantom was revealing to them.

April 13

All I do is fuck up lately. Because of me, this ghost dog just absolutely has been causing havoc on this girl’s life. She blames me. And I don’t blame her. I ruined her entire life. She lost her house because of me. I didn’t mean to. I tried to stop the dog, but he just won’t respond to anything I say. I can’t capture him. I’ve been trying. I’ve been just calling the dog Cujo. After the Stephen King book, because damn is this dog giving me one fucking nightmare of a time.

Cujo: 3, got away

April 16

[scribbles] kissed me. It was to force me to change back, and it worked, but she kissed me. It was great. She smelled like lavender. I don’t think my heart’s ever beaten so fast. Afterwards she clarified to me that it was just a fake-out make-out. It didn’t feel like it. I don’t want it to be. But she’s my best friend, and I can’t lose her. So I agreed, and when I came home I cried. My dad caught me, and I pretended it was just girl problems, even though that excuse made me feel even worse. He got me some ice cream, and we watched Star Trek together. It didn’t really help that much, if I’m being honest.

Anyway, apparently Cujo’s trained. He knows his commands. [scribbles] thinks it’s because he was a guard dog when he was alive for Axion Labs. For a guard dog, he’s such a playful puppy though, he loves his squeaky toy. And [scribbles] became a hunter specifically to kick my ass. It’s my lucky month. But I deserve it. Will there ever be a day where I actually can do more good than bad?

Skulker: 1; captured

[Scribbles]: 1 Red Huntress

Cujo: 1, got away

“Phantom has a family?” Maddie wondered. She chewed on her food as she thought. Jack shrugged, an odd, unsettled feeling hitting him as he put the book down for a moment. He used his spoon to push around his peas.

“I mean, we all do,” Jack reminded her. “Just...I didn’t think Phantom still talked to his family. After his death. Or did such...non-ghost things with them.” Watching Star Trek with his dad? Jack did that with his own kids all the time. It was his and his youngest daughter’s favorite show to watch together. Jazz typically preferred documentary series, and Maddie was too bothered by scientific inaccuracies to really enjoy science fiction. So it was always “their thing” and knowing that Phantom did it too was...too human.

“Yeah, I didn’t...really expect him to still be haunting them,” Maddie said. Jack could tell that this was disturbing her a little.

“But ghosts can retain their memories from life it seems,” Jack spoke up. Maddie stared at him. “The dog remembers commands from his life as a guard dog. What extent, I’m not sure.” Maddie hummed curiously.

Jack picked the book up again, skipping through more boring logs to other words.

April 29

Ember: 2; captured

Fenton Thermos: full, empty

The past few weeks have been terrible. I have definitely come to the conclusion that I really am developing a crush on [scribbles]. Or maybe I always had one, I dunno. Is this really just an effect from Ember’s supposed spell? Does ghostly mind control really last? I think I always knew that I liked her though. I mean, ever since I told her that [scribbles], she’s been so supportive. She even cut my hair for me, which really pissed my parents off, but they ended up admitting that I looked better with my hair short anyway. Almost like it’s meant to be, huh? Ha. [scribbles] is also one of the only two people who know my deeper secret. She’s been so supportive through that too. She calls me Danny, and every time she refers to me as that, it makes my heart go crazy.

But would she even like me? Would she even wanna be with somebody like me? I don’t think I’d be her type. Some other friends I met at this local support group have complained about the struggles of dating. The stories are depressing, and it makes me worried that while [scribbles] will always love and accept me as a friend, that she’d never be able to love me as a boyfriend. I hate my life.

“Aw, Phantom has a little girlfriend,” Jack half-joked, only for goosebumps to raise and an odd chill run down his spine. He looked to Maddie for her opinion, and her face was scrunched up.

“That’s a bit creepy,” she commented. “He’s pretending to be human.”

“I dunno, Mads,” Jack shrugged. He re-read the ghostly teen’s internal conflicts. “Why would he pretend to be human in a journal that nobody’s meant to read?”

“He has to be sharing it with his allies,” she argued. “Those people he’s been scribbling out. Phantom has to be pretending for them. To keep them around. He even mentioned ghostly mind control.”

She pushed her mostly-finished plate from herself, motioning for Jack to hand over the journal. He complied, and Maddie flipped through it. She stopped, and she set the journal down on the table once more. Leaning over, she studied the spine. A finger ran along the inner spine, and she frowned.

“Pages are missing,” she noticed. Jack pushed his plate out of the way to lean over as well.

Indeed, the top of the diary revealed that it was meant to be a normal, full diary. Now that Maddie pointed it out, it looked like well over a fourth of the diary had missing pages. Jack squinted, pulling his hood over his eyes. He used his googles to better examine.

“They weren’t ripped out, like in a ghost fight,” Jack told her. He pointed to what remained of a page, a barely noticeable strip. “It was carefully cut out.” Maddie narrowed her eyes to get a better look.

“You’re right,” she mused. “Phantom did this purposefully. Probably to hide stuff from his allies.”

“But why hide some stuff and not others?” Jack wondered aloud. “Clearly this girlfriend figure is an ally, but he can’t be...sharing this with her, right?” Maddie pulled back from the notebook to lean in her chair with a heavy sigh.

“...I don’t know,” she admitted. “I don’t think he would. But he’s also a ghost, they do weird things.” Jack didn’t know how to reply, and so he continued to read.

May 16

The past few days have been so full of drama. Walker ruined my life. He absolutely ruined it. He set out to make me the most hated person in Amity Park out of pure spite, and he succeeded. I’m public enemy number one. I can never win. For a while now, I had debated telling my parents, because I so desperately want their support, but they were part of the news coverage calling me a disgusting, evil ghost. I ended up crying yesterday. I don’t think they’ll ever truly love me if they knew. I also failed Wulf. Another failure on my plate. I’m just waiting for it to all crash down on me.

Walker: 1; sent to the GZ

Wulf: 1; sent to the GZ

Walker’s goons: at least 14, all captured

Fenton Thermos: overflowingly full

“Oh this is just becoming nonsense,” Maddie complained. “He’s lying. We were there, Jack! We saw him attack us.”

“I know, I know, he did, yeah, he did,” Jack tried to gather his thoughts. “But why would he lie in this? I don’t think anybody was meant to read this?” Jack flipped through the pages. The further he flipped through in, the more he could tell that some sections had more carefully cut out papers than others. Why was Phantom cutting out? What was he hiding? Why was he hiding it?

“He meant for somebody to read this,” Maddie lightly argued.

“Yeah, it seems like it, but…,” Jack trailed off. He shook his head a bit, flipping back to where they had left off. “I dunno.”

“Hold on a second,” Maddie urged him, standing up. “Let me get something to write with, we should take some notes.”

“We can just use the scanner to make a copy of the journal afterwards, and we can further analyze it afterwards,” Jack suggested. Maddie thought on this, and she nodded, but she still reached for some scrap paper and a pen.

“Good idea, we should probably read through it fully first anyway,” she agreed. “But I still want to jot down some thoughts.”

“Of course, of course,” Jack replied. He knew that’s how she thought and processed information best, and it was always from her notes that he could visualize his own theories properly. He took a drink of tea before he continued reading the next true entry.

May 24

My entire relationship with my other crush (not [scribbles]) was a lie. She was being overshadowed by Kitty the entire time. This was my first real girlfriend, and it was all fake. I had assumed I was so lucky. I found a girl who knew and was okay with both of my biggest secrets. When I got home I ended up just going straight to my room. [scribbles] brought me dinner, but I didn’t feel like eating. Is this what life is going to be for me? I don’t want it to be like this. The only good thing is that [scribbles] doesn’t know either secret alongside our brief relationship.

Least Kitty and Johnny seem happy again. For now at least. I swear, they’re always breaking up and getting back together.

Kitty: 1; sent back to the GZ

Johnny 13: 1; sent back to the GZ

Shadow: 1; sent back to the GZ

Jack could lightly hear Maddie taking notes on her scrap paper, the pen scratching at the surface. He didn’t comment on it, silently flipping to the next page, and he continued to read.

August 19

I was forced to really face the reality of how much I fucked up [scribbles] life. I hate it. I’d do anything to take it back. It makes me wonder if I should just retire. Am I even really doing anything to help? Am I just a nuisance? Everybody thinks that.

Rationally I know I can’t. I’m the only one who can properly deal with the ghosts, who has the power and abilities to fight back without getting killed. I have to do what I can, but I just wish I could do it without making so many mistakes. [scribbles] said that it’ll be okay, and that it gets better, but it sure doesn’t fucking feel like it.

Skulker: 3; finished

Red Huntress: 2; temporary truce?

“He’s so full of...emotion for a ghost,” Maddie finally spoke up.

Jack glanced at the paper she had in front of her. There was some notes of what they had been learning so far, and there were emotions written in all caps with a line under, and a list of various emotions. Emotions Phantom seemed to be displaying. Guilty, despair, loneliness, self-hatred, self-doubt. Despite the few entries, it was already quite a list.

“It’s not just him either,” Maddie continued. Jack rose an eyebrow at her. She didn’t immediately reply, fingers on her lips as she stared down at the journal. “He’s giving emotions to other ghosts too.”

Jack stared down blankly at the journal in his hands.

“Where?”

Maddie began to write, and as she wrote, it clicked. Spectra’s joy in hurting others. Kitty and Johnny’s relationship. Walker’s spite. Cujo being a playful puppy. According to Phantom, and against what they knew as scientists, ghosts were experiencing a wide variety of emotions and for different reasons. It was weird.

Jack continued to read.

October 17

I don’t know what happened the past few days. It’s this weird blur. According to [scribbles] and [scribbles] I did a lot of bad things under Freakshow’s control. [scribbles] hugged me and told me that it was nothing that we couldn’t fix, but I doubt that. Why does this keep happening to me? I don’t want to hurt people. I want to be a good person, and I want to help Amity Park, but I don’t know what keeps happening. Everything’s a fog, and I’m exhausted.

Freakshow: 1; arrested by APPD

Circus ghosts: freed from Freakshow’s control, went back to the GZ

Replace Fenton Anti-Creep Stick, print out another sticker to put on it

“Freakshow...that was the weird circus guy,” Jack interrupted himself. Maddie nodded.

“Yeah, and if Phantom’s right...he could control the ghosts,” she mused. “So there’s a way for humans to take control of ghosts...That’s something to look into. If we can control the ghosts into staying away, it’d be such a massive scientific breakthrough.”

“We should look into Freakshow more, and see if we can talk to him!” Jack agreed. “Maybe he’ll share something with us.” Maddie smiled softly.

“I doubt that,” she replied gently. “But there’s no harm in trying. What else does it say?”

November 8

I have to fight Pariah Dark. I’m terrified. I don’t think I’ll live through it. How can I live through fighting the actual ghost king? I may never see my family again, and I can’t even tell them what happened to me if I die. I’ve been debating telling [scribbles] that I like her, but I don’t think I could bring myself to do it.

What happens if I die? I have no clue. I’m scared to find out. I can’t die now. I have to make it back. I’ll go missing, and I won’t even be declared dead as my parents’ son. Nobody will know who to really look for. I have to come back. Maybe if I succeed, and people like me again after this, I can tell my family everything.

November 10

I couldn’t tell them. My parents still despise part of me, despite what I’ve done. I know they love me, cause my mom’s already been fussing over me like crazy because of my injuries. [scribbles] said she cried when they couldn’t find me, and that my dad had gone out looking for me all over the city, even in the dangerous parts. They of course love me, but do they really love me unconditionally?

Jack felt his voice trailing off as he hit the end. He coughed lightly, and he took a long drink. Maddie stared off into nothing. The only thing he could think of was his own search for his baby girl. He wasn’t alone, bumping into several other parents desperately looking for their missing children, and several children who got separated from their parents. The entire day was somber and frightening, and Maddie had spent the entire day glued to the phone. In case she called them.

It was all...too real, and Jack flipped past more logs. He couldn’t help but begin to take note of how every single day had a log of ghost fighting activities, even if Phantom didn’t write down his feelings every day. This was so much more than the ghost hunting duo ever expected, more attacks than they were recording.

His eyes rested only for a moment on December 19, and he decided to just skip it. They had already read it earlier. No need to refresh those memories. More logs, and more missing pages, and he came upon another one.

March 26

I ripped out a lot of pages, more than I intended. I can’t risk anybody finding out what happened, but also other pages revealed too much, so I kept them tucked away where nobody could ever find them. I’d burn them, but I don’t want to lose the ghost hunting data. It’s okay now. I fixed the problem and assured that everything’s going to be fine. Possibly better. I made the right choice this time, and now I know that one day, I will grow a sick beard.

I know somebody knows my secrets now. All of them. She had known for months but wanted me to tell her. She asked me if I had a name, and ever since I told her that it was Danny, she’s been calling me that whenever she can. It made me cry the first time. It’s so great to have her know everything now. She loves me no matter what. I couldn’t ask for a better person. Even though she found out because I’m an idiot. This entire thing also made me realize how important it is to keep those secrets, and how poorly I’ve been keeping them.

I didn’t ever mean for this to turn into a diary. I wanted to keep track of ghost fights. But it honestly helps with both the dysphoria and the stresses of being a ghost. I just went back and scribbled out names. Just in case. In the future I need to be more vague.

But this is also the end for one secret. If things go wrong then well. I don’t know. I’ll make it up as I go along. But I know that this is who I am, and that I’m hitting a point where I need help to just be me.

Him: 1; captured for good

Skulker: 2; captured

Desiree: 1; captured

Ectopusses: 1; captured

Cujo: 1, sent back to the GZ

Fenton Thermos: full

Fenton Anti-Creep Stick: destroyed, get new bat and sticker to put on it

Also learned a new ghost power: Ghostly wail. A scream that can just absolutely fuck somebody’s day up. I have to use it sparingly though.

Jack closed the journal, and he set it flat on the table. His mind was blank, and he couldn’t read Maddie. She continued to stare at the closed book, hand in pen but almost unsure as to what to even jot down as a note. He leaned in his seat, finishing his drink. Maddie exhaled deeply, dropping her pen in favor of stretching.

Neither said a word. Jack knew that this journal was not any kind of trick. It was too raw and emotional to be anything more than the thoughts of a teenage ghost. He regretted reading it. It held some interesting information, and he was sure if he dug deeper, that he would find more. But as it stood, his own intense guilt was settling as he knew that he just took too personal a look into the private emotional afterlife of Phantom.

“This is a lot to take in,” Maddie finally spoke. Jack only nodded.

The basement door opened, and they heard dual pairs of footsteps hop downstairs. Jack instantly brightened, and he turned in his chair to smile as his kids soon came into view.

“Hey, is this a bad time?” Jazz asked. She glanced between them, and Jack immediately shook his head no.

“No, no,” Maddie replied quickly. Jack saw her push the journal and her notes, along with her pen and a few spare lab tools, carelessly into a drawer to help assure the Fenton kids that they weren’t interrupting anything. “What’s up, sweetie?”

“Well, I have something that I wanna talk about,” their youngest spoke slowly. Jack noticed that she had finally taken off her hoodie, and that while she wore her normal tomboy attire, that something was a bit off about her. He couldn’t place it. Jazz stood close to her, an arm full of books clutched to her chest, though he couldn’t make out any titles. “It’s something important, and I don’t really want to put it off any longer.”

“Is something wrong? Are you in trouble?” Jack asked. His daughter shook her head no.

“Oh, no!” she said. “It’s just…”

She took a deep breath, and soon, their son began to explain.

#phics #my phics #phic phight #team ghost

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sincerelyasomebody · 4 years

Text

All That Glitters || Jose "Sad Eyes" Guzman

(GIF Credit: @merakiaes)

A/N: Jose will be used in the form of Sad Eyes' name, as far as I know his actual name hasn't been revealed in the show. I tried my best to correct any mistakes I could find. I am not a native Spanish speaker, translations will be at the bottom. If there are any mistakes, please let me know. Thanks!

Pairing(s): Sad Eyes x Reader ▪︎ OC x Reader (past relationship)

Summary: A family get-together turns into an emotional rollercoaster.

Warnings: angsty, fluff, language, mentions of cheating, talks of death, unsupportive mother and stepfather

Word Count: 2419

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Nana Helen and Papa Victor were absolutely adored by their children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Not only adored but highly respected.

Therefore introducing a significant other to them was a big deal. It was something only done if you saw yourself with that person in the long run.

And (Y/N) saw a future with Jose.

Sure, she had other relationships before he came along but they didn't reach this step. The furthest they ever got was her parents and siblings. So, when her relationship developed a connection she had never experienced, she knew it was only right to introduce him to the people who meant the world to her.

From her spot in the kitchen, she looked into the living room and smiled as he sat with her nana on the couch. The old woman had pulled out the photo albums, pointing to each picture and telling the story behind it. Her papa in the armchair in the corner beside them.

Her nieces and nephews were spread across the floor in front of the t.v, immersed in the world that was Despicable Me.

She could hear the laughter of her younger cousins upstairs. Not a doubt in her mind that they were doing Tik Tok videos. Her siblings were probably with them, she concluded, if the sound of a slap and a shout of her brother's name was anything to go by.

The uncles and a few of her boy cousins were sitting in the backyard, sipping on beers and talking about Mike Tyson coming out of retirement. She was sure Jose would join them after talking with her grandparents.

Which left her in the kitchen and dining room area with her mother, aunts and girl cousins.

"You shouldn't have brought him."

With a heavy sigh, she turned around and faced her mother, "not this again." She walked over to the sink to wash her hands before helping to chop up the vegetables for the salad. "He's my boyfriend."

Pauline looked at her daughter, "he's a gang member, (Y/N)."

She dumped the cut up vegetables into a salad bowl, "Ash, make yourself useful." She held out the bowl and large wooden fork and spoon. The girl in question stood up, with a huff pocketing her phone, and grabbed the outstretched items.

When (Y/N) introduced Jose to her mother, Frank (she refused to call the man her mother married a month after the death of her father, dad), her brothers Samuel and Anthony, she didn't hide the fact he was a Santo. Although they lived a couple towns over, it wasn't hard to know the gang that ran (protected, she corrected) Freeridge.

But, she didn't care.

He was known as Sad Eyes, the feared right-hand man of the gang leader Spooky, in the streets. If there were issues he was sent to deal with them. He was also known as Jose, a momma's boy with a big heart and an appetite to match. He'd go to the ends of the Earth to make sure his family was taken care of.

(Y/N) accepted both sides of him.

But, most of all she loved both sides of him.

Without another word, she walked into the living room and plopped herself next to her man. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Everything okay, mi alma?"

She nodded, "yeah, don't worry about it."

Helen beamed at the interaction, "oooh." She looked at her husband, "Vic look at our grandbaby."

"I see her." He replied with a chuckle, "and she looks as happy as she was when she got that twenty dollars from the tooth fairy. Maybe even happier."

(Y/N) buried her face into the crook of Jose's neck, causing a round of laughter from the three.

When the call for everybody to come to the dining room, (Y/N) and Jose got up off the couch. Jose helped Helen up, to which she patted his hand as a thank you. Victor waved him off when he tried to offer his hand, choosing to use his walking stick instead. They walked to where the food was, (Y/N) stayed behind to gather the little ones together.

"Lucas and Bryson," she called out to the eight year olds, they were the oldest of the bunch, "go upstairs and tell them it's time to eat."

They nodded and sprinted to the staircase.

She picked up Melody, the three year old, who had fallen asleep on the ground, told the rest of the kids to get going and switched off the t.v. She followed them and handed Mel off to her dad, her cousin Micah. He thanked her and she walked over to Jose, taking his hand in hers.

"Thank you all for coming." Helen looked at her family, all managing to squeeze into the dining room and kitchen, "Jose, thank you for being here."

Jose smiled at her, "thank you for having me."

(Y/N) couldn't help but grin at him, which got a few teasing words from the cousins. She laughed along with them, just happy that her grandma had accepted him.

Victor spoke up, "yes, we're thankful for family," his eyes scanned over to Jose, "we're also thankful to have found someone who loves our (Y/N) very much. So, Jose, thank you… you don't know how much it truly means to see her happy."

He responded with a nod, (Y/N) grinning wider if that was even possible. She was extremely elated, she just received the stamp of approval from her favourite people.

"Te amo," she whispered.

He bent down and pecked her lips, "Te amo."

Victor led the family in prayer, before they dished out their meals.

Loud chatter between the cousins occurred as they tried to decide what to grab, parents telling their children to get some salad and the grandparents making sure there was enough food for everyone.

Before (Y/N) could grab herself and Jose a plate, the doorbell rang.

Pauline rushed towards the front door. (Y/N), just like everybody else, was confused as the entire family had already been accounted for. That didn't stop them from wanting to see who it was though.

When Pauline stepped back into the view of everyone with her ex boyfriend, Colby, by her side (Y/N) thought she might lose it.

Thankfully, before she could say anything Samuel spoke up.

"What the fuck?"

Pauline glared in his direction, "watch your mouth."

Helen and Victor were confused with his behaviour, because Samuel knew better than to cuss in their home.

"Samuel, listen to your mother." Helen reprimanded, "you know I don't like cussing."

"Sorry, nana." He apologised, "but it's fucked up that mum would bring (Y/N)'s ex boyfriend to a family get-together while she's here with her current boyfriend."

Anthony piped up, "straight up, disrespectful."

Everyone looked back and forth between (Y/N) and the newcomer.

(Y/N) glanced over at Jose, noticing his clenched jaw, she rubbed her thumb over his hand and stood on her toes to peck his cheek.

He knew Pauline didn't like him, but he didn't think she'd pull something like this. Unfortunately for her, he and (Y/N) were solid.

Colby held his hands up, "I didn't come here to cause any drama." His eyes focused on (Y/N), "I just want to talk to (Y/N)."

She took a deep breath, "nana and papa, I'm sorry." She looked back at Colby, "fuck no," looking over at her mum, "fuck you," and then at Frank, "and fuck you, too 'cause I know you had something to do with it." tugging on Jose's hand, she moved through the kitchen, "we're leaving."

As they passed through the kitchen, living room and through the front door, (Y/N) ranting along the way.

"What the fuck was she thinking? That Colby would show up and I'd dump you to be with him," she threw her hands in the air, "no fucking way! As soon as I caught him cheating, it was a wrap."

They looked back over at the house, the (L/N) family plus one scrambling out of the door. They stayed on the porch except for Pauline, Frank, Colby, Helen and Victor who marched towards them. They both straightened up, waiting for what was to come.

"(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!" screeched Pauline, "what's wrong with you."

"Me? What's wrong with you? Why would you bring Colby here? What the fuck was going through your head to make you think that this was a good idea?"

"He's better than -"

She shook her head, "He's a fucking piece of shit "

"(Y/N), your mum was just -"

"Shut up, Frank." She hissed, "nobody asked for your input."

"Don't talk to him like that."

"I can talk to him however the fuck I want."

Pauline growled, "this is ridiculous," she turned to her parents, "he's in a gang! A c-criminal! You do know that right?"

"Wow, (Y/N)... really?" Colby smirked.

(Y/N) glared at him, "why the fuck are you still here? Seriously, fuck off."

"I want to -"

"Yeah, I know what you want but you aren't getting anything from me." She cut him off, "so go away."

When he stepped towards her, Jose immediately jumped in front of her, blocking him from getting closer, "back up."

Colby laughed, "what? You wanna fight?"

"Back up," he repeated, "last warning."

Helen and Victor carefully watched the exchange, they already approved of Jose, even before Pauline exclaimed he was in a gang - they already knew. He told them himself and while it did make them uncomfortable, their opinion about him didn't change. If anything, they respected him for coming clean in the first place.

Out of all the grandchildren, (Y/N) spent the most time with them.

They watched her grow from a curious child to a reserved teenager. She isolated herself when her father died and it worried them to no end. But they allowed her to grieve in whatever way she wanted. And as she grew into the woman she was today, their worries about her finding somebody worthy of her attention had vanished upon meeting Jose.

They couldn't have wished for a better person for their grandbaby to be with.

"Okay, boys that's enough." Victor spoke up, "Colton -"

"Colby."

" - whatever your name is, move away from my granddaughter or else I'll have to deal with you," he exclaimed.

Colby moved back to stand with Pauline and Frank, whereas Jose stood beside (Y/N).

"(Y/N) and Jose, please come back inside." Helen gestured towards the house, "please?"

"It's fine, nana." (Y/N) replied. "We're just gonna head off, I… I'm, uh… I'm sorry for causing -"

She shook her head, "sweetpea, don't apologise." Her eyes wandered over to her daughter, "it's your mother who should be apologising."

"Did you not hear me when I said she's with a criminal?" exclaimed Pauline.

"As long as my grandbaby is happy, I'm happy." Helen replied, "well, I better get you both a to-go plate."

Before (Y/N) could protest, she was walking away with Victor by her side. She laughed when her cousins scrambled over each other to move out of the way. Her laughter was cut short by Frank.

"Are you sure you want to be with Jose? Like, really sure? Have you met his family? Do you see yourself -"

"Please, shut up." (Y/N) responded, "just shut up."

"I'm not going to repeat myself, (Y/N)." Pauline threatened.

She shrugged her shoulders, "then don't." Her eyes narrowed, "I'm sick of your bullshit. Get it through your head and accept that Jose and I are together."

"Why? When I know you can do better."

(Y/N) scoffed, "really?"

"Yes! I'm your mother which -"

"Which means shit, absolute shit." She responded, "I'm done with you, Pauline. I-I can't keep going back and forth with you."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not good enough."

"Okay, when have I ever -"

"When I twisted my ankle in soccer, you told me it was because I wasn't made for it. When I joined the writing club in high school, you told me it was stupid. When I chose to become an elementary school teacher, you told me that I should've become a doctor or a nurse instead." She listed, her jaw clenched, "there's other shit you've done, but I'm too upset to think about them. The main theme of it all is this - nothing I've ever done and probably will do is good enough, in your eyes."

During this time the grandparents had resurfaced onto the scene. Jose accepted the tupperware with thanks and placed it in the car. He stepped aside and watched the scene unfold. He knew (Y/N)'s relationship with her mother was rocky, so he knew that she needed to get some things off her chest.

Pauline scoffed, "quit being dramatic, (Y/N)."

She took a deep breath, tears blurring her vision which she rubbed away. "See, that right there is another issue in itself. Whenever I express my feelings, you blow them off! A-and I'm tired of it. I'm tired of your bullshit, it ends now!"

"Stop the theatrics."

"I don't want anything to do with you," she affirmed.

(Y/N) walked around her to reach her grandparents but was stopped by Colby, "move of my way."

"Please, just hear -"

"My girl says move, you move." Jose asserted, eyes blazing.

Colby, finally admitting defeat, moved aside.

She kissed both of their cheeks and pulled them into a hug, "thank you for accepting Jose, it means a lot."

"He loves our grandbaby." Helen exclaimed, "a done deal,"

Victor held out his hand to Jose, "you take care of her."

"With my life," Jose replied, giving him a firm shake.

With a promise to come back and visit, the pair walked back over to the car. Jose held her door open, (Y/N) pecked his cheek and got in. When he reached the drivers' side they buckled up.

But of course, Pauline couldn't let them leave without saying something.

"You're choosing him over this family?"

"I'm choosing to be happy," (Y/N) corrected, leaning her head out the window, "I love you crazies, I'll keep in touch."

And with the shouts of goodbyes from her family, Jose pulled onto the open road.

With a bright smile, Jose's hand in hers and the low hum of the radio, (Y/N) felt at peace.

- ♤ - ♡ - ◇ - ♧ -

Spanish Translation(s):

Mi alma - my soul

Te amo - I love you

#sad eyes #sad eyes guzman #sad eyes x reader #sad eyes guzman x reader #x reader #reader insert #freeridge #los santos #on my block #onmyblockfanfiction #sincerelyasomebody

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