#sorry I just want people to stop sleeping on Chay

[ravenpureforever]

So I know we all joke about Porchay living his best Wattpad life, myself included, but I think we all kind of ignore how Kim just never dissuaded him from that notion and how we find that genre dissonance between Porsche & Kim’s view (and often our audience view) of Chay and how he actually acts, and we’re all sleeping on the mini character arc he’s gotten over the course of the series.

Porsche and Kim don’t want Chay to get caught up in the mafia world, and they both seem to view him in the same lense: he’s innoncent, sweet, incorruptible.

But Chay has fucking balls man, and he’s a lot more resilient than people give him credit for. He also ignores red flags like he’s color blind. We don’t get to see much of him, but the glimpses we do get show there is so much more beneath the surface.

First:

Man grew up with Porsche & a dead beat Uncle, you telling me he didn’t see some shit growing up? No matter how well Porsche protected him, Chay is the one dressing his wounds when he comes back from fighting, Chay still hears the loan sharks coming for his Uncle, he’s growing up watching his older brother as really the only source of income for his household. And he can’t do anything about it. Watching episode 1, when Chay asks Porsche to let him get a job and help out, it feels like they’ve had this conversation before, it feels resigned, it feels like a final quiet plea of “we’ve talked about this before, but please, please, please just consider it.” But Porsche says no, I’m going to take care of it and I can’t help but think of the impact that has, of watching the person he loves most get beat down again and again and not being able to do anything about it. I feel like Chay probably grew up being the peacekeeper, the one trying to keep the waters calm. Its clear he knows he’s his brother’s world, that his brother has done so much to keep him sheltered and happy, and I can think of Porsche teaching Chay manners, teaching him ideals of being kind to others and Chay just internalizing it and deciding “ah yes, so this is my role in the family, this is how I can help my brother.” Chay probably felt a lot of pressure, no matter how unintentionally and how unconditionally Porsche loves him, to be a reason why his brother is doing all of this, he’s probably hyper aware of how he’s Porsche’s motivation, that everything his brother does is for him. That does things to your self-worth, to how you view yourself. I get the feeling hasn’t had any agency over his own life before, he’s always been the princess locked in the tower, aware of the war but not allowed to participate. His happily ever has been chosen and now he just has to see it through.

Then literally overnight, he wakes up and his Uncle has vanished, and his brother has left with just a fairly suspicious note about pursuing his dream that’ll completely be able to fully support Chay. His entire way of living has transformed, and now he’s completely alone. He went from princess locked in a tower as a war rages on to a Queen of a decimated kingdom. He can not grieve, he can only have faith and move forward.

This is also how I realized Chay has practically been designed to ignore all red flags and interpret them as something else.

Enter Kim, stage right. Enter Chay’s wattpad fantasy come to life, also stage right.

When Chay meets Kim, he is someone who has literally nothing to lose throwing himself out there. My boy literally just recites an encyclopedia knowledge of “Wik, sir, you are my hyper fixation” all in the hopes of getting that T-shirt. And it works! His idol signs his T-shirt, he gets to talk to his idol, he has been rewarded for putting himself out there!

So go big or go home right? He might as well try asking for a tutor when asked if there’s anything he wants. And he’s shot down. No big deal, he moves on and has merch thats going to be the envy of the Wik fandom.

But then his idol calls him, and says he’ll tutor him. Wik remembered him, remembered his request, and then proceeded to hunt down a way to get Chay’s phone number and call him personally in order to tell him he’s decided to he’s going to help him get into the his dream department that he himself is apart of.

Its easy to view Chay from Kim’s perspective, as an excitable fanboy with a crush, but we forget how Kim looks from Chay’s perspective. So lets look on how everything seems from Chay’s perspective.

Chay put himself out there, made a decision solely for himself and what he wants and now his idol wants to tutor him. He’s been actively rewarded twice now, by the same person, for asserting what he wants and trying to get it. He’s gotten his cake and is eating it too. He has a celebrity crush like most people get, only his celebrity crush is now making the effort to genuinely get to know him. 

Wik tells Chay his name is Kim, he’s being open and vulnerable to Chay, and he’s trusting him with his identity. Kim asks about his brother, even though Chay didn’t tell him, red flag to any normal person citing he saw Chay’s screensaver and made an assumption. Kim is taking an interest in his life, he notices little details about him, and is asking to here more about the coolest person in the world, his brother and even noticed how much Chay loves Porsche that he wants Chay to write a song about it! He even trusts Chay enough to ask for his phone when Kim’s phone has died, even though that’ll mean there’s important numbers in Chay’s call history, and he trusts that Chay won’t take advantage of them!

And maybe Chay starts to fall a bit in love with Kim. Not Wik, but Kim, who’s a little bit insecure, a little bit awkward, but is making all this effort for Chay.

For Chay, it isn’t anything manipulative or suspicious, he’s becoming friends Kim, they’re sharing information about themselves, they’re bonding now, and he’s been shown that if he pushes, Kim will stay. Chay is all alone now, he has to take care of himself, but if he makes an effort and keeps putting himself out there, if he makes his wants known, Kim comes to him. Kim trusts him, and as long as Chay takes the initiative, he also makes the effort to bond with Chay.

Then Porsche comes back! Chay isn’t alone anymore, and they’re happy and safe and Porsche isn’t getting beat up! And then Porsche once again immediately leaves without a word and few days later you get the first call you’ve gotten from him since he left the first time and now he’s back at work and doesn’t know when he’ll be back again. He’s all alone, and his brother has seem to get a new life that once again Chay’s not allowed to be apart of.

But then Kim shows up at his house! And Chay immediately throws his brother under the bus in a desperate bid to keep Kim’s good opinion of him, once again, gotta admire the sheer balls and audacity of that move. Then Kim gifts him one of his guitars! Porsche do you understand how easily your brother could be taken advantage of do you? Sure he almost gets the heart attack of Kim discovering his shrine, but what teenager doesn’t have posters on the wall of his favorite singer? Maybe it’s weird that he wants Chay to go get the food for them both, but he could have an important phone call to make, he could be nervous going out in public where people could recognize him! Then when he gets back Kim asks him about his love life! Kim ruffles his hair! Kim tells him to write a love song!

Kim is checking off all the boxes of my crush likes me back.

So when Kim ghosts him a little, Chay makes the obvious conclusion. Show up at his house and sing him the love song he wrote! He’s been shown time, and time again that if he reaches out to Kim, Kim will eventually grab his hand. Kim has shown to be awkward and a little of unsure of himself around Chay, but relaxes when Chay takes the initiative. So Chay does what’s always worked. With literally no fear or anxiety whatsoever.

And with episode 13, we see how close they were getting. We see how they went out to places together, romantically or platonically, and they took pictures together! They were friends, they were close, they had a level of trust and bonding and vulnerability for Chay to take photos with Kim and leave them around his house for Kim to find!

So Chay once again has nothing left to lose, and shoots his final shot and confesses to Kim. And Kim kisses him! They hug! Kim may or may not have come home with him that night but at some point in they’re relationship post confession, they fall asleep cuddling on the couch.

And Chay and Porsche are very similar. They fall in love quickly, they become very devoted and loyal to that love, and they are honest about it. Chay and Porsche are both the first ones to say I love you, but while Porsche doesn’t ask for a reply, Chay does. Because Kim has shown time and time again that Chay needs to take the initiative. So he asks Kim: I love you, do you love me?

But he stops at that and lets Kim take his time. Because that’s the song and dance their courtship has been taking, Chay flirts, Chay pushes forward and then Kim comes to meet him the rest of the way.

Chay is living in a Wattpad fantasy: he meets his idol crush, his idol crush becomes fascinated with him, he sees the real human behind his idol crush’s persona and falls in love with the awkward, sweet person underneath, he confesses his love and the feeling is mutual! And all of this seems to be fate, like this perfect love story and the happy ending he actually wants. He’s practically gotten into his dream department with the boy of his dreams who loves him back.

He’s confirming it is all real, and letting Kim know that it’s all real on his end.

And then he gets fucking kidnapped. And then he gets indisputable proof that his brother has been lying to him this entire time, and he was kidnapped because of that secret life his brother was lying about it.

The ultimatum may seem harsh, but it makes sense when you see it from Chay’s perspective. He probably feels essentially abandoned by his brother for the past two months, and he’s understandably pissed about everything thats happened in the last 48 hours or so. His brother can be part of his life and they can go back to the way things were, but Chay can’t be a part of his life if his brother is in the mafia, and its true. Porsche has spent all this time telling Chay he wants him to get into a good school and get a good job and be surrounded by good people with a good social life. You can’t have that in the mafia, and Chay knows that. So from Chay’s perspective, his brother has basically just been a complete hypocrite to everything his brother taught him.

And while Porsche has been shown the type of person to be willing to throw away his morals and beliefs when it comes to the people he loves, Chay isn’t. His entire life has been surrounded on those ideals of being a good, kind person who lives a good life. And he’s understandably terrified of the thought of losing his brother and truly being on his own. He’s basically lost his only emotional support system for two months, and if his brother dies, he loses him for good.

So Chay says him or me, because in his mind either way he could lose his brother, but this is Chay making his own decision, this is Chay fighting back and reminding Porsche that see you hurt makes me hurt too. This ultimatum reminds Porsche that his actions have conquenses on Chay too, and it shows how Chay has grown up in his absence. Chay in episode one was willing to just bow his head and listen to what his brother, but Chay in episode 10 is willing to speak out, he’s no longer willing to be simply passive in his brother’s plans for him.

In the end, he and Porsche communicate, and we get a taste of how Chay is, like Porsche, willing to throw away his ideals because he loves someone. But now he’s been dragged into a completely unfamiliar world, he’s truly been into a different kingdom where he doesn’t have any of the power or agency he’s gotten used to having in Porsche’s absence.

And then its revealed the love of his life is part of the mafia, and he’s just gotta sit there and pretend like nothings wrong.

Side note: while it’s absolutely hilarious that absolutely nobody learned about the KimChay romance, it also makes a lot of sense. Rule number one of Wattpad romance: You NEVER tell your overprotective brother your in love or dating or got dumped. You NEVER let your big brother know about your love life. Rule number two of Wattpad romance: When dating a celebrity, you NEVER leave a hint that any fans could pick up on. You ALWAYS need to keep the relationship a secret for as long as humanly possible. Chay thinks he knows what genre he’s in, and he’s being smart about it.

So Chay goes to confront him. Like doesn’t even hesitate, just shows up like bitch you better explain yourself. Because that’s what he does, only this time he does it out of anger, not out of love.

And Kim tells him that his entire reality was a lie. When Chay breaks down crying, it’s not just because Kim dumped him, though that had to hurt, its because that means their entire friendship, all the kindness and effort Kim showed him, all the time they spent together, all the moments Chay thought were sweet, thought they were bonding and falling mutually in love was a complete and utter lie. He’s just been made a fool, and his entire life has been completely transformed and he has no control over any of it.

So he spirals and self destructs. Him ditching the interview may seem dumb and like he’s throwing everything Porsche worked for away, but think about it. Everything about this interview is going to reminder of Kim and how he betrayed Chay’s love and trust. This interview is a reminder of how his brother threw away his own life for Chay to have a future their parents would be proud of, despite his protests. This interview is an embodiment of Chay’s own lack of control in his own life, it has become a symbol of his pain.

Everything in Chay’s life has fallen apart and now he has to pick up the pieces and find his place in the new world he’s in.

So he tries to take back that lost control and ditches the interview. He does the stereotypical new haircut new me era. He goes out drinking with friends. Chay can’t talk to Porsche about any of this, he can’t be honest with friends about any of this. He doesn’t have any real support system in his life right now, and he’s falling apart. For the past two months he’s been in charge of his life for the first time, only for it to be yanked away and everything he knows to disappear. He wants to get that control back, but he has no clue how, and he has no one to help him. So he makes some dumbass decisions, but its not just because of Kim, it’s because desperately grappling for a sense of agency in a world that keeps stripping him of it.

And then Kim comes back into his life, and in Chay’s perspective, tries to take away his agency again and toy with his emotions. “You said you don’t care about me, but here you are caring about me,” and it makes him angry. So in episode 13, he tries to cut Kim off, he ignores his calls and blocks his number to assert his control of their relationship.

And then his agency and control is once again taken when Porsche wakes him up and (presumably) drops him off at Yok’s and (probably) doesn’t tell about anything that happens.

His Wattpad dream life romance has fallen apart, he’s had to leave his old life completely behind, and now he’s left in the ashes trying to figure put who he is and where he stands in this situation, trying to be his own person without anyone there to help him.

Conclusion: I think Chay is someone who strives to be kind and polite, and like Porsche wants to see the best in people, but he’s also incredibly brave and put into the position where he’s really making his own decisions for the first time in his life. He’s frustrated, he’s unsure, he’s making mistakes and fumbling around, but he’s a young adult finally trying to take control of his life after everything has been ripped out underneath him, and I think that side of him could be explored to.

I think Chay is the type of person who’s sweet and respectful, but when push comes to shove, he’s shown to be a no nonsense kind of person who isn’t afraid to backdown. He’ll listen, he’ll comprise, but Chay has a lot more of a spine and a no fear attitude than people give him credit for, but right now he’s desperately trying to assert his agency in a narrative that keeps taking it from him, and its causing him to self destruct.

I’m genuinely excited to see where his arc from passive princess in tower to living a self-insert life to currently self destructive extensional crisis ends up. We’ve only gotten a few scenes with him, but they’ve shown so much of a character arc that I feel people are sleeping on.

[prismartist]

Ao3

The first thing Chayanne sees when he wakes up is Tallulah standing next to his bed, staring blankly at him. She’s holding a maraca up as if to shake it—or maybe hit him with it. You never really know with Tallulah. In any case, he flinches. She lowers the maraca and smiles, but it doesn’t reach her ears.

“Good morning, Chay. You slept in.”

Chayanne doesn’t really feel like talking. “Mm. I did.”

“For a long time.”

“Mhm.”

Tallulah’s bangs barely hides the concern in her eyes. “You don’t usually sleep in this late.”

“So?”

Chayanne promptly shuts his mouth as soon as the harsh tone escapes it. Tallulah’s brows furrow, but she says nothing else. Quickly Chayanne turns over, not wanting to look at Tallulah’s face; somehow her stoic reaction is worse than if she had actually looked hurt. 

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m still tired.”

“It’s okay, Chay,” he hears her say. “Is everything okay?” 

Chayanne only folds the pillow around his head, like it would somehow block out everything. Not that there’s much to block out. It’s too silent in the bunker. He can’t hear his father’s laugh.

“Chay-”

“Is Dad gone?”

A pause. “Abuelito?”

Chayanne hums in affirmation.

“Yes, he is. He left yesterday.”

“Oh. Okay.”

The sound of shuffling and a maraca moves from one side of the bed to the other, and Chayanne opens his eyes to once again see Tallulah staring at him. He can’t help but snicker a bit at that. Tallulah smiles in turn.

“I learned this trick from Tio Forever,” she says. “If people turn away, just move back in front of them. He does it a lot. Well… he does it to Abuelito a lot.”

“To annoy him?”

“Eh… I guess so. It’s to stop people from avoiding conversation.”

He purses his lips, and Tallulah imitates him. 

“Don’t feel bad that you missed him,” she says. “I know you can sleep heavy. It’s just…”

Tallulah trails off, but Chayanne knows what she’s thinking. It’s not normal for you. Not when it’s so long. Not when it’s your dad.

Chayanne sighs and turns so his back is flat on the bed, and he’s staring up at the ceiling. He puts the flesh of his palms to his black eyes as he shuts them again and takes a deep breath. 

“I knew he was leaving today,” he murmurs.

He can basically feel Tallulah frown. “You don’t have to feel guilty about sleeping in. I know how hard it is to control it. It wasn’t on purpose.”

Chayanne doesn’t say anything for a long while.

“It was.”

“Huh?”

Chayanne removes his hands and looks at Tallulah. “I slept in on purpose.”

She’s looking at him carefully, scanning his face. Tallulah doesn’t quite ask “Why?” as she does state it, like she only says it so she can confirm what she already knows.

“I…” Chayanne sits up to face Tallulah; lying on his hair feels like it’s tugging on his scalp. He recollects his thoughts. “I thought, if I…” Nevermind, he can’t recollect his thoughts. He has a quiet urge to pull at his hair.

“Can I guess?” Tallulah asks.

“Sure,” Chayanne says, because he can’t seem to say anything else.

“Were you scared of saying goodbye to Abuelito?”

Chayanne considers it. “I guess. I don’t know why.”

Tallulah hums. “I get it. I don’t really know why either, I think…”

She cups her chin thoughtfully, and Chayanne smiles softly at how serious her expression becomes. “I think it’s because, if you say goodbye, then it feels… real.”

“I guess.” Chayanne thinks further, pouting slightly. “I don’t think it’s just that, though.”

Tallulah meets his eyes. 

“You didn’t want to see him go.”

The words settle comfortably next to the dread in Chayanne’s gut. He nods.

“So you slept in, so you didn’t have to.”

He nods again. “I didn’t want it to be real.”

Tallulah’s face creases with sympathy. 

“You stole that from me,” she jabs.

Chayanne shrugs helplessly. “It seemed to work for you.”

Tallulah smiles back sadly. “Only for a tiny bit. It’s not very helpful, actually. I mean…” she gestures vaguely to the vast room. “It still ends up being real.”

“It does.” He lolls his head, realising how oppressive the quiet feels. “It is really quiet.”

“Mhm. It’s… worse than I thought it would be.” 

Chayanne sharply looks at her. “It is hard for you too, isn’t it? Since you’re already missing your dad.”

She shrugs loosely. “I guess… but I think because of my papi, I’m used to it.”

“How do you handle it? I can’t even imagine spending a week without either of my dads. How have you spent two months without Wilbur?”

Tallulah intertwines her clawed hands on the bed. “Well, it wasn’t easy at first. At first I just wanted to do what you’re doing, sleep and sleep all day… you know that. But, hanging out with Abuelito…” she pauses. “And hanging out with all the other tios and eggs is fun. And I know when he comes back, it will be worth it.” She gives a humourless grin. “If we live to see it.” 

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s not impossible.”

“That doesn’t make it possible.”

Tallulah makes a face. “That doesn’t make sense. But if you’re so concerned about dying, then you shouldn’t sleep in. We have quests to do.”

“I guess you’re right.”

Tallulah places a hand on Chayanne’s. Her dragon scales are stark against his human skin. Chayanne’s sometimes pondered the irony; how soft, musical Tallulah got the clawed scaly hands, while his remained human, left to callous as he fought. 

“We’ll be alright,” she insists. “Abuelito said so, and I trust him. You do too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then we’ll be alright. And while we wait, we’ll play with the others. It will be fun.”

Chayanne sighs, and smiles. “Yeah.”

“You better not sleep in the rest of the week. You didn’t let me when my papi left, so I won’t let you.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.”

Tallulah retracts her hand before spreading her arms. “Do you want a hug?”

Chayanne doesn’t hesitate. “Yeah.”

Tallulah leans forward and wraps Chayanne in a hug—being smaller, she doesn’t quite envelop him, but he still leans into the embrace, hugging her back. She squeezes comfortingly, though, and Chayanne is reminded of how strong she really is.

He then feels something bump against him. 

“Do you have something in your coat?”

When she pulls away, Tallulah’s eyes are suddenly wide. “Oh right, it’s something Abuelito gave me before he left.” Something dark clouds her eyes. “Do you want to see?”

Chayanne perks up. “What is it?”

Out of her coat, Tallulah produces an avocado. It’s slightly bruised. Chayanne laughs.

“An avocado?”

“Yeah.”

The disappointed look on Tallulah’s face makes Chayanne laugh again. 

“That’s Dad for you. You have to eat it now, to cherish his memory!”

“Actually, since it’s so important, I think I won’t.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Want me to make it into something?”

“Please do. As long as it isn’t avocado toast.”

[chaisshitposts]

hi chai i hope you don’t mind this ask as i feel this might come as unwanted advice that can seem somewhat pessimistic to some so i apologise in advance but i mean no harm.

I am only trying to help and wish i’d known this right when i started to “manifest” or enter the void, and also as someone who’s been on loablr since 2021 and have read possibly every single success story that exists on here, here are some things to keep in mind:

there are many people that did the 10k affirmation challenge and didn’t end up getting their desires, why? cause they most certainly affirmed 10K times for their desires (while it’s proven scientifically to work)

but still happened to fail, cause they most probably thought against their desires; which was the strongest argument the states girlies used to have.

REMEMBER: you cannot be two things at once, you either have it or you don’t so which side are you on through the day and as you fall asleep?

(i mention the falling asleep bit cause i personally felt anxious at times going to sleep knowing i am still not where i want to be so if you’re doing the same thing, please stop. That’s the state you’re falling asleep to😭 it’s doing you no good😭)

(also i am not siding with any method, all methods work)

lesson learnt from this: nothing matters if you’re not strict with your mental diet, your 4D, your imagination.

(I’m not saying you have to suppress your feelings cause that can’t be good)

@moonbakeries used to vent for as long as she liked but made sure to persist in her 4D and she changed her life. please go through her blog to understand this better.

when i see people being consistent for weeks on here doing everything right and coming you to update (i love to see the discipline) but can’t help and wonder if they are persistent with their new story throughout

because i have been in their shoes before and had little to no success. (and as i follow you i can’t help but be reminded of my own failure cause i’ve been there before and the burnout isn’t pretty.)

I appreciate your support to all of your followers. I mean no offence to anyone but i really think i had to come out of my lurking bubble and let my mistake be known loud and clear so that others don’t make the same mistake as I did.

I feel like if we all delete tumblr, strictly only persist in our 4D for a week straight, we all would be living our dream lives.

Proof: rae’s death revision success story @itsravenbitch

@moonbakeries dream life success story

time taken? seven days.

DISCLAIMER:

i know we are all different and we shouldn’t think of time as a relative thing cause it’s literally not real. so obviously don’t think of seven days as a deadline (silly of me to mention it now after saying all that lol but you get the point)

if you fall in love with your imagination, you won’t care about time and the 3D (i know it’s hard with circumstances which is why i still haven’t personally succeeded) but please try. It will change your life.

Reminds me of another success story (anonymous) they changed their gender just by identifying as their ideal gender. I cannot remember if it was ftm or mtf i’m sorry but whenever someone mentioned/referred to them as their older gender, they literally didn’t care cause they knew the were their ideal gender and one day, they woke up to being their desired gender. That’s all it took.

the most common takeaway from all success stories is: BELIEVE, TRUST, HAVE FAITH.

(yes, doubts are common)

@moonbakeries mentioned it too, people that entered the void had doubts too but managed to persist, @gorgeouslypink also doubted the void till the moment she entered herself but still entered the void.

BUT CONTINUE TO PERSIST

The 3D (notice how i say “the” and not “your” cause it’s not yours) is none of your business.

Your 4D (imagination) is the real deal. Just like day is followed by the night, your imagination has to show up too, no matter what. let this sink in please.

I know discipline matters, please continue to do what you’re doing if it helps you stay consistent with your new story but actively make sure to persist in your new story, your FAV story. it’s so so crucial. That’s all!

I really want to be off anon but not sure how this message would be taken so i choose to stay anonymous lol

sending love to all!

thank you for your words of wisdom and motivation, I appreciate the strength it took to write this. I know that this will certainly be a wake up call to many.

[inkstone-dragon]

sorry, i’m gonna need a drink carrier for this one! cinnamon latte, vanilla chai, strawberry milk, hibiscus tea, aaand almond milk.

cinnamon latte— would you ever want to dye your hair? if you have before, what color was it and why?

I actually tried once! I was going for a reddish-brown, but it didn't stick well and mostly washed out anyway. My friends said that happened with the first one, but I never bothered to try again. I've thought about it again, for a nice reddish tint to it.

vanilla chai— do you have any hobbies that your followers don’t know about? or any hobbies that you once had, but stopped doing?

The first one I never really bring up is my embroidery and cross-stitching. I haven't done it as much lately, only in nibbles here and there, but it is a hobby that is gonna stay with me. I love it so much, and it makes so many pretty things!

strawberry milk— what’s your way of showing someone you love them, platonically or romantically?

If I had to pick one way of expressing love for the people around me I'd say just being there to help and helping without asking why. I want to be reliable and loyal because that, to me, is such a love-borne action. It's a choice rooted in devotion and I like that.

hibiscus tea— how often do you stay up all night instead of sleeping? what was the reason you stayed up all night?

These days I really can't stay up all night, I work so I've gotta be up at an honest hour. But sometimes I do stay up a little extra on accident, just having fun with pals over a vc on Discord. I like spending time with my friends, so it's easy to get lost in time.

almond milk— would you ever want to plan a road trip with friends? or would you rather visit one area and enjoy what’s there?

Oh I'd go nuts for a road trip with pals! Just driving and seeing things and hanging out and taking tons of videos and photos to remember the whole experience by. It'd be hard, given how most of my friends live away from me, but one day it'd be nice!

[anantgunesh]

ACCHA SAAB... JAI SHREE MAHAKAL

In a constant search for an excellent place to eat, we kept moving and went past the city toll. The last day of 2022, having no party plans, no farmhouse invites, no daaru congregate, and our lazy ass are in no mood to explore even. Deepesh and I kept wandering around to find a less crowded place, have dinner and feel good about the last night of this year. 

We stopped by a place named Atithi Dhaba. Chose to have our seats in the lawn area and pulled the fire stand a little closer to our table, ordering a soup and Paneer tikka.

Celebrated the year’s first 0000 hrs with a gentle handshake and a vivid laugh.

Hi readers, I'm Anant Gunesh. Welcome to my Public Diary, where I'll write and you'll feel. This time I hope to inspire you a little with my brief encounter. Let's dive deep and see what happens next after the handshake.

Around 1 o'clock, we were waiting for our last order, a masala chai. We were nearing departing, so we stood beside our table and started warming our hands on the fire stand. As we were sharing some light talks, two people came near us and stood at a distance to feel the warmth of the fire. Quietly we welcomed and made room for them to join us.

We didn't care much about their presence until, some time afterwards, I saw the hands of the one standing next to me. In the middle of our talks, I noticed his widely opened hands next to mine on the fire stand, swollen and worn out like a stretched and crumbled canvas, yet having the strength to break a stack of bricks. But yes, along with the power, the texture looked very old. Old and experienced, I should say. After a couple of seconds, Deepesh also noticed the same. We both were a little amazed.

I looked up at the face to discover the gentleman, but he was busy warming his cold hands, wearing an old muddy coat along with a muffler wrapped around his face and eyes looking straight into the burning fire. The shining wrinkles on his face depicted him as an old man, probably around 70 or so, and his counterpart looked a bit younger than him.

The old man looks a bit mysterious.

Amidst this, our chai came, and we both took our seats. The younger one left the place on someone calling him, and the old one hesitantly stood. I eagerly requested him to sit with us and make himself comfortable, to which he nodded and sat with us without lifting his head. I tried to glance at his face, but the clothes and shadows covering his face didn't allow me to. Deepesh and I kept talking while sipping our tea. In between, we kept noticing him quietly, and he probably liked to keep himself unidentified.

Yaar, who is this?

Wanting to learn his look and know him, I decided to break the barrier and start a conversation by asking him from which place he belonged.

Without removing his hands from the fire stand, he looked up for the first time in 2023 and uttered with a clear voice, "Bangarda". I was taken aback for a second. His left eye had a sharp cloudy appearance, which gave the idea that he was blinded by one eye. I instantly felt sorry for him and couldn’t hear what he just said. After asking him to repeat, he said a bit loudly, this time with a more transparent and heavy voice, "Bangarda saab, Dewas ke paas". And he asked us our place, to which we replied Ujjain. He looked down again, and we continued our sips.

His attire and appearance resembled that of a Kisan. "What work do you do?" I gently asked. Now taking a break from the fire stand and removing his muffler, he looked finally ready to have a conversation.

He replied that he and his counterpart wash utensils here at the dhaba, and now that his work is finished, he's waiting for the owner to pay them and drop them off to Ujjain, where they shall sleep.

So he lives somewhere else, works somewhere else, and sleeps in a different city.

Deepesh, now interested in the conversation, pulled his chair close to the fire stand and asked him why he went to Ujjain to sleep. He said his village from here is about 30 km afar, and in this chilling cold, he can't sleep on the freezing tiles of the dhaba. The temperature here at night falls rapidly, and it gets challenging for him to spend the night here.

I thought this village was nearby, and wait, did he just mean he sleeps on the floor !!.

"At 2'o clock, I, along with 3 others, get deported to Ujjain by our owner in his transport vehicle". "There, we borrow blankets from the Chamunda Mata mandir trust and sleep around 3 am at the railway station near the waiting area. Because you know those tiles are a little less cold."

Astonishingly I asked, “When do you wake up then?” “6’o clock”. “What, only 3 hours of sleep? “It’s the most we can have because at 6, the station police wake us up as the floor cleaning work takes place, and at 7, we’re supposed to return our blankets. At 9:30, we’re brought back here for work.”

I could only imagine 14 hours of work and 3 hours of sleep.

By the way, in between his talks, I noticed that he tends to speak very clearly. I assumed that he might not be consuming any bidis or cigarettes. Well, who knows!

Sadly, many labourers and daily wage workers like him get addicted to these things, despite earning significantly less.

“I’ve been working here for almost 2 years now. Right before Covid, I used to work on a farm in my village. Till that time, I had earned enough to take a farm in partnership with my neighbours. I had a 30% share in the earnings from its produce. Until the insurgence of Covid, we used to do quite well. During Covid, we suffered a huge loss in vegetable production. There was a situation when we had to give all of our rotten produce to the dogs and cows”.

His pain was visible.

He continued - “After that, I was pressurized and removed from the partnership, which made us even more helpless. Amidst all this, my son and his wife started abusing us and used to beat us at times after drinking.” Deepesh and I were appalled.

His voice shivered, and his eyes got filled with tears when he said- "I resisted his actions, and he threw us out of our house. We then slept on the streets for almost 3 months. No roof and no work.

He took a pause after that and wiped his tears.

My life hardships don’t stand anywhere near his.

"Would you like to have anything else, sir? - the waiter arrived. Deepesh ordered tea for the old man. I leaned forward and gently offered him something to eat. He gratefully refused our offer and agreed to the tea.

We had no words and were left entirely numb. “You’re a lot braver than you think. – Hermione Granger, Harry Potter. He took a deep breath and said with a gig- “Saab, the only addiction I have is chai, and I never refuse it if offered, but I don’t drink daaru or bidi and never consumed tobacco.”

“I can’t afford to have these because I’m the only support of my wife. She can’t live without me, saab.” “Where do you live in your village now?” I asked. “There’s no place like home. – The Wizard of Oz” “Under a scheme, the street beggars were given huts to live in by the panchayat. My wife lives there, and whenever there’s work required on someone’s farm or any household chores, she goes there on work.”

“Once in 15 days, I go to my village and hand over half of my earnings to my wife.”

“What’syour name, dada”- I asked. “Sukhram Patel, khati samaj.” “How much do you earn here?” "I make 400/- per day. And now, due to the visitors at Mahakal Lok, there is a constant rush at this dhaba".

No wonder why his hands are swollen.

He took the last sip of his tea and said- “I’m happy here, saab. However, I keep looking for better opportunities in other places. I want to earn better, and I can work as hard as required.

“Wash the remaining ones, baba. Show some speed. We’re closed,” - the owner yelled from the counter.

“Ji Maalik”, he replied and took all three cups from the table and silently left the fireplace. As he got up and started walking, we discovered he was lame in one leg. With his slow, uneven steps, he continued to walk. “Get busy living, or get busy dying – Andy Dufresne, The Shawshank Redemption.”

After a few seconds, we both got up and paid the bill at the counter.

I want to see him one last time.

As we came out, he was waiting for us at the door. He smiled and joined his hands in gratefulness. We came closer and joined hands. Deepesh took out his wallet and gave him Rs. 500/-, to which he immediately refused and signalled to keep it back. We insisted strongly, but he was firm.

With joined hands, he only said, “I just want to work, else god shall give.” “If you ever find a better opportunity for me in the city, please let me know”. He said he didn’t have a phone and gave us his owner’s number. “Saab, please contact this number if you find any better work for me, and I shall be there at your service.”

The transport vehicle came, and all the other labourers rushed toward it. The old man joined his hands once again and, with an endearing smile, took our leave. “ACCHA SAAB… JAI SHRI MAHAKAL”. “That’s the beauty of life, Tony. It’s hard, it’s scary, and it’s confusing. And it’s absolutely beautiful. – Ultron”

Anant Gunesh. 13.02.2023

[frogtanii]

a soft jazz melody buzzed over your group’s heads as you entered craft los angeles, the pretty hanging lights casting a warm glow over your deep red suit.

the restaurant was lovely, as expected, and also very very full. scanning the dining room, you were surprised yachi had even managed to get a table at all but apparently management pulled some strings to make this all possible.

a little drop of anger pooled in your gut at the thought. the higher ups had the funds to allow the house to go to an impromptu fancy (and extremely expensive!!!) dinner but they wouldn’t give you the time of day when you were sending them letters and emails, appealing for equal pay.

“hey,” kuroo’s soft, baritone voice sounded from beside you, nearly scaring you out of your skin. “are you alright?” your first thought was to just say you were fine but dr yamada’s words rang throughout your skull, unprompted.

take a moment, assess how you feel, and only then do you share. if you don’t want to, then don’t but don’t lie either. it doesn’t do you or anyone else any good. i hope you’re actually listening brat, this is important.

you mentally rolled your eyes at the old memory. you were so combative back in highschool, never really understanding the purpose or benefits of therapy so you used to battle yamada at every turn. as time went on, his badgering and sarcastic nature pierced through your walls and the rest was pretty much history.

“yn?” a quick glance back at kuroo revealed the open concern written all over his face at your silence, his hand hovering over your shoulder as though he’d been reaching out for you but stopped himself. once he caught you looking, he quickly dropped his arm and shoved it into the pocket of his slacks while averting his eyes in embarrassment.

“sorry, i was just thinking about something negative. i’ll be okay though!” you responded with a small smile, internally cheering when the hostess came by to seat everyone before you could hear his response.

the beautiful hostess brought the group to a large table near the back, handing out the menus before telling you who your waiter was going to be and disappearing. you chose a chair near the end, swiftly flanked by atsumu and kuroo. sakusa, bokuto and oikawa took the seats across from you and everyone else filled in accordingly.

a pang of sadness shot through your heart as you watched kenma sit the furthest away from you next to yachi and osamu. you’d promised yourself that you would give him time but... how long would it take? what if he never came around? did he even want to be friends with you anymore?

your depressing thoughts were broken by the waiter entering and taking everyone’s orders. you couldn’t help but wince at all the prices on the menu ($60 steak!!!), but you took a bit of comfort in the fact it was all coming out of upper management’s wallet.

it took a moment for everyone’s courses to come out, but once they did, everyone dug in. the table would be mostly silent if it weren’t for the occasional quips from sugawara and oikawa but otherwise, a feeling of awkwardness blanketed over the group.

the blame for the uncomfortable atmosphere could very easily be attributed to meiko’s presence. she sat by yachi, clad in a lime green bodycon dress and black strappy heels, her outfit in stark contrast to everyone else’s more classy options.

when the waiter had come around earlier, she refused to order any real food, instead opting for bottomless champagne, her request causing sugawara to tense up at the opposite end of the table. before you could say anything to him, sakusa leaned over to whisper something that had him relaxing back into his seat.

you couldn’t have kept yourself from smiling if you tried.

anyway, time seemed to fly, and even under the oppressive discomfort of the room, you still managed to share a few laughs with your seat mates over the incredible food.

somewhere in between polishing off your main course and waiting for dessert, your bladder came calling your name. “hey,” you called to atsumu, his attention immediately snapping up to you in concern. “gotta go to the bathroom.” he gave you a nod and a sweet smile as you stood and maneuvered yourself to the small hallway leading to the women’s restroom.

the bathroom was silent when you entered as you quickly scurried into one of the suspiciously clean stalls to relieve yourself. a squeak signaled the door opening but whoever arrived remained at the mirror, not bothering to venture any further. you continued on your business before leaving the stall only to come face to face with...

meiko.

“oh, i was wondering when you were going to come out,” she grinned, false saccharine sweetness dripping from her words. she stood leaning against the sink counter, preventing you from washing your hands.

you barely kept yourself from rolling your eyes, moving forward to get to the sink. “wow, it’s so lovely to see you too! now, do you mind?” your patronizing tone apparently didn’t sit right with meiko because in an instant, she was on you, one of her hands wrapped around your throat.

frozen. you were frozen in place, muscles locked and unable to fight back like you knew you were capable of. somehow, this time, your fear and anxiety gripped you, keeping you still as her acrylic nails dug in and pierced your skin.

“stay away from what’s mine or this will be so, so much worse,” meiko sneered into your ear, giggling maniacally at your short, choked breaths. with you so out of commission, she dared to tighten her grip, your eyes rolling back into your head as your hands shot out to weakly fight against her hold. she studied your trembling expression for just a moment longer before letting go, allowing you to slide down to the floor as you scrambled for air.

your vision was swimming but you managed to catch meiko giving you a cheeky little wave as she exited the bathroom, the door making a loud bang as she left.

black crept up on the edges of your vision, the sheer amount of energy it took to keep yourself conscious quickly dwindling. thoughts drifted aimlessly through your head as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier.

did the boys even notice you were gone? did they even care? what if no one came to find you and you were left to die on the floor of this beautiful restaurant? what coffin would they pick out for your funeral? what music would they play? how many people would be in attendance? would anyone even come at alll?

at that, the darkness finally won over, dragging you down into a deep, dreamless sleep.

℗ poker face

frozen

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - :O wowieee a little bit of a wild one — i wanna hear what y’all think hehe don’t forget to feed me <333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[hintofelation99]

Sick day headcannons!!!!!!!

Hell yeah, I do have a post on this already (linked here) but sick day headcanons are some of my favs so let’s do some more! (Just btw there will be some repeats but that just means I rlly like that headcanon)

Dick

Dick: Oh no, god no!

Wally: What’s wrong?!

Dick: I’m dying!

Wally, suspicious: Okay…

Dick: Please Wally this is serious, I need help!

Wally, deciding to take Dick seriously: Okay, what’s wrong? What do you need?

Dick: Just a coffin. Made of maple- no oak! And roses, preferably white, oh or blue! With baby’s breath. And-

Wally: Dick, what’s wrong?!

Dick: I burnt the roof of my mouth.

Wally leaves.

A good rule of thumb for Dick is the more dramatic he is the less serious the situation. The less dramatic he is the more serious the situation.

He will go into work with a cold and complain the entire day.

If he has something serious that’s contagious he’ll call in sick but just say it’s a slight stomach bug.

If it’s not contagious he will act like everything is completely fine.

One time he did this after getting an injury on patrol and ended up passing out and spending that night and the next day in the ICU.

He has become a bit more responsible over the years, mainly bc he thinks it’s adorable how sweet and cuddly Damian gets.

His favorite sick day activity is eating junk food and watching rom coms under a fuzzy blanket .

Babs

Dick: Please go to bed!

Babs: I am, I am, just one more line of code.

Dick: You’ve said that for the last three hours!

Babs tries to relax when sick but she has trouble actually taking a step back to rest.

Most of the time she’ll take a nightquil then get distracted by something and ends up falling asleep in front of her screen.

Usually Cass or Steph will come over and take care of her.

Steph always makes the best comfort food. And usually Cass will tuck Babs into bed.

Babs loves dozing on the couch to the sound of Cass and Steph laughing in the kitchen as they make her soup.

If Cass and Steph can’t come over she loves talking to them over discord while eating take out. Usually she and Cass just listen to Steph babble or she watches on of them stream something.

She also usually ends up falling asleep.

Jason

Bruce: Are you sick?

Jason: I’m legally dead.

Bruce: That doesn’t-

Jason: So,legally, no. I am not sick.

Jason will forever and always argue that he can’t get sick since he already died.

When he was little he was rarely able to get extra rest when he was sick. Because when he was really little he wanted to go to school to avoid Willis. After Catherine died he was too busy just trying to survive to focus on being healthy.

But when Catherine was alive and Willis was away Jason would stay home from school, and if Catherine was sober she would read to him and sing lullabies. This only happened like twice but Jason cherishes those memories of Catherine.

As a kid if he was ever sent home for being sick he’d get in huge trouble with Willis.

After being adopted the first time he was sent home with a fever he begged Alfred not to tell Bruce and hid in his closet until he stopped crying being sad. Alfred sat by the closet door with soup, a grilled cheese, and tea, reading The Princess Bride aloud until Jason came out. It took two hours.

Jason’s favorite sick day activity is drinking tea and rereading The Princess Bride (with the movie playing quietly in the background) while wearing his Wonder Woman hoodie.

Cass

Steph: Cass why are you patrolling while sick?!

Cass shrugs.

Steph, with a sigh: You’re allowed to take a sick day, okay?

Cass looks unsure but nods.

Steph: C’mon, let’s get you a bath and fuzzy blankets.

Cass forgets that she’s not just a weapon/tool. She forgets that she’s allowed to rest when sick.

Because of this she will keep going no matter what and tends to view ‘taking a sick day’ as a failure.

Steph, Tim, and Babs have been working on this with her. She’s improved a lot now that Tim lost his spleen and gets sick easily.

Now usually Steph cooks for her while Babs lays with her.

Cass isn’t against taking medicine but she never feels like the situation is severe enough to require medication. So someone in the fam has to convince her to take her meds.

She becomes extremely cuddly when sick and will cling to anyone near her.

Her favorite sick day activity is watching old horror movies with Steph or Babs.

Steph

Steph: I’m fine.

Steph: I’m fine.

Steph: I’m fine.

Steph: I’m- I have a fever of 104, I should rest.

Stephs mom is a doctor, so she’s used to being told “it’s just a cold, you’re fine”.

Usually she keeps going until she can’t then sleeps for like three days.

But it’s less out of stubbornness and more out of habit. So if someone tells her to rest she’s immediately like “okay!” and takes the sick day.

Babs always calls or comes over to check on her every day that she’s sick.

Cass has been learning how to cook and loves making Steph food when she’s sick.

Tim used to come over but now he always calls.

Stephs favorite sick day activity is sleeping with an ice pack or heating pad, depending on the sickness, with a giant cup of ginger ale and Cass curled up beside her.

Tim

Jason: Tim, are you sick?

Tim, tiredly staring at case files: No I-

Tim is interrupted by a violent coughing fit.

Tim: Oh, I guess I am?

Growing up Tim loved getting sick because it meant the house keeper would come over and take care of him and he might even get a hug.

But she stopped coming over when Tim was ten, his parents thought he was old enough to handle being sick on his own.

Sick days in the manor were a shock to him because he was rarely alone, there was always one family member by his side.

Now that he’s immunocompromised he’s always surrounded by people, he pretends to get annoyed with it but really he loves how much they care.

Dick always sings Romani lullabies and runs his fingers through Tim’s hair. Jason, Duke, and Steph will cook for him. Damian stay by his side and bring him tea. Babs will play video games with him. And Cass does a bit of everything, at least everything other than sing to him.

The family also takes Tim getting sick very seriously so if they here one cough he’s immediately being interrogated and getting his temperature checked.

Tim’s favorite sick day activity is laying under a weighted blanket with a cup of tea and playing video games with Babs, Steph, Duke, and Cass.

Duke

Dick, knocking on Duke’s door: Hey bud, why are you still in bed? I thought we were training together?

Duke: Sorry, I forgot to cancel. I’m sick and don’t think I can handle training today.

Dick: You’re sick?!

Duke: Yeah, but don’t worry I’ve been disinfecting and cleaning so no one else should get sick.

Dick: I’m not worried about getting sick, I’m worried about you!

Duke: …oh, okay.

Growing up sick days were spent at home either resting alone or with one of his parents.

He had to do some fending for himself (like cleaning and making food when his parents weren’t home with him) but nothing extreme or unexpected. So, overall he had pretty normal sick days.

After he parents went missing he was so focused on getting them back and saving them that he never stopped to rest when sick.

Now as a member of the Wayne family his sick days are always spent with someone by his side, at least they are if he tells the family he’s sick.

He’s gotten in trouble several times for not telling Alfred/the family that’s he’s sick. Not because he puts Tim at risk, he like all the family is very cautious about that, but because everyone worries about him and wants to help take care of him.

After several lectures from Alfred he’s finally getting better about telling the family when he’s sick.

His favorite sick day activity is reading Jason’s copy of The Princess Bride while having a bowl of Alfred’s chicken noodle soup.

Damian

Jason: Are you sick?

Damian: N-

Damian sneezes like a kitten.

Damian: No.

Cass, smiling: Sick baby brother, cute sneeze.

Damian tries to be offended but ends up having a sneezing fit.

Steph: That’s so adorable!!

Damian has the most adorable sneezes. He literally sounds like a kitten and the entire family and hero community finds it adorable. Damian hates it.

He used to try and pretend he wasn’t sick and just work through it.

Then he sneezes in front of Harley and Ivy and they cooed over him for an hour.

Now he grumpily secluded himself in his room when sick.

Usually the family will check on him and find that Jon flew over and they’re cuddling on his bed watching cartoons.

When Damian’s sick he really craves spicy food. Like everything he eats he’ll add hot sauce or pepper to. His food is so spicy that only Cass can handle it, like it makes ghost peppers look like child’s play.

His favorite sick day activity is drinking masala chai under one of Tim’s fuzzy blankets while wearing Dick’s old hoodies and surrounding himself with various soft things he stole from his siblings. This is preferably done while eating spicy tomato or lentil soup and watching cartoons with Jon.

[strangerivy]

Confessions in the Snow

Summary:  The first winter for Levi and Y/n on the surface and in the corps. A misstep in the training course reminds Levi of how easily it could be to loose you. Warnings: Swearing | Spoilers! for OVA No Regrets Pairings: Levi Ackerman x Reader (y/n) Genre: 18+ | Fluff | Tiny Angst Word Count: 3.7k Author’s Note: Let me know what you guys think! and if anyone wants to be tagged in future Levi fic’s just let me know and I’ll start a taglist 😊 💜

|| Masterlist | AOT Masterlist ||

Year 844 - Winter

It was your first winter on the surface and you so far were not a fan. It was cold all the time, you were starting to forget what it felt like to be warm. You were laying in your bunk now the blanket pulled tight around you, but you were still shaking from the cold.

You heard a heavy sigh from behind you and then some footsteps coming towards you stopping right at the side of your bed. You turned your head to look behind you to see an annoyed Levi staring down at you.

“You can’t be seriously that cold,” He stated, and you shot a glare up at him

“I’m sorry I’m not cold-blooded like you,” You spat turning back over pulling the covers tighter trying to stop from shaking but it only lasts a second before it started up again. He clicked his tongue pulling the covers completely off you, causing you to start shivering even more legs pulled to your chest as you tried to preserve what little heat was left. 

“What the hell Levi!” You yelled sitting up ready for a fight, he looked at you with a bored expression.

“You can sleep with me tonight if you’re that cold,” He said walking towards the door to head to the men’s barracks, you quickly shot up scrabbling out of your bunk grabbing your cloak since you were only in a nightshirt and shorts. Which was probably one of the reasons you were cold but you refused to sleep in pants, they made you feel too constricted to sleep. You caught up to Levi pulling your cloak tight as you walked down the hall.

“Are you sure?” You asked shyly your voice coming out smaller than you intended, he looked back over at you with gentle eyes giving a small nod before opening the door to the men’s barracks it was quiet except for the sound of snores. You scurried over quietly to Levi’s bunk at the end of the room climbing into the blanket. You heard a small scoff and peaked up from the blankets to see Levi shaking his head at you, a small smile on his lips. This made you smile, he looked so nice when he smiled. You wished he would do it more often.

He laid out your blanket on top of his for extra warmth before telling you to scoot more, climbing into bed wrapping an arm under you pulling you close to his chest making you freeze up. Eyes wide with nerves.

This wasn’t the first time you two had cuddled, but this was the first time you both were doing it consciously. Of course, when you had slept in the same bed in the underground you had woken up countless mornings wrapped in each other’s arms. You used him more as a pillow than the pillow that was there. You had offered on multiple occasions to get another bed, but he always said it was a waste and to not bother.

Furlan would go on to tell you that Levi never slept in the bed until you had come around from that first night. You smiled softly at the memory as it passed through your mind closing your eyes. You rolled over so that you were now facing Levi, his other armed draped across you.

You took a deep breath trying to relax your nerves, snuggling more into the pillow. You felt a gaze on you that had you open your eyes, he was looking at you with a gentle gaze, the hand draped across you rubbing small circles on your back. You don’t know how long you two looked at each other like that like there was so much more between you than what was shown. Like you meant everything to him. You fought to keep your eyes open and he noticed another small but rare smile gracing his lips. One that only seemed to be reserved for you.

“Go to sleep, Y/N,” He whispered pulling you closer to him, you let out a small quiet yawn your eyes slowly closing.

“Levi,” You mumbled, he hummed in response, you tried to open your eyes to look at him before muttering a small thanks. You felt his chest vibrate for a second and then the faintest feel of his lips on your forehead and the small sound of something leaving his lips but sleep was already taking you to hear what it was.

Your ear twitched as you picked up on something in the room, you let out a groan snuggling further into the blanket. It was so warm you weren’t ready to get up. The blanket shifted under you. Wait, blankets don’t move. Your eyes slow open blinking sleep out of your eyes. You gazed up at a sleeping Levi without moving to not give away that you were awake to the guest in the room.

“Honestly, I wish they would just admit it to each other already, I mean look at them!” Your eyes widen as you realized you two were no longer alone in your barracks. “Plus, it would probably soften up shorty over there,” You recognized the voice as Hange, you felt Levi shift under you and that is when you realized the position you were also in. Your leg was draped completely over Levi and his hand had found its way up the back of your shirt hugging you close to him. The blanket that was once pulled tight around you two was now at your waist being pushed down at some point in the night.

Levi shifted under you and you glanced up seeing his eyes flutter open before instantly going into a cold glare once he was fully awake.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked clearly annoyed by Hange’s presence and whoever was with her.

“Just coming to get you two lovebirds for training, and to remind you that she isn’t supposed to be sleeping in the men’s barracks, but I know you won’t listen,” She said cheerfully not even phased by Levi’s cold tone. “Make sure to wear your jackets, we got some snow last night.” You went to sit up a rush of excitement running through you, never having seen snow before only reading about it in the few books you had collected down in the Underground, but Levi was quick to pull you back down covering you up with the blankets.

“Out.” He demanded with a stern voice, Hange grinned with a chuckle before leaving you two alone to get ready for the day. You sat up quickly once the door was shut and you heard no one else in the room everyone already going on with their business for the day.

You raced over to the window looking out hands on the windowsill as you bounce on your toes out of excitement to see the white snow outside. You let out a soft wow as you looked out the window. The trees covered in the stuff, little pillows of snow covering each branch. You felt Levi grab your arm spinning you around while putting your cloak on you then turning you to face towards the door.

“Go get ready,” He demanded not having any of your bright energy this morning. You let out a chuckle as you went out the door and down the hall to women’s barracks going to your bed getting changed into your uniform.

You were getting your boots on when Levi appeared at the other end of the room leaned up against the door frame all set for training this morning. You buckled your boot getting up grabbing your clock putting it on as you walked towards him with a bright smile. You walked side by side down the hall.

“I hope you know I won’t be slowing down for you because of the weather,” He informed you, keeping his eyes straight ahead before opening the door for you. You sucked in a breath when the winter air hit you, but you were completely mesmerized by your surroundings the snow-covered ground and trees, looking through the frosted window did not do it justice.

A chill ran up your spin that you shook off as you adjusted to the cold, “You're just mad because I beat you the last time at the obstacle course,” You gloated giving a toothy smirk as he let out an unamused scoff before heading towards the training grounds with the snow crunching under your boots. You noticed that even though there were people out and about around HQ it seemed oddly quiet for it. A peaceful quiet that you had never really thought possible.

“That’s because I didn’t let you win, you would have thrown a tantrum like a child,” He said coolly making you frown.

“Would not,” You protested making his lip move into a smirk “Don’t be such a sore loser,” that’s when you got an idea which he was quick to notice the mischievous glint in your eye,raising an eyebrow at you curiously knowing this would not bow well for him. “Why don’t we make a bet?” you suggested, I mean there is nothing wrong with healthy competition when training for life and death scenarios, right?

“What do I get?” He asked as we reached the forest training ground getting our ODM gear ready. He helped you adjust the straps so that the gear sat better.

“The winner buys the other a box of their favorite tea?” You suggested and his eyebrow went up curiously, you looked up and saw Hange giving you the signal to get ready, Mike, getting ready to follow you two to observe though it wasn’t really needed, you both proving to be a skilled duo.

“I’m not buying you a box of chai,” Levi deadpanned, getting into position, you gave a small smirk.

“So, you’re saying I’m going to beat you?” You smirked

“Tch not a chance,” Hange could see you were both in a competitive mood and looked at the two of you gleefully to see what kind of maneuvers she would see from the two of you today while Mike looked slightly annoyed at the idea of having to keep up with the two of you.

“Alright you two we are almost reset,” She announced waiting for the signal from a Scout in the forest, you and Levi both waiting ready to go the second you saw the signal, and when you did you both were gone before she could even tell you to go a loud squeal of excitement as you two flew off.

The air was crisp as you flew through the trees, goosebumps forming all along your skin, but you didn’t let that slow you down, moving faster from tree to tree. You twisted and turned through them with ease making sure to keep your eyes open for the wooden titans to appear.

A fake titan appeared in front of you as you maneuvered out of a path of a tree and you gracefully bounced off of a trunk of tree going higher into the air flipping upside down dragging your blades deep into the fake nap cutting out a more than deep enough cut to kill. You flipped back up with missing a beat moving on.

“Careful Y/N, you'll dull your blades before we’ve even started,” You heard Levi mock somewhere in the trees, you continued through the trees another titan appearing on your right but before you could make your move Levi came out of nowhere just a quick flash of green.

You let out groan in frustration picking up your pace. Another Titan appeared on your right and you went for the kill but when you went to use a tree branch as a launch point you hit some ice on the branch losing your footing. You let out a small gasp as you lost control and began falling to the forest floor, you quickly caught yourself though sending out your grappling hooks pulling yourself back up just barely giving you enough time feeling your hair drag against the ground before swinging yourself back up in the air.

The last titan in the course showed up on your right and you couldn’t hear Levi anywhere and just as you were about to swing your blades for the kill, he flew past you taking the kill for himself. You grumbled to yourself as you reached the end of the course landing down on the ground.

“I didn’t even hear you!” You shouted walking up to him, he turned to face you with an annoyed look, “Where the hell did you even come from?”

“You need to be more careful,” He critiqued not even minding to address your question, you gave him a confused look.

"Yeah I didn't see the ice on that branch," You smiled at him but something was really bothering him with your slip up. He narrowed his eyes at you letting out an angered huff. 

"You would have been dead from that slip up you had," He spat

“What do you mean? We aren’t outside of the walls Levi,” You questioned him not sure why he was starting to grow this angry with you.

“That one misstep outside of these walls could cost you your life, y/n!” He snapped at you, he walked up to you anger fuming off him and that’s when you could see it in his eyes that this wasn’t about the slip you had. This was more than that. Mike moved on back to the start of the course noticing that you two were now fighting and did not want to get in the middle of it. “I am not about to lose you to the filthy beast outside of those walls! I can’t lose you!”

“Levi…” Your voice was quiet as you stood there unreactive to his anger as you stared at him with sad eyes the faces of Isabel and Furlan running through your mind. It hadn’t even been a year since you lost them. Levi hid his pain well. Until now it seems.

It had started to snow once again; you could see each breath of his coming out in heavy pants. You reached out quickly pulling him into a hug so he couldn’t reject it. He stiffened sucking in a breath at the sudden gesture so openly out her in public. You gripped onto his shirt snuggling into his chest, his arms slowly wrapping around you as he accepted the simple display of affection and comfort you offered. He pulled you tighter to him his head falling to your shoulder his breath tickling your neck.

“You’re not going to lose me, Levi,” You felt a tear fall from your eye, your hand traveling up weaving your fingers into his hair holding his head, “I promise I’ll always find a way back,” You whispered, you felt him grip you tighter at your words.  You both stood there holding one another quietly as the snow fell.

"Do you think they would have liked the snow?" You whispered to him, he let out a small scoff

"Isabel would probably be as excited as you were this morning, I can't imagine we would get anything done," He muttered fondly to you as you both thought of your two dear friends.

Levi pulled away just enough to look into your eyes his hand reach up and rubbing your cold and reddened cheeks from the winter air. You felt the familiar butterflies in your stomach that you always felt when you were together like this that you always managed to push aside but it was getting hard each passing day especially after that day when it became just the two of you left.

He had been growing more and more affection over the past couple of months leaving you completely confused on what his intentions were. You thanked god it was cold out to hide the blush on your cheeks as he looked at you. He leaned forward leaving a small kiss to your forehead.

“Ohhhh loovvvebirds!” Your eyes went wide at the sound of Hanges voice, Levi, and you both pushed the other away feeling your cheeks heat up at being caught in such a state. You stared at the ground as you heard Hange get closer and closer.

“What the hell do you want four eyes?” Levi’s voice back to his unamused self, pretending as if Hange didn’t walk into something meant only for the two of you. You looked up to see her grinning widely as she looked at the two of you innocently.

“We are getting ready to just go over some maneuvers, hurry up!” She shouted from where she stood waving her arm wildly around for you two to follow, Moblit standing right beside her shaking his head amused by her.

“On our way!” You shouted back with a wave looking over at Levi with a smile. He clicked his tongue before starting to head towards the others with you in tow. The moment you and Levi shared already pushed aside, stored in the very back of your mind.

You dragged your feet back towards your bed ready to take off your uniform and gear for the day, Levi turning what was supposed to be a simple training into an all-day event after your little slip in the woods making sure you had it down by the end on how to spot where you should and should not land when there’s snow and ice out.

You changed into a simple shirt and pants putting on some shoes heading back out into the hall towards the mess hall. You spotted Levi at your usual table a tray of food next to him that was meant for you. Hange smiled as soon as she spotted you. You took your spot next to him starting to eat your food.

Hange was probably your closest friend in the Scouts besides Levi of course. You would spend most of your time that wasn’t with Levi with her, helping with her experiments when needed or helping her organized her very messy office so she could actually find notes she needed when she needed them instead of days or sometimes months later.

As soon as you settled into your seat, she actually started talking to you about the idea of trying to capture a Titan but that she couldn’t get the approval.

“I mean that has to be really risky, wouldn’t it?” You asked her taking a drink of water from your mug, Levi rolled his eyes and you elbowed him under the table to knock it off.

“Yeah, and unfortunately, I can’t think of a way to make it safer,” She sighed disappointedly staring out past you, you could see the gears turning in her head that never seemed to stop with her.

"Well," you started, taking a bit of bread "If there's anyone that can figure it out, its you"

The rest of the meal was quick, and you said goodnight getting up disposing of your tray and dishes before heading back to your bed, but as you, passed a window, you noticed it was snowing again. You decided to go up to the roof to watch for a while. You stopped by your bed to grab your cloak before heading up.

It was cold but it felt good and it was quiet. No one around to disturb your peace this late. You walked over to the ledge whipping off the snow to clear a spot for you to sit. You dangled your feet over the edge looking up at the sky watching the snowfall around you. Blinking softly as a few flakes hit your lashes.

You closed your eyes letting out a relaxed sigh until you felt a presence. You opened your eye to see Levi staring out into the world. He held two cups of tea in his hand, offering the closest one to you. You gladly took it taking a sip letting out a hum from the warmth that coursed through your body. Levi took a seat next to you falling into a comfortable silence between the two of you.

There was that feeling again, the one that started in your stomach and filled your chest whenever you were with him. So many years of pushing it aside, it was easy at first but now it felt almost impossible but somehow you still managed not wanting to ruin the friendship you had. He was, after all, all you had left and vice versa.

“What are you thinking about?” your head snapped to look at Levi, a faint blush on your cheek as you forgot he was right next to you for a moment.

“N-nothing,” You stuttered taking another sip of tea, Levi still stared at you with his intimidating look that was just his face but still, it made you nervous when he stared like that. When he released you weren’t going to let up, he hummed getting gup from his spot leaving you to your thoughts.

You thought he was already gone but then you felt him right behind you kneeled down so his head was right next to your ear making you freeze to the spot as you felt his breath on your neck small goosebumps appearing on your skin.

“Come on, before you freeze yourself to death,” He whispered sending a small shiver down your spine. You turned your head to face him and noticed just how close he was to you, so close you could feel his breath hit your lips. You couldn’t help but glance down at his lips swallowing nervously when you looked back up to his eyes.

“Okay,” Your voice so quiet that you weren’t sure anything really came out. The corner of his mouth moved slightly into a small smirk, he leaned into you and you couldn’t move letting out a small gasp when you felt his lips just on the corner of your mouth before it was quickly gone. His hand grabbing yours and guiding you back up and back inside as you stared at the ground to hide the deep blush on your cheeks. He really didn’t need anymore boost to his ego, at least for tonight.

[billiedeanhwrd]

I know that you never sleep

wilhemina venable x reader

summary: your girlfriend spends the morning with you as your insomnia keeps you awake

warnings: none rlly except mentions of insomnia

word count: 916

a/n: i started writing this around a month ago when i was struggling with sleeping more than usual & just recently finished it. I haven't been feeling inspired or motivated lately due to school stress and personal issues, so if this sucks i'm sorry <3

gif credits to @shootthemessenger

Waking up to an empty bed was nothing new for Wilhemina. More nights than not she'd roll over, her arm reaching out searchingly, only to find the space next to her empty. Most nights she'd find you in the living room, stretched out on the couch with a book in your lap or aimlessly pacing around the room until you felt like you were able to sleep.

Sometimes when you were too tired to focus on a book, however not tired enough to sleep, you resorted to tasks that made the redhead chuckle when she found you. Organizing the spice drawer alphabetically only being one example.

Tonight, after searching for you in your whole apartment, she found you sitting on the balcony. you were looking up at the sky, knees tucked under your chin and coffee mug in your hand. The stars were fading and the pink light of the morning was beginning to spread behind the clouds.

Mina carefully moved towards you, not wanting to startle you, but the soft sound of her cane thudding on your carpeted floors giving her presence away. You hastily turned your head in her direction, the baby deer look in your eyes practically making the red heat melt. You features relaxed when you realized it was your girlfriend and you greeted her with a sad smile.

"Can't sleep again, little one?", she asked sympathetically as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

You nodded, "I'm sorry if I woke you"

Wilhemina shook her head, "it's fine"

"What are you doing out here? I expected you to be organizing our refrigerator according to color", she joked.

You let out a sad sigh, "I already did that yesterday"

Silence settled between you two as she glanced down at your face. you were exhausted, mentally, and physically, the pale skin and the dark circles under your eyes worrying your lover.

"I'll make us some tea" she announced, turning around and heading to the kitchen.

The sound of her cane and lack of her presence next to you tore you from your zombie-like state. You shook your head and frowned, "us?"

"The least I can do is keep you company", she called out to you as she made her way to the water boiler.

You jumped up from your spot, following your girlfriend. "You don't have to do that, this is my problem, you should get some sleep", you tried to argue.

"Nonsense", she replied.

You took in a big breath and opened your mouth, ready to convince the redhead to go back to bed, however, the stern look on her face shushed you before you could even utter a word.

You nodded, forcing yourself to accept her kindness, something that wasn't particularly easy for you. Deciding to make yourself useful, you opened the kitchen cabinet, grabbing two mugs as Wilhemina was searching for the tea bags. As your girlfriend was pouring the boiling hot water into the mugs, you sneaked up on her from behind and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. Whispering a soft "thank you" in her ear, you took the mugs into your hand and brought them over to the living room, Wilhemina following behind you.

You stopped and turned your head to the redhead, eyes curiously wide, silently asking where you should take the tea. She pointed to the balcony. "let's watch the sunrise together, little one". You nodded hastily and walked out to the balcony, Wilhemina smiling at your natural submissiveness.

After setting down the mugs on the small table between the two garden chairs, you helped your girlfriend to make herself comfortable. Holding her hand and letting her rest her weight on your shoulder, she managed to sit down without barely any pain. She shot you a grateful smile and you took her cane, putting it somewhere safe where there was no risk of it falling down your balcony.

After sitting down yourself, you took your first sip of the tea and reveled in the taste of your favorite beverage.

You sighed, relaxing your body, "the tea is delicious, you know just how I like it".

Mina laughed at you while she cradled her tea, letting it warm her hands, "yes, chai tea with oat milk, not that hard to remember, dear"

You blushed, a warm feeling spreading through you, yet quite unsure if it was the tea or the love you had for your girlfriend.

Wilhemina called in sick for both of you that day, you wouldn't be able to work properly in the state you were in and she didn't want to leave your side. Most of the people who knew the stoic woman wouldn't've recognized this behavior from her, but you brought out the most genuine gentleness in her, and the only thing that felt intuitive for her at this moment was to stay by your side.

Weather-wise it was a typical summer morning, the comfortably high temperature feeling like a warm hug from nature. You laid your head on the redhead's shoulder and she brushed her lips against your forehead. You looked up at the woman you loved and whispered "thank you". She met your gratitude with a simple nod, accompanied by a loving smile as she extended her arm and placed it around you, goosebumps appearing under her touch. You both turned your heads back to the sunrise, beautiful colors painting the sky as you basked in the happiness that a simple and peaceful morning with your person could bring.

[the-bau-quinjet]

With you, he wants it all.

Part 2!! You can find all the info about why this is such a mess in Part 1! Also, I totally meant to post this earlier but Taylor Swift’s new album wrecked my plans. 

Summary: Reader is a famous singer with a murderous stalker. Spencer has to go undercover to protect her. 

warnings: mentions of murder, anxious reader, stalker

Word Count: 9972

The next time you wake up, the room is significantly brighter. You feel around in the cold bed, realizing Spencer isn’t there anymore. You have to force yourself to open your eyes to combat the overwhelming urge to roll over and sleep for another twelve hours. The clock reads 12:07. You can’t help but think you deserve more sleep as you force yourself into a sitting position. Once you finally sit up, you hear someone shuffling around, whispering in the other room. It’s too quiet to try to make out the voice, but you definitely heard something. Without too much thought, you quickly jump out of bed, grabbing the only thing you can find that even remotely resembles a weapon- the bible from the hotel drawer.

Slowly, you push the door open, getting ready to make a break for the door to the hallway at the first sign of danger. Remembering everything from yesterday has you on edge as you move toward the kitchen area, looking for anything out of place. You duck around the pillar separating the kitchen from the living room only to find it empty. As you finally let your guard down, you feel a hand on your shoulder. Without thinking, you turn around getting ready to slam the book into whoever is touching you.

 Spencer catches your arms before you hit him. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s just me. You’re safe.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, dropping the book and hugging Spencer.

 “I’m sorry! I just heard a noise and you weren’t in bed anymore and I wasn’t sure where you went and I wanted to make sure nobody else was in the room, but I-“

 “It’s okay. Just breathe.” Spencer is rubbing soothing circles on your back as you cling to him as if your life depends on it. A few minutes pass, before you calm down enough to pull out of the hug. You run a shaky hand through your hair, moving to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee.

 “I put the coffee on so you can grab some when it’s done. I’m going to get dressed so we can figure out where we want to go for inspiration today!” You wink at Spencer before heading back into the bedroom to shower and change. You throw on a pair of jeans and a light sweater after squeezing the extra water out of your hair. You like to let it dry naturally on days like this.

 You make your way back into the kitchen only to find Spencer has already changed into a navy and white plaid button down, khakis, and a navy cardigan. He is sitting at the table drinking his coffee when you enter the room. You immediately put the kettle on, reaching into the cabinet to pull out your tea collection.

 “No coffee for you?” Spencer asks, gesturing to the half full pot on the counter.

 “Oh, nope. Not for me. It’s only palatable if I add way to much sugar and then I get all antsy. I only have coffee if I have a really good reason to stay up.” You chuckle as you add the teabag to the mug you set on the counter. You sit on the counter, swinging your legs as you sip your tea.

 “So, where do you want to go?”

 “For what?” Spencer pretends to not know what you’re talking about.

 “It’s time to start writing silly!” You grin at his deer in a headlights expression. “Spencer, I told you not to worry. We are just looking for general ideas right now. Anything that could potentially lead to a song. It’s more fun to observe others during this part of the process because the ideas are less specific.”

 “I don’t even know where to start!” He actually seems nervous about this.

 “Spence, let’s just go to your favorite coffee shop. And don’t tell me that you don’t have one. You’ve already drunk half that pot of coffee.”

 “Why my favorite?” He actually looks taken aback at the suggestion.

 “Well, for one because I’m not from here, so I don’t know where to go.” You try to backpedal, but you’ve started a list. Something he is all too eager to point out. “And two?” He’s got his brows furrowed, a look of pure confusion adorning his face.

 “If it’s your favorite, then you’ve been there before.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Well yes, but your point?” The confusion is still present, but his words are laced with exasperation.

“You might just be comfortable enough in your surroundings to suggest a song idea.” You shrug as you say it, trying to make it feel more casual.

 “You considered whether or not I would be comfortable?” He seems genuinely surprised now.

 “Of course. I want you to help me, so I gotta butter you up.” You try to cover up your blush with a joke.

 “Thank you.” HIs words seem surprised, but the two of you move on. Spencer grabs his satchel, and you your jacket, as the two of you exit the hotel to head to the café. You opt for walking since the weather is not too hot. You don’t say much during the walk. After the moment in the kitchen, you feel a bit nervous. A few fans stop you along the way for a picture or an autograph, but mostly you just enjoy each other’s company. Nobody pays much attention to Spencer, rather opting to ignore him to get your attention. Every time someone comes up to you; you make a point to say excuse me or smile at him before addressing the fans though. You just don’t want him to feel left out or like he’s not important.

 You finally make it to the café. Spencer opens the door before guiding you in, again placing his hand on your back. You thank him as you make your way up to the counter to order. You order a chai latte for yourself, gesturing for Spencer to order his when the barista asks you if you need anything else. You make sure to add two scones to the order before sliding your card into the machine before Spencer has a chance.

 “It’s my fault you’re here with me, so please. My treat.” He shakes his head slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

 “How many times do I have to tell you, none of this is your fault?” He gives you a look as you two move to find a table after accepting the scones.

 “I know.” You don’t sound sure as you take your seat. He doubles down the staring as you continue. “I promise. I know. It was just a joke.” You sound more sure of yourself that time, earning another smile from Spencer.

 The barista brings you your drinks as you settle into the corner booth. You set your phone up on the table, pulling up the recording from yesterday. You pass Spencer your headphones from your purse so he can listen to what you’ve already come up with.

 You take this time to really study him. The sun’s rays are streaming in through the blinds on the window, causing slight shadows to drift across his features. You take in the sharp lines of his jaw as he turns to look around the café, listening to the various melodies and lyrics you sang for the team. His brown locks appear golden as the sunlight reflect off the highlights. He’s sporting a slight stubble from not shaving for a few days. His hazel eyes drift across the faces of everyone in the room, not settling for long on any one person.

 You shift your attention to his hands. He has one draped across the table, lightly tapping along as he listens. His long fingers are mesmerizing. You begin to recognize he is tapping out the melodies as if he were playing the piano. The other hand is wrapped around his coffee cup. You bite your lip as you think about all the things those hands are capable of. Your mind wonders as you stare. You are staring so intently at the way his hand grips the cup, you don’t notice when he removes the headphones.

 Spencer clears his throat to catch your attention. “That was incredible. How do you come up with ideas so fast?” He looks like he knows exactly what you were thinking, but is too kind to bring it up. He’s just doing his job, and this isn’t a date. 

 “Oh, um thanks. I guess the BAU is just full of inspiration. The song writing process is a little different every time, but sometimes I can think of random lyrics and melodies.” You try to smile as you force yourself to focus. “Think back to a time where you felt an emotion really strongly. It can be whatever emotion you want. Then, try to put it into words. I like to use common phrases or metaphors because it can be fun to twist it into something new.” You close your eyes as you think back to how you felt the moment you understood there was a man out there killing people because he is obsessed with you. Maybe it’s a little too soon to write that one out. The idea does give you another way to explain it to Spencer. “It’s kind of like therapy. You can talk out your feelings and share them with people. It’s just a bit more public.” Spencer looks like he’s contemplating his entire life as you sit in this coffee shop.

 “Spence,” you say it lightly to draw him out of his own thoughts, “don’t worry about it. You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to. I just wanted to get the ball rolling. Why don’t we try something else?” He looks grateful as he nods. “Great. Pick out someone in the coffee shop, preferably part of a group.” He looks around before his eyes settle on someone.

 “Okay, now tell me what they’re thinking about.” He looks confused, like a lost puppy. “It’s called people watching. Just make up a story about what they might be doing here.”

 You and Spencer discuss ideas for the next few hours. He picked out a young man, maybe about 19 years old. He was clearly here with friends trying to catch a break from studying if the backpacks on the floor were any hint. Spencer noticed all of that immediately of course, being that he is a profiler.

 His story sounded just like the profile Hotch told you yesterday, although much less horrifying.

 “White male, late teens to early twenties. He is likely a STEM major. This is the first time he has let loose in a while, normally choosing to forego the party life for studying. He likely has immense pressure on him from his family to succeed and do well in school.” You nod along, not having any idea where this information is really coming from. He sounds so confident, you can’t help but ask how he knows all that.

 “You’re incredible. How did you figure all that out?” You stare in wonder at the man across from you. He doesn’t meet your eye, but responds nonetheless.

 “His age is fairly obvious to observe. His bag is fuller than the others, indicating a major that requires more coursework. He keeps checking his watch, almost as if he knows he is wasting time that could be spent working toward a goal. The family pressure can be inferred by the other behavior. It is more likely a young adult is studious due to a strict upbringing with a focus on work ethic and goal-driven activities.”

 “Amazing.” You sigh as you look around the room. “My turn.” You point to a couple sitting a few tables away from you. “Those two are exploring the possibility of taking their relationship past that of friendship. They obviously like each other and are too nervous to say anything.” Almost as if to prove you aren’t a profiler, the two lean across the table for a kiss. You laugh it off, knowing it’s just a game for you.

 “Or maybe not. Either way, their song would be about new love. Something slow and pretty.” You smile as you turn back to Spencer. “Your turn again!”

 The two of you go back and forth a few times. His stories were really just profiles, but after a few tries he leaned into the fun, game-like nature of people watching. Of course, his last story didn’t stray too far from profiling, but it was much more dreamlike in the way he presented it.

 “The woman sitting by the window,” he said, subtly pointing to an older woman at a table alone, “she’s waiting to see her grandkids for the first time in years. Of course, she’s excited to see them again, but she’s nervous. What if they don’t like her? What if she can’t patch things up with her… I’m guessing daughter?” You smile brightly at the story. Family moments were usually the most inspiring for generic song ideas.

 “Good job, Spence! What would the song be about?” The question clearly caught him off guard. For the past few stories, you asked how he came to those conclusions. It was so fascinating to hear how his mind works. This time though, you thought he could really be on to something. You give him an encouraging nod, as you set your phone up to record again.

 “It could be about- about family.” He states it so firmly; you know he wants to say more. “She is sitting there thinking about the memories she has with her own parents and grandparents, so the song could be a reflection on days spent enjoying their company. Maybe future memories they can make together.” He smiles, albeit shyly.

 “That is a really good idea! It fits with the vibe of the lyrics I came up with for Rossi.” You see the moment it clicks in his head. I don’t know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you’re not scared of anything at all. Don’t know if Snow White’s house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today.

 He actually seems pleased with himself now. “We could work on that one tomorrow. We should get up and walk around though, we’ve been sitting here for hours.” You reach for his hand as you scoot out of the booth, pulling him along with you.

 You stuff your hands in the pockets of your windbreaker as you head outside. You feel an overwhelming desire to be close to him, but you don’t want to overstep. The early evening crowd is out and about, bumping into the two of you as you walk back to the hotel at a leisurely pace.

 “Why don’t we go order some room service and just hang out for the rest of the night? All that people watching was exhausting.” You turn to grin up at him as you continue walking. He hums in response, looking down at you in return. You swear you can feel the mood shifting, but the moment is broken by a tap on your arm. You turn to examine the source of the interruption only to find a little girl who couldn’t be more than 10 years old.

 “Hi there!” You squeeze Spencer’s arm before ducking down to talk to the little girl. “Are you parents here?” She nods turning to look at a couple a few feet behind her, slightly out of breath, as if they just chased her down the street.

 “Carly! Honey, you can’t run off like that! You could have gotten hurt!” The man scolds her, but is clearly relieved she didn’t get away from them.

 “Sorry daddy! I just wanted to say hi to Miss Y/N! She sings my favorite song ever!” You wave at the parents before turning your attention back to the little girl.

 “Hi Carly, it’s nice to meet you! You really do need to be careful though. You should always stick with the adults so you don’t get lost.” Your voice is playful, but your expression is serious. The only way to truly convey that message to a child you have no parental claim to. She nods in response.

 “Mommy! Take a picture!” You pose with the girl as her mom takes a picture.

 “We’re so sorry for interrupting your date! She just saw you and took off down the sidewalk.” You blush at what the woman is implying about you and Spencer, not daring to look at him.

 “No worries at all. I’m always happy to meet a fan. Have a good night!” You wave goodbye, linking your arm with Spencer’s as you start to walk. He gives you a curious look, but you just laugh before joking “What? It’s so I don’t get lost.” He chuckles at your childlike behavior, but shifts so you can hold him closer.

 The rest of the walk is peaceful. You don’t see any more fans, which is good because you aren’t paying enough attention to anything at the moment. You keep picturing the look on Spencer’s face right before the little girl interrupted you. What was about to happen?

 Before you know it, you and Spencer are back in the room. He steps into the kitchen to call Hotch while you call to order dinner. You change into the FBI sweatshirt from yesterday and a pair of sleep shorts before settling on the couch to wait for Spencer. A few minutes later, he joins you on the couch after he hangs up. “The team has ruled out all the performers. It’s not surprising as the unsub wouldn’t be brave enough to perform for a crowd. They are still working through the lists of vendors and crew members.”

 “Good. That’s progress. Progress is good.” You nod to yourself, trying to convince yourself everything is normal.

 “Talk to me, what’s going on inside your head?” Spencer reaches out to take your hand while you stare at the ground.

 “I don’t know. I guess it’s just hard. It’s hard to have such an amazing day and then think about how it only happened because people are being killed. I guess I feel guilty.” You keep going before he can interrupt you. “I know it’s not my fault that this guy is out there doing horrible things, but I still feel bad for enjoying myself while it’s happening.” You don’t have any tears left to cry. You look over to Spencer to find him staring back at you.

 “Y/N, you are such a selfless person. There isn’t anything else you can do right now. We haven’t had any more victims, likely because nobody has posted about how excited they are for your shows since we still have 13 days before the next one. We are going to catch this guy.” You form your mouth into a soft smile before nodding at him. “What movie do you want to watch?”

 You smile at his attempt to distract you. “You pick. Anything that will take my mind off things, but not require too much thinking.”

 Spencer is racking his brain for a movie that fits your description when you hear a knock on the door. “Must be the food, I’ll get it.” When you return with the food, you find Spencer still thinking over movie choices.

 “Okay, how about this. What do you like to watch when you really need a pick me up?”

 Again he looks surprised that you would take his opinion into account. “Um, usually Doctor Who, but that’s not a movie it’s a-”

 “TV show. Right. Is that the one where they fly around in a telephone booth?”

 “First of all, it's a police box, not a phone booth. Second of all, Doctor Who started a quarter of century before Bill and Ted even went on their bodacious adventures. So really, they should just call it Bill and Ted's excellent rip-off, I mean at least then...”

You listen as he rambles about why people always think it’s a telephone booth. You can’t help but smile at how cute he is when he’s talking about something he’s passionate about. You don’t realize he asked you a question until he clears his throat with a confused expression.

 “Sorry, I was rambling again.” He looks dejected, and you would do anything in the world to make him smile again.

 “No, I’m sorry!” You scoot closer to him to convey your point. “I was listening at first I promise. It’s just, you looked so happy I got distracted. Let’s watch Doctor Who.” You turn to face the TV before you say anything else that makes you feel like a complete moron. He sorts through the food as you find the show online, setting it up to play on the TV. There’s random free episodes on demand, so you end up staring with the 11th doctor.

 You are completely captivated by the show. Every so often, Spencer would comment on a theory about what one specific prop could mean only to have you cover your ears and warn him about spoilers. During an episode about creepy angel statues, he goes on a tangent about how Amy could have avoided the whole situation. Once he starts mentioning characters you haven’t met, you actually have to reach your hand up to cover his mouth to get him to stop talking. His words putter to a stop, eyes widening in shock as he stares at you.

 “Spence, I absolutely love how passionate you are about Doctor Who. But it doesn’t matter how adorable it is when you ramble on about something. If you spoil one more thing before I can actually watch the whole show through, I will not hesitate to smack you.” You stare right in his eyes the entire time, watching as they widen with each word. You had to get a lot closer to him to actually reach his mouth. He had moved forward, animatedly waving his arms around as he talked about various plot points, so you were basically sitting on his lap to avoid being smacked in the face.

 You drop your arm from his face slowly, as if any sudden movement would break the spell you were under. You lean forward, connecting your forehead to his. You take a steadying breath as you close your eyes. Your about to close the gap when his phone rings. Again, the moment is lost. You only move enough so that he can reach into his pocket for his phone. As he answers the call, you shift in his lap to cuddle into his chest.

 “Morgan, what do you need?” Maybe you’re imaging it, but he almost sounds the slightest bit annoyed. You can just make out what Morgan is saying on the other end of the phone.

 “Calm down, Pretty Boy. We might have a lead, Hotch and Emily are tracking it down now. I’ll meet you at the hotel in the morning to go over it all with you and Y/N.”

 “Okay, thanks for the update.” He sounds so normal now, you think you must have imagined the annoyance earlier. He hangs up the phone, tossing it next to him on the couch. He wraps his arms around you before shifting so you’re both laying down.

 “Let’s just relax and watch more Doctor Who. Morgan is stopping by in the morning to talk about the case.” You nod in agreement, turning to face the TV. A few episodes later, you and Spencer are drifting in and out of sleep. Neither one of you really wants to interrupt what you’ve got going, instead opting to just fall asleep on the couch.

 --

 You hear the faintest knocking noise that pulls you out of your slumber. It takes a few minutes for you to recognize you are on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms. He must have pulled a blanket over the two of you last night after you fell asleep. Before you can get up to evaluate the knocking, the door opens and Morgan comes rushing in. The concern on his face is quickly replaced with a knowing smirk. You blush, jealous that Spencer is somehow still asleep.

 “Hi Morgan. Sorry to alarm you. We must have fallen asleep watching TV last night.” At the sound of your voice, Spencer slowly begins to wake up. He smiles sleepily at you before realizing your attention is elsewhere. He practically throws you off the couch in his effort to sit up when he realizes Morgan is in the room.

 “Sorry!” Spencer looks at Morgan, then back to you. “I’m so sorry!” You laugh as you stand up.

 “Don’t worry about it.” You settle yourself in the chair, gesturing for Morgan to sit next to Spencer now that he isn’t sprawled across the entire sofa anymore. Turning to Morgan, you ask about the case “What did you want to talk about?”

 “We have been focused on going through the people who work for the tour. It makes the most sense for them to travel with you, otherwise it would require a lot more planning.” You can feel the nerves growing in your stomach. “Garcia found a name we wanted to run by you.” He hands you a picture before saying the name. “Ryan Moore. He works-“

 “On the instrumentals. I know. He usually runs the sound booth during the shows. I don’t know him that well, but we’ve talked a few times.” You think back over your past conversations. “It couldn’t be him.” You are 100% sure he is not the unsub, and the agents don’t fail to notice the conviction in your voice.

 “What makes you so sure?” Spencer is flipping through the case file Morgan brought with him. He doesn’t even look up when he asks the question, too focused on memorizing every detail about this man’s life.

 “Well, Hotch told me the unsub wouldn’t be able to talk to me right?” You look to Morgan for confirmation.

 “Yes. He wouldn’t approach you or seem confident when talking with you if you approached him.” Morgan confirms what you’re thinking.

 “Great. So it can’t be him.” You smile to yourself for actually contributing to the case. “Last week, right after the Columbus show, he asked me out. The unsub wouldn’t be brave enough, right?” The utter joy in your voice startles Spencer enough that he finally looks up from the file.

“Alright then. He’s likely not the unsub, but we’ll finish the investigation into him just in case.” Morgan settles back into the chair he’s sitting in, making no move to leave even though the conversation is clearly over. There is an obvious smirk on his face as he looks at Spencer.

 “Well, I’m going to make some breakfast, feel free to watch TV or something.” You smile awkwardly at the two men, unsure of why there is suddenly a strange tension in the air. As you move into the kitchen, you connect your phone to your Bluetooth speaker. Listening to music while you cook has always been calming for you. You honestly prefer baking, but eggs and sausage with toast sounds perfect right now. You pull out the ingredients, humming softly as you dance around the kitchen. You can just barely hear that Morgan and Spencer are talking in the other room, but not enough to make out what they are saying. It just sounds a bit more intense the conversation you just had.

 You choose to ignore it and give them their privacy instead focusing on cooking. You end up making scrambled eggs the way your mom taught you, by mixing in some chive and onion cream cheese. You pop some English muffins in the oven under the broiler while you place the eggs and sausages in dishes. After turning the music down, you move all the food to the table. You’re about to invite Spencer and Morgan to have some food when you hear their conversation.

 “I’m telling you man. She likes you. You should go for it.” Morgan is clearly trying to encourage Spencer, but he won’t hear it.

 “Morgan, it’s not like that. It’s probably just transference because I’m here to make sure she doesn’t get hurt. Plus, you saw the smile on her face when she talked about Ryan asking her out. She was beaming.” He sighs, almost wistfully as you consider what he’s saying. Surely you are capable of separating your feelings for him from the situation. Would you like him if you had just run into him on the street? Plus, what does Ryan have to do with this?

 You move back to the stove to remove the English muffins before they burn, putting them on a plate as well. Ultimately, you decide to try to straighten out your feelings for Spencer before making a move. You want to be sure. If there is even a shred of doubt in your mind, Spencer will surely be able to see it on your face. Stupid profilers.

 Their conversation died down while you were dealing with the muffins, so you walk back to the other side of the room. You mumble out “I made food, you’re both welcome to have some” before returning to the table. You have a lot to think about and the last thing you want to do is lead Spencer on if you aren’t sure. He deserves better than that.

 The conversation over breakfast is nice. Nothing too heavy or serious. The three of you are just talking about your lives. Morgan asks you what it’s like to be famous. You ask him and Spencer what it’s like to be in the FBI. You realize just how different your career paths are. The only thing you can relate to is travelling. Neither Spencer nor Morgan have family in the area, but they mention how hard it is for Hotch and JJ.

 “That I can understand. The travelling, I mean. Of course, I travel to perform, not to track down killers.” The room is quiet for a few minutes as you think about what to say. Morgan and Reid being profilers know you haven’t finished your thought, so they give you the time to think it over.

 “Thank you.” You say it softly, but firmly at the same time. This is the first time you’ve seen either of them look surprised.

 “Wh- for what?” It’s Morgan who speaks up. Spencer has a familiar expression on his face. It’s the same look he got when you asked his opinion for coffee shops and movies.

 “For everything. For protecting me. For catching bad guys. For giving up so much to do this job. You two, and the rest of your team, you all sacrifice so much to keep people safe. I mean, I’m sure the people you save and the families you give closure to are grateful, and you deserve that. But, you also deserve to have everyone be thankful for what you do. You get into the minds of these people. It must be exhausting to have to think like that all the time. I’m barely dealing with it now and it’s only be on my mind for 2 days! I just can’t even fathom the number of people you have saved, people that you’ve never even met, by doing this. So, thank you. For being strong enough to do it. For being you.”

 You spoke every word with every ounce of sincerity you could muster up. You were looking between them as you said it. The shock on Morgan’s face slowly morphed into a small smile. Spencer’s expression didn’t change, but somehow looked more sincere when you were done.

 Neither one of them knew what to say. Morgan rose from his chair to pull you into a hug. Patting you on the back, he uttered a soft thank you before saying he should get back to the office to help the rest of the team. You locked the door behind him, turning to see Spencer staring at you from the table.

 “Spence? Are you okay?” You were nervous that your impromptu speech made him uncomfortable. He rose from the table, slowly making his way across the room to you.

 “I’m, I, I just… that was… thank you. You amaze me.” He barely says the words, practically breathing them into existence. You reach for his hand, squeezing it.

 “I meant every single word. Promise.” There is nothing more you want to do than kiss him right now, but all you can hear in your head is Spencer talking about transference. You hug him quickly before pulling back again. Without some distance between the two of you, you won’t be able to control yourself. “Do you want to go to another café today? Or somewhere with a piano so I can finally see you play?”

 “We can do what you want today. You let me pick the café and the show yesterday, so it’s only fair.”  You grin, knowing exactly where you want to take him.

 The two of you get ready in near silence after that. Both of you want to calm down a bit before spending another day together. After you’ve both showered and changed, you drag Spencer down to the SUV. The weather outside is perfect for where you want to go, but the park is just far enough away that you want to drive. You pull up directions on your phone, hiding the address from him. Spencer protests the entire time. He keeps mumbling about how he would know how to get there if you just told him where you were going. Then something about how mobile phones are a distraction, so it would be safer for him to drive anyway.

 You just let him ramble on about the many DC streets. Your grip on the wheel tightens when he starts listing off statistics about car accidents.

 “More than 38,000 people die every year in crashes on U.S. roadways. The U.S. traffic fatality rate is actually 12.4 deaths per 100,000 inhabitants. An additional 4.4 million are injured seriously enough to require medical attention. Road crashes are the leading cause of death in the U.S. for people aged 1-54.” With every passing word, your knuckles get whiter, your heartbeat gets faster, and your breaths get shorter. Spencer is too caught up in reciting the statistics to realize anything is wrong until he turns to look at you, his next sentence dying on his tongue. “Seatbelts reduce the risk of dying by…” His brow furrows as he takes in your appearance.

 “By what Spence? Don’t leave me hanging?” You try to joke with him to calm yourself down, but he obviously sees right through it.

 “45%.” He continues before you can even comprehend the number. “Y/N, what’s wrong?”

 “Nothing. I’m totally fine. 100% A-Okay.” You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself down. Having arrived at your destination, you pull into a parking spot.

 “Y/N, talk to me. What is it?” You take a steadying breath as you turn to face him. Honestly, you are embarrassed more than anything else. You were the one who decided you had to drive.

 “Spence, really it’s not a big deal. I just get nervous driving sometimes. I don’t have to do it a lot, and I’ve never felt like I was particularly good at it. It doesn’t matter though, we’re here.” You move to get out of the car, but Spencer reaches across the car to stop you. His face is only inches from yours as the realization dawns on him.

 “And I was rambling on about how dangerous driving is.” He says it more to himself than to you. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you stop me? I really need to learn how to shut up. I just get so caught up in the statistics-“ “Spencer. I love when you ramble. I’ve already told you how calming it is… normally. I’m fine, I promise. You just have to drive us back to the hotel later. Deal?”

 “Deal.” You’re both smiling as you get out of the car to walk around the park you brought him to. He doesn’t ask why you picked this place and you don’t offer up a reason. He’ll figure it out soon enough. You talk about random things from childhood as you lazily stroll through the trees. There’s something so calming about wandering through so many trees when you know you’re in the middle of a bustling city.

 Before long, the two of you have crossed the park. A few feet away stands an upright piano in front of a park bench. You glance at Spencer as he looks at the piano, realization gracing his features as he discovers why you chose this particular park. You beckon for him to sit down next to you, asking him to play you a song.

 He blushes as you whisper pretty please in his ear. The cherry on top does him in. Soon enough, you are hearing the beginning notes of Bach’s Prelude in C. You just sit and listen, watching his fingers gracefully move above the keys. He’s not the most passionate of piano players. You can practically see the gears turning in his brain as he moves his hands efficiently across the instrument, as if he really is thinking about the math behind it all. Still, you lose yourself in the music, swaying lightly. You find yourself leaning on his shoulder, closing your eyes as you think about everything you’ve been feeling.

 You studied music for a few years when you were young. That’s how you started writing, with lessons to learn to play both the guitar and the piano. You took to the guitar more than the piano, but you remember learning about the emotion behind every classical piece you were taught to play. You can’t help but think back to those lessons as you listen to Spencer. This song is always reaching forward, yearning for the next note. It plays into the idea that life is simple and pure. Even good at times. But there is something lurking just below the surface. It’s weirdly fitting of your current situation, but you choose to just be glad he chose the major over the minor.

 You feel the breeze in your hair as Spencer finishes the song. For a few moments, the two of you sit listening to the leaves rustling in the wind. Eventually, you look around the park once it is quiet again. It’s mostly empty given that it’s 2 pm on a Tuesday, so there aren’t many people around to witness this moment. You slip your phone on the piano to record before you take over, playing that all too familiar melody that reminds you of Spencer. Neither of you say anything as you let the music and your emotions guide you through the song. You can tell it’s not perfect, but it just feels right.

 After that, you and Spencer brainstorm lyrics for Rossi’s song for another few hours. The park begins to fill up as school lets out and the workday ends. A few fans recognize you, asking for pictures. After a particularly strong gust of wind, Spencer drapes his cardigan over you as you walk back toward the car, both of you blissfully unaware of the figure watching you from behind the trees.

 --

  The next few days pass in much the same fashion. Spencer takes calls about the case, trying to narrow down the massive list of crew members on your tour. You and he work on lyrics for Rossi’s song, as well as JJ’s. She’s just so pretty, the words flow right out of you. You can tell Spencer agrees. You believe him as he swears up and down that the two of them are just friends, but you can’t help teasing him just a bit.

 “Honestly, it would be weirder if you didn’t think she was pretty. The woman looks as if she were sculpted by Michelangelo himself. A living embodiment of Aphrodite.” He nods in agreement, a faint blush on his cheeks.

 --

 No matter how much you try, you just cannot come up with anymore good lyrics for Spencer’s song. It could be that he is sitting right next to you all the time and knows the song is for him that’s causing the writer’s block, but it’s still frustrating.

 One night, he’s working through the case file for the third time in a row when you interrupt his thoughts with a seemingly random question.

 “Spence, can you tell me a story?” He looks up at you, brow furrowed and eyes confused. “I just need inspiration for the lyrics. Everything I come up with sucks.” You pout until he finally gives in. “Yay! It can be anything, even a memory. Just make it overwhelmingly happy.”

 Spencer stops looking through the file as he thinks back on his life experiences for an overwhelmingly happy memory. The faces of his team members instantly flood his mind as he sorts through the many good times they’ve had. He keeps circling back to one event, ultimately deciding it is happy enough to fit your standards.

 “This is actually the story of JJ’s wedding.” You lean forward, a wedding story could be just what the doctor ordered. “Will wanted to marry her for a while, but she was hesitant. She said everything was perfect as it was, she didn’t feel the need to change anything.” You were honestly a little confused as to where the happiness was at this point, but you let him continue anyway. You could listen to this man talk for days on end without complaint.

 “We ended up working a case with Will. It was a bank robbery turned hostage situation. It was a rough case for all of us; bombs, secret partners, kids at risk. I won’t bore you with the details,” he chuckles at your thankful expression, “but it all worked out in the end. Will, he could’ve died. When JJ went to see him in the hospital, she told him to ask her again. She wanted to get married then and there in the hospital chapel. Will wanted to wait until he was actually out of the hospital though, and not wearing a hospital gown.” You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of loving someone so much, you were instantly ready to marry them.

 “Rossi, he overheard everything. So, he started planning. He called JJ’s mom, told her to fly in and to bring her wedding dress. We threw her a surprise wedding the next day. It was such a beautiful moment, to have such a joyous event after everything that we had been through. JJ looked wonderstruck as her mom walked her down the aisle. The lights were sparkling. It was enchanting.” He spoke with such awe about the whole event. He told you stories about doing magic for Henry and Jack, who you came to know as Hotch’s son. It was so easy for you to picture the fairy lights and purple flowers. The team seemed like such a close-knit family, it only made sense that they would share this memory.

 The chorus of the song hit you like a ton of bricks. You didn’t even warn Spencer as you jumped from the couch and ran to the piano. He followed behind you, curious to see what would happen. He watched with wonder as you placed your phone to record on top of the piano and started playing the family melody you first hummed while thinking about him.

 “This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go. I’m wonderstruck, blushing all the way home. I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew, I was enchanted to meet you.” The verses didn’t pour out of you in quite the same way, but the general storyline of the song came to you in the next few minutes. You rushed to get it all out, speaking directly into the phone.

 “The first verse can be about feeling out of place in a room, faking laughter, forcing smiles. Then it all changes when she sees him. It’s as if they have a conversation with only their eyes as they float across the room to each other. Then the chorus. The second verse can be about her wondering if he felt it to. 2 am who do you love? Chorus again. Then the bridge can be about hoping that the one night wasn’t it for them. That she’ll see him again and hoping he isn’t already in love or with someone.” You’re so pleased with the song idea, you don’t notice the shifting expressions on Spencer’s face. After your explanation, you turn to him, the biggest smile he’s seen yet on your face.

 “What do you think?” He’s so shocked he doesn’t know how to respond. After a moment of silence, your face begins to fall. You can’t stop your brain from thinking the worst.

 He must hate it. Oh god, he’s just trying to find a way to let me down easy. Why do I have to be so stupid? Sure, go ahead. Write a love song about the man who’s sitting next to you. That won’t be weird at all. Oh god, oh god…

 Suddenly, Spencer is pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s beautiful. It will make a wonderful song.” He’s whispering in your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against you is too much. Everything you’ve been pushing back for the past few days comes roaring to the surface. You can’t stop yourself.

 You pull back slowly, only to pull his face to yours so rapidly you’re surprised you didn’t get whiplash. In less than an instant, his lips are moving gracefully against yours. His hands slide down your body to your waist as he pulls you even closer to him. Your arms move up around his neck, your fingers running through his hair. The hunger and passion is slowly taken over by the need for oxygen, the two of you separating just enough to pull air into your lungs.

 He kisses your forehead, and you kiss his nose. A few minutes later, and you’re still standing there with your heads pressed together, arms wrapped around each other. Every so often, one of you places a light kiss on the others mouth, just to make sure this is real.

 “I know what you’re thinking.” You are still out of breath from kissing him, but you can just tell his mind is moving a mile a minute.

 “I’m not sure you do.” He sounds nervous.

 “I think I might surprise you.” You can’t help but tease him a little before continuing. “You think its all transference. That I only think I like you because you’re here to protect me. Some sort of white knight bullshit.” You can’t stop yourself from sounding mildly annoyed about it. Although, the look of shock on his face helps. “I heard what you said to Morgan.” He sighs before moving to pull back.

 “No, Spence. Listen to me. I heard what you said to Morgan.” You wait for him to follow your train of thought back a few days.

 “But that was four days ago?” He looks more confused than ever.

 “I know. I wanted to make sure that what I feel is real. I didn’t want to lead you on if I might not actually want this. But I do. More than I’ve ever wanted anything before. Spencer, you are a light in my life and not just because you’re here to make sure I don’t get murdered. Although that certainly doesn’t hurt. I feel like I can tell you anything and you won’t judge me for it. That I can truly be myself without worry of letting you down.”

 “Y/N you could never let me down. I just don’t want you to wake up one day and regret anything. I don’t want you to regret me.” He looks crestfallen.

 “Spencer Reid.”  You move your hands to his cheeks to gently push his head up to make eye contact. “I could never regret a single moment spent with you. I have loved every single one. I loved watching you listen to the songs about your friends. I loved listening to you talk about things you love, like Doctor Who and statistics. I loved sitting next to while you played piano. I loved talking to you about anything and everything. Spencer, I love how I feel when I’m with you and I know for a fact I would feel the same way if I met you walking down the street.”

 “Y/N” the way he says your name is music to your ears. “I love how I feel when I’m with you too. I loved listening to you sing about my friends, capturing the essence of who they are. I loved watching you experience the things I have grown so accustomed to doing. I loved the feeling of you leaning on my shoulder while I played Bach. I loved hearing you come up with an entire storyline for one song in a matter of minutes just based on one story. I have loved every single second I have been with you since I first saw you 7 days, 2 hours, and 32 minutes ago. Even if I didn’t say a word to you until after you woke up in the hospital.”

 The two of you laugh as you pull him to the couch to cuddle. You put on more Doctor Who, sitting with your legs across his lap and playing with his hands. It’s nice to just be close to him without having to worry. You find yourself getting wrapped up in the show. Spencer is quieter this time. You think he might have something on his mind, but you decide to wait for him to share. Between the third and fourth episode, he speaks up.

 “Y/N, are you and Ryan… are you together?” You look up to see a nervous expression once again on his face.

 “Ryan who?” You are genuinely confused as to who he could even be talking about.

 “Ryan Moore, the sound booth guy.” You look even more confused than before.

 “Not even a little bit. I politely declined his offer to take me out. Is that what’s been bugging you for the last three episodes?” You smile at his pout.

 “Maybe. You just seemed so happy when you mentioned that he asked you out. You were practically glowing with how big your smile was.”

“Spence, I was happy because I could actually help you with the case. I only have eyes for one guy.” You shift to straddle his lap.

 “Yeah, who’s that?” He pulls you even closer.

 “Matt Smith” You say it with the best deadpan expression you can manage in the circumstances.

 “Wow, your standards must be pretty low to settle for the 11th doctor. He’s not even in the top three best doctors!” He plays along with your joke, although he doesn’t have to act incredulous sat you preference for the 11th doctor.

 “Well, my number one doctor isn’t really on TV.” You bite your lip, leaning in until you connect your mouth to his.

 Right as you’re both about to take it one step further, your phone rings. “Fuck.” The word is barely a whisper leaving your mouth as you pull back from Spencer trying to catch your breath.

 “Hello?” you don’t hear anything on the other end of the phone. “Hello? Anyone there? Hello?” Suddenly the line goes dead. You turn to Spencer. “Well, that was weird.” Spencer frantically moves you off his lap as he stands up, taking out his phone. Without telling you anything, he is frantically dialing a number, mumbling under his breath.

 “Garcia! I need to you to figure out who just called Y/N’s phone.” He waits a minute, presumably listening to her reply. “Yes, it just rang and when she answered nobody said anything. Thank you.” He hangs up, swiftly moving back to the couch to pull you into a hug.

 “What just happened?” You can feel your heartrate speeding up.

 “It might be nothing, but that might have been the unsub. Garcia is tracking down the number that made the call right now. If it’s possible to figure out, she’ll have it done by morning.” He rubs calming circles on your hip with his thumb. “Why don’t you go to sleep? Try to get some rest?” You nod, rising from the couch.

 “Spence, will you lay with me?” Your voice is small and scared as you ask the question. He simply nods, both of you changing into pajamas before meeting in the bedroom to lay down. You snuggle up close to him, trying to breathe in the same pattern as him until you fall asleep.

 --

 When you wake up, you can hear Spencer in the living room, talking on his phone. You want nothing more than to go back to sleep, but not if you can’t cuddle with Spencer while you do it. Throwing the covers off of you, you get up so you can actually see Spencer. He’s got his back to you when you open the door, so you sneak up behind him. He jumps a little with a surprised gasp when you wrap your arms around his middle.

 “What? Oh, uh… I’m fi-fine. Everything’s fine. I was just surprised.” He spins around to hug you, giving you a slight glare. “By, um, a beetle. Yeah, there was a beetle.” The lie is so obvious you can’t help but laugh as you bury your head into his chest.

 A few minutes later, he finally hangs up. “What did they find out about the phone call?” You mumble the question into the fabric of his cardigan.

 “Less than we were hoping for. It was a prepaid cell, so Garcia can’t trace it back to the owner.” You squeeze him tighter, glad to have him with you through all of this. After a few minutes of standing with him, you reluctantly pull back.

 “Well, we should get to work. These songs are not going to write themselves!”

 You and Spencer retreat to different parts of the suite to get ready for the day. As much as you would love to jump his bones, it doesn’t feel right to take up his time with that when he could be working. At least if you were working on songs together it was part of the cover.

 You ultimately decide to just sit in the park across from the hotel today. Normally, you wouldn’t even leave your room at this point in the writing process. You just don’t completely trust yourself to be alone with him at the moment. At least in public you can control yourself a little bit. Yet, the many people walking around the park do nothing to stop you from grabbing Spencer’s hand and playing with his fingers while thinking particularly hard about a certain lyric.

 A bright flash of light draws you out of your reverie. You already know how the picture is going to look. You are laying across a blanket, knees in the air. Spencer is sitting beside you, reading messages from the team on his phone. His other hand is still between yours as you run your fingers over his knuckles. You are absolutely sure there is look of complete adoration on your face. You can’t bring yourself to care that the paparazzi took the picture. You have nothing to hide.

 After the shock of the bright light fades, you notice a familiar face behind the few photographers in front of you. The shock of seeing someone for a second time floods your brain while you try to remember the profile Hotch told you that very first night. Without thinking too hard, you fling yourself into a sitting position. You gather everything you brought with you to the park, dragging Spencer along with you. He clearly doesn’t understand the shift in your behavior, but he’d gladly follow you anywhere.

 It’s not until you reach your room that you look at him. He can see the fear in your eyes before you even open your mouth. “Baby, what is it? What happened?” He begins recalling everything from the moment the first flash went off, trying to figure out what made you so scared.

 “I saw him.” You can barely hear yourself over the sound of your heart beating in your chest. “I saw the unsub. I mean, I think I did. He held the door open for us this morning when we left the hotel, and then he was in the park when the paparazzi were taking pictures. Hotch… he said to tell you if I saw anyone more than once in a day.” The words escape your lips in a hurry, trying to keep up with your flying thoughts.

 “Okay, breathe. I’m right here. I’m going to call the team. Did you recognize him from anywhere else?” You try to picture the face in your mind, and suddenly you are seeing him everywhere. In the coffee shop that very first day. Behind the trees in the park with the piano. If you and Spencer were there, so was he. Just, normally you only caught a glimpse of him for a second. Definitely not twice in one day.

 You rush to tell Spencer what you’re remembering. At this point, you don’t even know if it’s true. Maybe your mind is playing tricks on you. Just filling in this man’s face on other people’s bodies to fit the story that he is the one behind it all. Nonetheless, you give him the description of who you saw. White, probably 35ish, brown hair. You didn’t see his eyes, but they looked evil. The expression on his face just screamed serial killer. Maybe that’s in your head too. Who knows?

 “I know I’ve seen that face before, I just can’t remember where. God, I’m useless. This man is hurting people and I can’t even remember where I’ve seen him before. Think. Think. THINK.” You’ve started pacing the room, trying to figure out who it could be. Spencer doesn’t say anything else to you until he’s finished the phone call. Even then, he’s more so humming and shushing you than really talking. He pulls you into a hug, trying to calm you down yet again.

 “Y/N. You are anything but useless. You noticed he was there. That’s a step in the right direction. We are going to find him, and he is going to go to jail for a very long time.” Somewhere, deep inside, you knew Spencer couldn’t guarantee that, but you also knew it was better for you to listen to him than to force yourself down a rabbit hole you couldn’t dig yourself out of.

 A few calming breaths later, and your asleep on the couch, wrapped up in Spencer’s arms.

 --

 It’s still dark when you open your eyes. You can hear someone moving around, but it’s too dark to see. Spencer isn’t with you on the couch, so it could be him, but something feels wrong. Why would Spencer be up in the middle of the night wandering around in the dark?

 “Spencer?” Everything goes still at the sound of your voice. Yeah, that was not the best move you could’ve made… Before you can say anything else, you are knocked out cold. The sound of a lamp smashing over your head is that last thing you hear.

tag list:

@mac99martin , @wecouldbreakthedistance , @spencerhotchner , @girloncorneliastreet , @itsametaphorbriansblog , @moonshinerbynight , @meowiemari , @justanotherfangirl  , @im-so-wonderstruck , @eevee0722 , @raining13lemonade​ @dilaudidwinchester​ , @silverdagger69 , @thatsonezesty13

[softlikethesunset12]

Hi guys! This is the first chapter of a Hunger Games fic I’m working on. It’s modern AU. Rated T. I hope you guys like it! And let me know what you think :)

Ps. English is not my first language so I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes. Message me if you want to my beta :)

Summary: Katniss works at Starbucks, it’s a normal day and she is taking orders: His voice is the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. And again, so familiar. “Yes of course. What’s your name? For on the cup.” I say, still not looking at his face. “It’s Peeta, Peeta Mellark.”

The Most Amazing Coffee

Chapter 1

I hear some strange noise. At first, I think it will stop after a few minutes. It doesn’t. I groan as I realize it’s my alarm. And I already snoozed it a couple times, so I can’t do it again because than I’m gonna be late for work. I have to be there at 9 a.m. I shut off my alarm, look at the time -7:30- and sit up. I still have time for a quick shower and breakfast which is good because I can’t really be nice to customers if I haven’t eaten yet.

I work at Starbucks in Panem, a not really known neighborhood in New York, it’s not the best job ever although it gets paid pretty well and I can’t complain about the coffee there.

I walk towards my bathroom to take a quick shower. I turn the water on and stand under the hot stream except the water isn’t hot. I shiver and realize that the water boiler broke again. Great. Really really great. Frustrated, I quickly wash my hair and my body -I don’t bother shave my legs because it’s winter and it’s not like someone’s gonna see them. I’m pretty pissed that the water is cold, but I have to admit that it is a good wake up call. I shut the water off and grab a towel. I dry off and throw om some blue jeans and a gray sweater. I braid my hair and put on a little bit of mascara.

It’s 7:50 when I walk into my living room and small kitchen. I have to be quiet because my roommate -Johanna- is still sleeping. I make a toast with jelly and grab a bottle of water out of the fridge. After I’m finished with eating, I gather my stuff together and get ready to leave. It is 8:15 when I walk through the door of the apartment. I always walk to work. It’s not far from my apartment and I don’t have a car, so yeah walking it is. I’m a little bit early when I arrive but that doesn’t matter though because now, I can drink my favorite drink before my shift starts.

“Hey Madge, can I get a venti iced chai latte with vanilla sweet cream cold foam?” I’ve known Madge since high school, she was basically my only friend. But that doesn’t mean she was a bad friend, definitely not, she was and is my best friend. She was always there for me and I owe her even if she says that I don’t, I love her though and I don’t say that to a lot of people. She is beautiful with her curly blond hair, blue eyes and plump lips.

“Hi Katniss! Right away! How are you?” She says with a smile. I can’t help to smile back at her, “Well apart from that my shower was cold this morning, I’m pretty good” I say.

“Did the water boiler broke again?” She says while making my drink.

“Yeah it did, it was a good wake up call though.” I say trying to sound optimistic.

Madge sees right through me. “You can always shower at my place, you know that, right?”

“Yeah I know, thanks Madge.”

She hands me my drink and I happily take it. “Thanks.”

“Of course, Katniss.” She says with a smile.

XXXXXXXXX

The rest of the day goes by as usual. I take orders, I make drinks, I talk with Madge about everything and nothing. I’m almost done for the day when two men come in and get ready to take their order. I look them up and down, one of them is very hot. I can’t deny it. He has bronze hair, sea green eyes and a smile that has every girl swooning. And by what you can see of his shirt through the opening of his coat, he doesn't have any lack of muscles.

When I look at the other man, all the air gets knocked out of my lungs. He is breathtaking and not only because he is flaming hot but also because he has something familiar.

His blond curls look like he just stepped out of bed, his blue eyes look like he can see right through your soul, his jaw line looks like you can cut something with it and his smile looks like the sunshine.

Do I know him? He looks so freaking familiar. If I had already met him, I would’ve remembered right?

Before I can think further about it, they come walking towards me. I look down at the counter to avoid staring. The man with the blue eyes speaks first, “Hi, can I get a pumpkin spiced latte with whipped cream on top?” His voice is the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard. And again, so familiar. “Yes of course, what’s your name? for on the cup.” I say, still not looking at his face. “It’s Peeta, Peeta Mellark.”

Recognition surges through me. I look up, still too stunned to speak.

“Hi Katniss.” He says with a soft smile.

There are already 5 more chapters up! You can read them here: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13804859/  :)

[desi-lgbt-fest]

Day 5: Platonic

A story I wrote for today's prompt. It's a story about two middle aged men realising the happiness they want can come in many different forms.

1. 8 k words.

Cw: Mild homophobia. Incorrect language. It's indicative of character's understanding, not mine.

...

When Vikram Kumar first transferred to their branch, Nath wasn't impressed. Theirs was a small transport company, still somehow holding on against the giants of the industry. They were doing well for themselves; they had branches in few neighbouring states where the business was concentrated. And yeah, the company policy does state that employees should get transferred around every 4 years or so. But that never really happened. Nath had been working at Gada transport ltd for more than 25 years now and the only way anybody new ever came in the office was if someone died or retired.

That was what had happened. Another clerk, Nisha Bhagwan, had a heart attack at the computer and in came Vikram Kumar, a transfer from Nagpur. The office people took to him like animals take to the new clown at the circus. Nobody was really sad about Mrs Bhagwan's passing. She was old and in an office full of other old people, they were just waiting for the hat to drop on someone. Better Mrs Bhagwan than us.

They inquired after him, after his family, his mother's family, his neighbour's family, his neighbour's dog's family. When they found out that he was divorced and currently living in a sketchy hotel, they immediately turned to Nath.

Nath, or Adinath, as his name was, owned two flats in his society. Two flats side by side, one in which he lived. He very famously refused to rent it out to families or students or single women. Which meant, he never really rented it out. It actually quite suited to his own solitary silent life. But he regretted boasting about it in the office because here came his perfect rent.

"I- uh. The apartment is very dirty and I'd have to clean it," he started making excuses.

Vikram Kumar shrugged. "I don't mind. Better than listening to the sex noises coming from the side wall." Raucous laughter emerged, unhampered by the fact that their only woman employee wasn't there anymore.

Nath couldn't say no.

Vikram Kumar did turn out to be an ideal renter. He was silent. No guests. Rent, which Nath had kept a little high to dissuade, always on time. Sometimes old hindi songs drifted from his flat but Nath didn't mind. As his novelty wore off and office people stopped fawning over him, Nath did find himself to be quite okay with Vikram Kumar's existence.

A distinct mark in his favour was that he didn't laugh when at their regular chai break (5 minute break that always turned into a 45 minute one) the others made him familiar with Nath's title as the resident Bramhachari.

"Never married, never looks at a woman," Bhosle, their manager remarked.

"Hey you remember that time when that bombshell came in complaining about some lost package? Nath did not even look away from her face."

"Pakka gentleman, I tell you. He's not the customer complaint manager for nothing."

Everybody guffawed. Nath gave his regular pained smile. Vikram Kumar smiled back. For a moment, Nath thought it was a smile of understanding.

Eventually, Nath started offering Vikram Kumar a ride home on his ancient scooter. He obliged. When the ride turned regular, Vikram Kumar started contributing for petrol. Another mark in his favour.

13 months later, Vivek Chand, accountant, retired. In came a new hire, Ashalata Waad.

Suddenly many colleagues started turning up in pressed shirts and oiled hair. Nath merely shook his head and laughed at their preening. It was their colleagues' turn to laugh when Ms. Ashalata, recently widowed, took to Nath. Furtive smiles. Sympathy over dealing with difficult clients. Nath of course did not notice. But the other colleagues did. And out of sympathy for Ms Ashalata's feelings, they gently took her to a side after a week or so and directed her towards someone more likely to respond; the new divorcee, Vikram Kumar.

That, Nath certainly noticed.

That evening, Nath left without offering a ride to him.

Next morning, everyone noticed the distinct coldness between Ms Ashalata and Vikram Kumar. It was a long day too. Some trouble with licensing of a large shipment, everybody had to stay behind. It was well over 8 when people started leaving. Vikram came over to Nath's desk and tapped on it.

"I don't think this late I will find a riksha like yesterday. Will you please give a ride home?"

Nath sighed. He wasn't petty after all. Well, not much.

The streets were near empty. Theirs was a small town. One that eats at 8 and sleeps at 10. Nath's scooter cut through the silence and the sickly orange lights of the streetlamps like an interloper. They were crossing the Hutatma Chauk when Vikram asked him to stop.

"What for?"

"It was a long and stressful day. I wanted us a relax a bit at the park bench before we go home."

"I'm not going-"

"Please yaar."

Nath sighed.

Stopping the scooter at side, they both walked to the circle where statue of some forgotten freedom fighter stood, benches around it. Surprisingly, there were some people ambling around. Old couples taking a rest from nightly walk. A group of youngsters.

After having the sound of scooter in the ears for past five minutes, the sudden silence was deafening.

"I don't think Ms Waad would be talking to me again," Vikram Kumar started without preamble, a laughter in his voice.

Nath sighed and ran a hand through in thin hair. "You didn't do any-"

"No no, oh god no! I just said I'm not interested. I think that was enough for her to be offended."

"She's not your type?" he probed gently, curious.

Vikram was silent for a moment and then burst out with sudden emotion, "Why does it matter? Why one single woman and one single man can not stay without having an affair? Ye saala bollywood-" Nath hushed him, noticing the people around.

"Sorry." Vikram said, taking a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I get it. Years ago, when I told my father I was gay-"

"You're what??"

Nath felt like he made a tremendous mistake in judgement. But he was a grown man dammit, he will hold his ground!

"I said I am gay." Nath held his gaze. Vikram Kumar stared back, unknown range of emotions passing. Eventually he broke the gaze, ran a hand through his own balding hair and sat back.

He shook his head. "I am not gay, if that's why you-"

"That wasn't-"

"I'm NOT. I like women. I- I mean men are good too. I. I don't-"

Nath couldn't help it. He broke into a loud laugh. Like Vikram had performed some excellent comedy sketch.

Vikram punched him lightly on his shoulder, a smile evident on his face.

"I just meant, men, women. All are same to me. Honestly, I didn't mind being married to Sheela. I provided for her, I cared for her wellbeing. Our.. bedroom relations were less ideal but I didn't shut her out. I did my duty."

"I'm guessing she wanted someone who didn't see her as a duty?"

Vikram shrugged. "She was nice about it. Told me plain and simple she found someone else. We didn't have kids. It was easy. Well. As easy as it could be. She told the court I was impotent for swift divorce. I agreed. It caused drama in families though, which is why I asked for a transfer."

"Mrs Bhagwan died at a really opportune moment then."

They both shared a laugh and things fell silent once again.

"So you are... one of those," Vikram tried to say casually.

The elderly couple had left. A newly wed looking one took their place. Nath suddenly felt he was thrown back in time.

"I don't have much family," he started. "Mother died when I was young. Theirs was a love marriage, quite unusual for the times. They had run away and so had lost their families. My father raised me well enough; started pestering me for marriage when I got the job at 22. I kept avoiding for few years. But eventually I had to tell him. I wasn't going to ruin some poor woman's life." Nath looked pointedly at Vikram. Vikram didn't take offence. Just laughed self-consciously. Mark in his favour etc etc.

"Father raged for days. Didn't raise his hand on me, didn't tell anyone else but we fought a lot. It wasn't that he denied my condition. He just wanted a family. On some level we understood each other. I realise it now. I knew he wanted me to marry because he didn't want his hard fought family to die with me. And I guess, he probably knew what it meant to love someone you weren't supposed to.

He died soon after."

"When you were thirty, I remember you telling me."

Nath nodded. "I was free. I had a place of my own. A job. No family to hide myself from. I felt guilty over feeling relieved. I felt angry at being guilty. Then came sadness over being angry. That sadness stayed for a decade."

Vikram asked, "So you never...?

Nath shook out of his trip to memory lane. "Hm?"

"Are you? A bramhachari? Did you ever find-"

"There were some men here and there. Obviously there wasn't going to be a relationship," Nath scoffed. "If you know where to look, you can find release. But after Father died, I don't know, I rarely ever went looking for anybody. I didn't have it in me."

Vikram laughed. "Look at us. Two old men, all on their own, no happy family for us."

"Speak for yourself, I'm barely a day over 40," said the man, almost 50.

Vikram laughed again, looking at him with such fondness in his eyes. Nath felt sharp fear for a moment. Then he decided to be an adult again.

"You look well for your age too."

"Nath..."

Nath shivered at hearing his name. It was an intimate name. People didn't say it much. But it fit in Vikram's mouth.

"I don't want to change anything," Vikram said. "I'm happy as things are. It's ideal. I can't offer anything more."

Nath got up, brushing dust from his pants. It had gotten late. They were alone at the circle. A vehicle passing by to remind them of the world that exists.

"I'll take whatever you can offer," he said, looking away from him.

"Friendship? For as long as I live?" Vikram held out his hand.

Nath looked at it. Big, warm. Hairy. Pale skin where the wedding ring used to sit. He extended his own and took it.

"As long as I live."

... Let me know if you like it enough to see some other prompts involving them... I have so many headcanons for them.

[frogtanii]

confusion.

that’s all daichi felt as he stumbled from yachi’s office after he finished his interview, the dim light coming from the sunset washing the hallway in a layer of color.

he wasn’t sure what to expect at first when he’d been called in, the previous members downright refusing to share what they’d discussed, but he had heard whispers that whatever you talked about was... bad.

you’d disappeared into your room after your interview, refusing to let anyone but atsumu in and even then, atsumu came out of his time with you looking worse for wear. neither of you joined the rather tense game night and it was clear the others were worried, but daichi just couldn’t understand why.

why were all the other house members (besides osamu) suddenly so invested in you and your well-being? contrary to popular belief, daichi was not dumb — he knew this was a long time coming, more of the people who he thought were his friends abandoning him to join you.

well maybe not just you, but they seemed to spend an awful lot of time and energy on the woman who’d destroyed meiko’s life. he just couldn’t make sense of it.

he was even more thrown when sugawara, his best friend, joined the trend and stopped talking to him, supporting you to the fullest and avoiding him at every turn. it felt wrong, somehow, that koushi was no longer by his side but he didn’t know what to do about it.

they clearly had a difference in beliefs — sugawara was hard pressed to believe that meiko was some kind of horrible person and daichi... well daichi loved her. he knew he did.

these thoughts overwhelmed him to the point where he was unable to sleep, tossing and turning while his mind raced to unravel the mystery of what was going on in the house.

“fuck,” daichi sighed as he glanced over at his alarm clock with bleary eyes. it read 2:57a and he let out a loud groan. there was no way he’d be able to sleep like this. he wracked his brain for something, anything, to help and he came up with a memory of akaashi telling him that a warm mug of chamomile would send anyone right to sleep.

letting out another sigh, daichi stood to his feet and trudged out of his room and towards the kitchen, ready to finally get some aid but as he approached, the sound of soft voices hit his ears.

on the couch sat you and koushi; you were wearing an oversized shirt (that must have belonged to bokuto) and colorful pajama pants (his guess was that they were kenma’s) and koushi was wearing old sweats and a hoodie. he looked shaken up about something, his eyes rimmed red as he muttered something to you, whatever was said prompting you to reach out and pull him into a hug.

daichi felt like he was intruding and severely out of place, his mind screaming at him to just turn around and go back to his room but he knew if he did, he’d never sleep, his mind full of even more questions than he had before.

so instead, he chose to clear his throat loudly as he walked further into the room, the sound frightening the both of you and causing you to let go of one another.

you shot daichi an uneasy, tired smile as you stood, before patting koushi on the shoulder and leaving the room. sugawara watched you go the entire time with metaphorical stars in his eyes and his heart on his sleeve. daichi repressed the urge to roll his eyes, instead turning toward the kitchen to prepare himself some tea.

to his surprise, sugawara didn’t leave the room. he actually made his way to the kitchen and sat at the counter, watching daichi fill up the kettle and place it on the stove.

the silence wasn’t awkward or oppressive but it was heavy, the unasked questions hanging over them in the air. it was daichi who chose to break it.

“so, what was that about?” he winced at the state of his voice, cracky and weak but he powered through, chancing a glance at his old friend.

sugawara looked tired but also defeated, like he was simultaneously expecting that question and wishing that it hadn’t been asked. “i was apologizing.”

daichi knew he was staring incredulously now but he couldn’t help it. suga was apologizing? for what? what could he possibly apologize for? when he voiced this, koushi scoffed and turned away.

“are you kidding? we have so much to apologize for. we all treated her like shit.”

“but doesn’t she deserve that? she hurt meiko deeply!”

“nobody deserves what we did! nobody! god, daichi, yn has done so much for me and—“

“like what, hm? what exactly has she done for you?”

“i... i can’t tell you that.”

“can’t or won’t?”

the room fell into silence, a stark contrast to the shouting that had been taking place just moments before. both men were warring with themselves and suga was the one to give in.

“meiko assaulted me, okay? is that what you wanted to hear?” koushi’s voice sounded so weak, so broken, and daichi saw red.

“...what?” the words were uttered low and disbelieving as daichi clenched his hands into fists to keep them from quivering with rage.

suga ran a hand through his sliver locks before shaking his head. “i really don’t want to talk about this with you, daichi.”

“but you’ll talk about it with her.”

“fuck off, that’s not fair and you know it,” koushi spat, pushing himself to his feet as he was readying himself to leave. he looked so hurt that daichi couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his arm gently.

“i know... i’m sorry,” he spoke quietly, his brown eyes shining with unshed tears and sincerity. he just wanted suga to open up to him, for them to go back to the way they used to be but he was different now. they both were.

koushi shook his head softly and gingerly removed himself from daichi’s hold. “i’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he whispered before turning and disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

daichi was alone. again. he sniffed and wiped his eyes to get rid of any residual tears as he moved back to the kitchen to finish making his tea. not that it would do him any good—the information he was just given would definitely keep him up until morning.

he was having a difficult time processing what had just occurred and yet, he knew he was in the wrong on multiple occasions. he’d abandoned his best friend in his time of need and sided with his attacker. daichi couldn’t even claim that he was suga’s friend anymore with what he’d done. no, he’d earn back his place. he just needed to figure out how to make things right.

whatever it takes.

℗ poker face

whatever it takes

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - daichi arc start! skdjjd anw this chapter is a lil wack??? but i hope it at least gets the point across lmfaoo oh n daisuga are working out their issues! s not as cut n dry as the other friendships were but i think this way adds more ~flavor~ hehe don’t forget to feed me!! <:333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[tchallasbabymama]

The Temple- Chapter 1/?

N’Jadaka x OC

A/N: I thought this was going to be a two parter, but now it’s looking like maaaaybe 3? I’m just now getting back into my writing and forgot how longwinded I can be lol. Enjoy! 

CW: short mention of suicidal ideation

Previous chapter: Prologue

3256 Words

N’Jadaka’s eyes blinked open and he was met with yet another day in Wakanda. This one was a little different than all his other mornings there because it was the first time he got to wake up in his own bed in his own quarters (outside of that one day he was king.) N’Jadaka had spent the last three months in a psychiatric treatment facility working on his anger and mental health issues. When he woke up after the civil war he caused he was livid. He had wanted to die on that mountain and unfortunately the feeling didn’t leave him until about a month into his treatment. He felt he had nothing to live for since his entire life’s work had gone up in flames before his eyes. He accomplished his one goal in life only to have it snatched back from him a day later. Everything important to him in his life had been taken from him and he felt he had nothing else to live for, so his cousin, King T’Challa, arranged for N’Jadaka to spend some time at Ithemba Center for Mental Wellness. 

He would never admit it out loud, but N’Jadaka was scared to go to Ithemba. He thought his stint as king would have turned Wakandans against him, but it did the opposite. The royal family had decided that transparency was the best policy and did a press conference explaining the entire situation to the people. T’Challa explained what had happened between his father and uncle, what the prince’s life had been like up to that point, and the fact that while he did usurp the throne he did it the right way according to Wakandan law so he wouldn't be charged with treason. The people of Wakanda were shocked, but welcomed their new prince with open arms. He wasn’t aware of the new developments because he was still resting in a healing pod in Shuri’s lab at the time, but when he went to Ithemba he was surprised to find out that everybody already knew him and was more than willing to help him. N’Jadaka hadn’t received that much care and attention since he was a child and he didn't really know how to handle it. It took him weeks to learn how to open himself to others, and it wasn’t until his last month of treatment that he even began opening himself up to the other patients in group therapy.

N’Jadaka’s main therapist was a woman named Ife. She reminded him so much of his mother that he had almost no choice but to open himself to her, crying in her lap during their first couple sessions. Ife had been incredibly patient with the emotional yet emotionally repressed prince, allowing him to work through his overwhelming feelings of anger, sadness, and hurt. 

His time with Ife and the other patients at the center had been incredibly healing and he felt like a new man. He still felt like he had a ways to go, and he could tell he needed something, but couldn’t figure out what. His healing didn’t feel anywhere close to being done.

A knock at the door interrupted his morning laziness.

“Ngena.”

In walked the king of Wakanda flanked by two of his Dora Milaje, who he politely dismissed to stand outside the door. He walked across the room and sat in the plush velvet wingback chair by the full bookshelves.

“Sup man?” N’Jadaka barely opened his eyes to speak to his cousin. The bed was too comfortable.

“My apologies cousin, did I wake you?”

“Nah I’m up, this bed just won’t let me go.”

T’Challa chuckled at his cousin’s laziness. He completely understood, the beds were the most comfortable beds he’d experienced in all of his travels and time abroad in school. 

“I just wanted to formally invite you to attend breakfast at 9. It’s casual, just family and whatever few friends are staying in the palace with us at the time. M’Baku will be joining us today.”

“The gorilla nigga?”

T’Challa tried and failed to stifle his laughter, which quickly spread to his slightly younger cousin.

“Yes the gorilla nigga.”

“Ooooh I’m telling M’Baku you said that. Better yet, I’m telling Auntie.”

“I’d really rather you not.”

N’Jadaka chuckled and wondered if this is how it always would’ve been if they had grown up together. The thought was more bitter than sweet, so he pushed it aside for the time being. 

“Maybe just this once.”

T’Challa grinned at his cousin and he also wondered how life would’ve been had they known each other their whole lives.

“Thank you. Oh and get up, it’s already 8:30” T’Challa stood and walked towards the door.

“These damn beds…” N’Jadaka shook his head and reluctantly flung the sheet back and swung his legs over the side of his bed, completely forgetting he slept naked. He rushed to cover himself in the king’s presence.

“Shit, my bad, man.” 

“For…?”

“Nigga I got my dick swinging!”

“You’re sorry for being naked? Wh- oh that’s right. We aren’t puritanical like you are used to in America. Nudity isn't scandalous here, it’s just a body. But I will leave and let you get ready. See you, umzala.”

N’Jadaka stood there shocked. He knew of Wakandan culture, but experiencing it was going to be an adjustment. Just how different were they? They were never affected by colonization so the oppressive white supremacist ideology wouldn’t exist there. He had a lot of unlearning to do and a lot of questions to ask his family.

He eventually shook himself out of his thoughts and made his way to the en suite bathroom. He turned on the shower using the touchpad and the water fell from the ceiling like rain. He scrubbed down in the vanilla chai body wash he had requested and afterwards he covered his skin in shea butter. He walked into his enormous closet and stood there overwhelmed at the choices. His inner child wanted to throw a fit for everything he’d missed out on, but N’Jadaka took a deep breath to center himself before walking over to the section of clothes that he recognized. He was so nervous about breakfast he almost dressed to impress, but then he remembered T’Challa’s words and casual outfit. He grabbed his Lost Tribe hoodie and threw on his favorite black jeans and his Timbs. He swooped all his locs to one side of his head and threw on his gold glasses. N’Jadaka took a deep breath and walked towards the door.

“Chill out...it’ll be fine.”

The guards stationed outside his door directed him to the dining room where he was met with the smiling faces of his family members. Ramonda was the first to notice he’d entered the room..

“Mholo, umtshana!”

She met him for a hug and kissed his cheek. He smiled so hard his dimples looked deeper than ever and he hugged her back.

“Mornin, Auntie. T, Lil Bit, Charlie’s Angel, Big Man.” N’Jadaka greeted his cousins, Nakia, and M’Baku.

Yet again, T’Challa failed to stifle a laugh, which he tried to play off with a cough. Nakia lightly backhanded his chest and sucked her teeth at him. 

“Little bit? Don't start with me, bubble wrap!”

“Who is Charlie and why am I their angel?”

“That is not my name.”

Shuri, Nakia, and M’Baku spoke over each other.

Thankfully the queen mother was there to settle the children down right as the food was being brought out. N’Jadaka looked at the table and was surprised to see that Ramonda was seated next to T’Challa and that the only empty seat was at the end of the table. 

The king noticed N’Jadaka’s nervousness as he watched him sit down gingerly and take in his surroundings. 

“So N’Jadaka, how was your first night in the palace? Our beds are the most comfortable in the world.”

“Auntie, I almost didn’t come to breakfast. That bed had a hold on me.”

“You must come visit my people sometimes. If you think you sleep good here, wait until you have the crisp mountain air-”

“Nah lemme stop you right there. Crisp is code for cold, and I don't do that shit. Sorry Auntie.”

“I don't do that shit either. When I was staying there I shivered the whole time, even with the beautiful furs and blankets! I’m just not built for the cold.”

N’Jadaka grimaced at the mention of his time as a burgeoning world dictator. He was thankful nobody noticed.

He was also thankful for the large platters of food the kitchen staff came and sat in front of them. They passed the food around the table and soon enough there was silence as everyone dug into what N’Jadaka would later describe as the best meal he ever had.

After breakfast, the three men retired to T’Challa’s office while the princess hurried off to her lab, Nakia disappeared, and Ramonda tended to her garden. 

“So, N’Jadaka...I wanted to talk to you about a few things-”

“Then why is Mighty Joe Young here?”

M’Baku rolled his eyes.

“Again, that is not my name. Who even is this person?”

“It’s a big ass gorilla.”

“Oh- well in that case…”

T’Challa cleared his throat.

“As I was saying. Before anything, we need to address your crowning ceremony. Obviously you are part of the royal family, but by Wakandan law, all royalty must be officially crowned to be able to hold a title. If you would like to be Prince N’Jadaka son of Prince N’Jobu we must have the ceremony.”

N’Jadaka’s voice caught in his throat and his eyes got misty.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

M’Baku put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s good to have you, brother.”

“Good to be here.”

T’Challa fought tears of his own.

“Ok so uh, that’s that. We can hash those details out later. Now, the second thing I wanted to bring up with you is this: M’Baku and Nakia have offered to show you around the merchant tribe here in the city, the river tribe, and Jabariland. Shuri will get you acquainted with the mining tribe, and I will take you out to the border tribe on Wednesday.”

“Aight, sounds like a plan, but I don’t want the surface-level touristy shit.”

T’Challa chuckled.

“Noted. Now, lastly,” T’Challa pulled up a projection of a futuristic yet somehow still modern building next to a basketball court. 

N’Jadaka’s stomach dropped.

“What is this?”

“I want to open our borders to the ‘Lost Tribe’ as you call it. Maybe to the rest of the world eventually, but at the time they are less of a concern. In addition to that, I-”

The king was cut off by Nakia entering the room.

“Perfect time, love.”

“Sorry for being late, this baby runs my life now.”

“I’m getting a baby cousin?!”

Nakia looked at him dryly.

“Yes, N’Jadaka, you are getting a baby cousin.”

He peeped her attitude and settled down. If there was one thing he knew in this world, it was never piss of a pregnant woman.

“So the Outreach Centers, yes. I had actually had the idea for a while, but it took the country almost burning down for this idiot to see I was right. T’Challa had the idea to use your old apartment complex as the first Wakandan Outreach Center. Hopefully if it goes well, we could expand to-”

N’Jadaka zoned out staring at the projection. His vision may not have come true in the way he thought it would, but this would certainly be a step towards the betterment of the lives of Black people everywhere. N’Jadaka couldn't help but grin. 

“I think we lost him…”

“Cousin!”

He snapped out of his daze.

“Yeah I-I like it. Thank you, this really means a lot. One thing though?”

“Yes?”

“I want it dedicated to my pops.”

T’Challa smiled and zoomed in on the name above the door. It read “Prince N’Jobu’s Wakandan Outreach Center”. Then he took them on a 3-D tour of the facility, ending with the memorial to N’Jobu in room 1401.

N’Jadaka nearly broke down in tears.

“Cool. Thanks, man. For everything. This is…” N’Jadaka took a deep breath. “Just, thanks…”

The other three Wakandans smiled back at him fondly, an occurrence it seemed he would have to get used to. 

“I’m glad you like it. Now if you three will excuse me, I have work to do.”

Nakia kissed T’Challa’s forehead and left the room.

 “Aight, I need something lighthearted. A nigga is tired of crying. Oh! Actually I got some questions…”

“Ask away.”

“So earlier you mentioned how free and open and shit yall are here...I’m single and haven’t had any in like 6 months so where can I go to find some pussy. Since I’m a prince do I just like, I don't know, have concubines brought to me? I don't know how this works”

M’Baku snorted.

“Clearly.”

N’Jadaka flipped him off while T’Challa answered.

“No, we do not have ‘concubines’ though we do sort of have sex workers, which we can discuss later. You know, it would do you good to read some Wakandan history books...and maybe even some of our sex education material.”

“Ay man, I already know all that.”

“Not the way we teach it. Plus our birth control is better here.”

“More effective?”

“And no side effects. Trust me, you’ll want to visit the library at the end of the hall, cousin.”

N’Jadaka considered his suggestion and made a mental note to check out the library later that day.

“Yes, maybe you’ll learn a thing or two,” M’Baku chimed in.

“My guy, I know how sex works! I’m just curious about the culture surrounding sex. T, you said y'all aren’t puritanical like America...expand on that.”

“Well the list of books I just sent to your beads would be able to cover this in greater detail than I can at the moment, but basically every preconceived notion you have about sex, gender, attraction, etc. has been tainted by colonialism as a means of control over the population.”

“Hanuman…”

“Yeah I know that, I guess I just can’t really conceptualize a world without all that sexism and homophobia and shit.”

“What is homophobia?” M’Baku asked, genuinely confused. The cousins answered at the same time.

“When people hate gay niggas.”

“The hatred of, or at least the disdain for, those who are attracted to their same gender.”

“And we ain't even getting into the people who aren't men or women, that shit blows people's minds.”

“Why?”

The cousins continued to explain the outside world to M’Baku for what felt like hours. T’Challa looked at the clock and stood.

“Well gentlemen, as...depressing as this conversation has been, we must get to the council meeting.”

“I need a drink after that. The strongest Jabari mead!”

“Yeah imagine living with that shit for 30 years then coming here. I’m not gonna know how to act.”

“You’ll learn.”

The three made their way to the council meeting and N’Jadaka had never been so bored in all of his life. He started nodding off at one point and M’Baku elbowed him in his side when he started to snore. When it was finally over they parted ways and N’Jadaka headed to the library. He had plenty of reading to do.

He started with the Wakandan history books reading about the lives of his ancestors. His fathers stories had given him a good foundation to build on, but what he found in the books blew his mind. 

Wakandans can trace their history for thousands of years, all the way back to the time of the great Bashenga, the first Black Panther. Growing up as a Black American, N’Jadaka had no connection to his mother’s family history because there was no record. When the Lost Tribe was enslaved and brought to the west, they were recorded as cargo, not people. The enslavers didn’t care about their names or where they came from, and when they got to shore their families continued to be ripped apart and sold to the highest bidder. They weren’t allowed to play drums and congregate, they weren’t allowed to read, they weren’t allowed to marry. There was no written record of his people, and the most they could go on was family bibles which almost never went back before the mid 1800s. 

N’Jadaka was overwhelmed with the information, so he decided to switch to something else and come back to the history books later. He picked up “Intimacy and Sex” by Ami Nbunda and flipped through the pages. He skimmed the table of contents and was surprised by what he saw.

The first chapter was on anatomy, but it actually included intersex people instead of just focusing on male and female bodies. The next chapter was about loving and respecting yourself and others, but not in the slut-shaming way of the outside world. The next few chapters were on the mental and emotional sides of intimacy, and the last few were on birth control, sexual health, attraction, healthy communication, and more resources. 

The prince couldn’t believe what he was seeing as he flipped through the pages. He stopped on a full-color photo of a vulva with all the parts labeled.

“This is for kids? Damn, we really living in two different worlds. America would never.”

He turned the page and saw a to-scale model of the entire clitoris, and his eyes bugged out of his head. 

“That shit’s a whole wishbone…”

He continued to read through the pages in awe. M’Baku was right, he was learning a thing or two.

N’Jadaka spent the whole day in the library reading book after book on everything he could get his hands on. If it hadn’t been for his guards alerting him to the time, he would’ve missed dinner. He grabbed the last two books and went to drop them in his quarters before heading to dinner.

“Umzala, have you been in the library this whole time?”

“Yeah man, it’s a lot to take in. I might have to take that sex ed book back to the states.”

“We plan on doing just that at the Outreach Centers. Comprehensive sex education is a necessity, and since your government prefers to keep people in the dark about how their own bodies work it will be our job to educate those who come through our doors. All but the last chapter, of course.” 

T’Challa winked and N’Jadaka felt like he had missed something.

“You mean the resources? Makes sense, those books wouldn't be available outs-”

“Not the books, dear, the Temple.” Ramonda chimed in.

“The what? I ain't got that far yet.”

Shuri rounded the corner and N’Jadaka expected the conversation to stop, but no.

“Remember earlier when you asked about concubines and I said we have sex workers?”

Ramonda cut her eyes at N’Jadaka as he nodded.

“Well that term doesn’t quite encompass what they do. They are sexual healers blessed by Bast herself and they reside in the Temple of Healing on the outskirts of the city near the Land of the Dead. They are known as the Daughters of Bast.”

“Now I feel bad for calling them concubines.”

“You should.” Ramonda said as she slapped him upside the head.

“Ow Auntie, damn”

T’Challa was thankful that his mother had someone else to fuss over, and he chuckled.

“I think it would be a good idea for you to pay them a visit. They are healers, after all.”

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