#tumblr said I ran out of space in the text box and told me to shut the fuck up :[

[4filen0tfound4]

hey can you do a character analysis/comparison on zonic and shard to find out what silver likes in his men

Cries. They’re both stupid guys who piss her off idk. Real analysis tho

Ok Ok so Shard and Zonic have completely different origins. One was created purely to cause chaos and the other was created purely for order and stability.

However, they’re both Sonic. Yet how they view that is also entirely different. Ever since Shard was just “Metal Sonic” his entire purpose was not only to live up to him (power wise), but to best him. After he was rebuilt, he wanted nothing more but to live up to Sonic. Sure he could match with him power wise, but he couldn’t just copy and paste his exact personality and friend groups. I think his entire arc was him becoming his own person and realizing he’s more than just Metal or Sonic. With Zonic, he knows he’s just like Sonic, and even believes that he can beat him if he really needed to. Due to his origins, he feels superior to Sonic, while Shard looks down on his origins as it’s the exact cause of his insecurities. I believe, despite these differences, their core values and personalities are very similar. Zonic puts up this serious front for the sake of a mission, but it barely lasts that long. They’re both so. GOOFY. They make terrible puns nobody laughs at besides themselves and can act cheeky if they believe they’re better than whoever they’re being cheeky with. They’re also quick to act. Like a pathetic wet cat. The moment their insecurities are exposed and if there’s a doubt in their mind they fumble. I think it affects Zonic more than Shard, because he’s so used to being so sure of himself that if something goes wrong, it messes him up like crazy. Thissss is what also affects how they interact with Sonic. Despite his superiority complex, Zonic is really dependent on Sonic. This can stem off of his own fears that are now eased when he works along Sonic, or just the fact that Sonic is from the Prime Zone and without Sonic there’s literally no. Purpose for him. No matter what, Sonic is the OG and Zonic is the copy. His entire world is structured after Sonic’s and made to protect and defend Sonic’s. Shard has the exact same dilemma concerning Sonic, but it’s now taken from a more personal level (which I rlly enjoy and makes the comparison more fun) His interactions after he was rebuilt started out tense, but through the development of friendship and his displays of kindness, he was able to become Sonic’s friend. I’m not gonna say Zonic and Sonic didn’t develop a friendship bc they definitely did, but Sonic put trust in Zonic *after* Zonic revealed he was him. It was more like a “I have to trust you bc you are me even tho I can’t always agree with you” then develop a friendship rather than “You have to earn my trust because I never had any for you in the first place” like it was for Shard

BUT WHATEVER WHO CARES AB SONIC LETS TALK AB SILVER !!! Shard and Silver had more of a one sided enemy thing going on. Silver wasn’t there to make friends, but ended up making friends anyway because idk this is sonic the hedgehog. They were very. Brash and rude to each other, but Shard was clearly having fun teasing and messing with Silv while Silv was debating on killing him like half the time (I’m getting lazy just reread the wiki page like the rest of us) Because Zonic fucking DIED and every zone was erased besides the prime zone (which was a fucking LIE bc of the silver age and like several other issues but whatever) Silv and Zonic never interacted howeverrrr it’s easy to predict how they’ll interact. Silv, unless told that he could trust him in the beginning and that they need to work together, would be hostile and probably bite him ngl. Zonic, esp after the Silver Age, would probably arrest Silver. This would cause Silver to be on edge and they would probably fight a lot. Zonic would win but not rlly bc Silver doesn’t stop fighting that’s like his thing. I still think that although their fights would like strain their relationship, they would end up becoming allies due to having a similar goal and a similar way to attain it. Also thank god Silver is finally partnered with someone who wouldn’t blink if told he needs to kill someone in order to maintain order. They both have the same job and morals, so if they ever got over their differences then they would probably make a good team. So um TLDR Silver likes guys that he hates and finds annoying and only get in her way, only to find out it’s a good kind of annoying and they can rlly be her friends. They’re just like me fr

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x reader)

Summary: Reader tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the past two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week.

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up.

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Y/N’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner.

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Y/N never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Y/N was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now.

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again.

No new messages.

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something.

…

Y/N dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles.

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him.

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag.

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left.

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling.

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper.

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath.

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Y/N breathed.

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?”

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.”

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Y/N laughed wetly. “Oh my god , mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted.

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Y/N ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Y/N admitted, tears spilling over her lash line.

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost 40 years.”

Y/N heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.”

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Y/N hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf.

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?”

Y/N dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled.

Y/N closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Y/N swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Y/N could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Y/N’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Y/N.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered.

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Y/N heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.”

Y/N listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope.

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.”

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Y/N the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes.

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response.

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his.

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on.

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.”

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.”

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done.

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.”

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way.

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long?

“And then I met you, and you…” Y/N let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough?

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted.

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too.

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself.

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.”

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air.

“Y/N, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed.

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair.

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.”

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered.

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Y/N nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath.

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.”

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again.

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Y/N. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.”

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes. “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.”

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his skin. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head.

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.”

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.”

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.”

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself.

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice.

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered.

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation.

Y/N took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes tracked the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman— and smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast, and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple.”

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Y/N.

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.”

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane that I stayed with him for five years, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was... that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on— when someone tells you you’re nothing… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now.

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I’ve had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I’ve been able to recognize the moments when I’m falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there , and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no .” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and over his heart. “And then he just— left . And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but then you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Y/N dissolved back into the couch, an unwelcome indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.”

She gave him a weary nod, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.”

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check and find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.”

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with her.

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.”

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.”

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you... I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.”

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered.

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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[childishfluff]

Little Kitten- [TommyInnit Pet Regression Oneshot]

Pet Regressor/Kitten!TommyInnit, CGs/Handlers!Wilbur and Tubbo

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten. He liked cat ears and playing with balls of yarn, and curling up in a little ball to take a nap. None of this was a problem until Wilbur and Tubbo came to stay at his house for a week, and he had to hide both a littlespace, *and* a kittenspace. And when Tubbo continuously calls him a "kitten" due to his results on a stupid internet "what animal am I" quiz, and Wilbur literally pets him while cuddling, he realizes he wasn't going to last a day. He was simply a little kitten. And now his friends knew that. -- This is non-sexual, sfw age+pet regression, dni if your nsfw/abdl/ageplay/petplay/cgl/ect. If any of the creators included in this work say *anything* about being uncomfy with fan fiction/of agere content including them, I will take this down and/or modify it appropriately. If they have already said something that I'm unaware of, please let me know.

A/N: so I was reading some tommy centric fics and the idea of Catboy!Tommy popped in my head, which eventually evolved into Kitten Regressor!Tommy as I brainstormed and this 4000-something oneshot happened. To my knowledge, there are no other pet regression fics in this fandom, and this is my first pet regression fic. If I misrepresented something, or you just wanna tell me something cool about pet regression in the comments, feel free too lmk in the reblogs/replies/in my ask box after reading!

For those who don't know, pet regression is similar to age regression. Pet Space (kittenspace,puppyspace,ect) is a separate headspace that someone can slip into, where they act like a different critter or creature. It can be used for all the same reasons as agere, and the online communities overlap a ton! You can look into it more, but that's the gist of it! It's nonsexual, safe for minors, and it ISN'T P3TPL@Y! also warning for a very brief mention of kinks and "getting off" (tommy basically saying that he's not into petplay) at the beginning.

--

Tommy liked feeling small. But more then that, he liked feeling like a small kitten.

Figuring this out was confusing for him. Even after discovering why he liked acting like a toddler sometimes, and why it helped him, he had to figure out why he also found comfort in pretending to be an animal. At first, he thought that this cutesy cat-like headspace was just him playing around while little, pretending to be one of his favorite creatures.

But then, he noticed how different his behaviors were when he got like this versus when he was just being a kid. It was really annoying, because he could research anything without stumbling across kinks that he was sure he wasn't into.

Just because the thought of wearing cat ears and curling up in someones lap and being pet softly made him happy, didn't mean he got off on it. Eventually, though, he discovered pet regression.

The pet regression community was overlapped, heavily, with the age regression and age dreaming ones he already secretly took part in. He was shocked he hadn't stumbled across it during his late-night scrollings through the "littlespace" tumblr tags.

Just like when he discovered his littlespace, he bought things online with money saved up from streaming, telling his family it was supplies for a video, and created a secret little box that sat under his bed for whenever he wanted to indulge in that headspace. Choker necklaces that resembled kitty collars, cat ears, certain sensory toys, different snacks.

Now, none of this would be a problem, if it wasn't for the fact that Wilbur and Tubbo coming over to stay at his house for a week while his parents were on vacation. Yes, he had pushed to stay home, preferring that he was babysat by someone he saw as his older brother, instead of being forced to go on a boring trip and go on a forced streaming break.

But he didn't quite think out how he'd pull off not regressing in front of either of the two of his friends, for a whole week. Tommy regressed the most when his parents weren't home, and now he couldn't do that.

All he could do is hope that he wouldn't slip, and that they wouldn't discover either of the two boxes under his bed. He'd quickly find that that was really hard when he had two friends that constantly teased and babied him.

"So, what should we do this week? Besides streaming and gaming, of course," Tubbo questioned from his spot where he laid on Tommy's bed, staring up at the ceiling. Tommy shrugged, spinning a bit in his gaming chair.

His parents had left a few hours ago to catch their flight, after Tubbo and Wilbur were dropped off early that morning. Tubbo had gotten settled, and Wilbur took the responsibility of making them lunch. So now, the two teenagers sat in Tommy's bedroom.

"I don't know. We'll obviously film some videos," Tommy spoke casually, biting the inside of his cheek. All the excitement and anticipation had worn off, and now they were bored. Yeah, they could start a stream or boot up a game, but it felt right to just enjoy each others company. They had sat in silence for a while, their previous conversation falling off when they ran out of things to say, until one of them tried to start another.

Tubbo had gone through a lot of trouble with his parents to be there, doing everything he could to convince them that Wilbur was responsible enough to watch over him for a week. Tommy wasn't just gonna shove a mic in his face and tell him to entertain his twitch viewers.

"I have an idea!" Toby gasped, sitting up suddenly.

"What is it?" Tommy laughed a bit at his sudden realization, and how his friend had replied to it.

"We should take online quizzes together," he suggested. "Hogwarts house, personality type, whatever you want, and compare our results. You in?" he questioned, standing up and coming over to sit in the wooden chair to the left of Tommy's.

For now, the blonde had two of his kitchen chairs in his room, so that the three men could huddle up together at his PC for streams throughout the next week. "Sure," Tommy nodded a bit, booting up his computer.

"We should start with the Hogwarts House quiz, don't ya think?" Tubbo asked, watching him open his browser.

"Sounds good to me," Thomas agreed, following his suggestion and searching up the desired quiz.

After a handful of quizzes, most of which Tommy deemed "inaccurate" due to results that didn't make any sense to him, they took a "what animal are you" quiz. Tommy knew what his results would be, he's taken tests like this a million times.

It'd most likely label him as a cat. He figured that Tubbo would be none the wiser, clicking through the test and answering honestly. He was a little taken aback when the result screen specifically told him that he was a "kitten".

"Aww," Toby cooed in a teasing voice. "I thought that you might've gotten 'cat', but kitten? That's so cute." he laughed a bit.

"It's probably because they just put kitten in place for cat," Tommy scoffed, hoping with every ounce of his soul that he was pulling off the "shocked and annoyed" act, which he hoped covered up his nervousness.

"Let's see," Tubbo took control of the mouse, click on the drop down arrow next to the blue text that read 'All Possible Results'. "See! There is an option for cat, and it called you a kitten!" he cheered, causing Tommy to roll his eyes a bit.

"Whatever," he said, "It said you were a Golden Retriever, so..."

"Tom-Tom's a little kitty!" Tubbo ignored his statement, talking loudly in a sing songy voice. Tommy knew that he wasn't doing this to be mean, and that he was just joking around, but it did hurt a bit. Because he was a kitten sometimes, and it felt like his friend was making fun of it.

"I'm not sure what you're talking about, but the food is ready," Wilbur's voice joined the conversation, the older man suddenly appearing in Tommy's doorway. Tommy jumped to defend himself, but Tubbo got there first.

"We took an online quiz that said Tommy was a kitten! 'Cat' was an option, but it said that he was a little kitty," he laughed again.

"Oh, don't tease him." Wilbur said, "Those tests are crap anyway, I'm sure there was a question you misunderstood or something." he claimed as he came closer to them, standing behind the two chairs as he looked at Tommy's monitor. He could tell that the teasing was making Tommy a bit uncomfortable.

He didn't know why for sure, figuring that it had something to do with being called a 'kitten' feeling to childish for him. "Maybe," Tommy agreed, looking up to Wilbur thankfully. Tubbo must've realized that he accidentally upset Tommy when Wilbur intervened and Tommy immediately seemed relieved, because the next thing he did was apologize.

"I'm sorry, Tommy," he spoke up. "I was just teasing, I didn't mean to upset you."

"It's all good," Tommy smiled a bit, shrugging, feeling a little better with the reassurance that it was all just a joke. "Most of the tests were crap anyways."

The three of them shifted their conversation to other topics, making their way out to the kitchen to eat the food Wilbur made. Later on, they all gathered up blankets and pillows and snacks to watch movies in the living room.

Tommy was a little worried that the Disney movie Wilbur picked would make him go into littlespace, but that seemed to be the least of his worries as they tried to figure out their cuddling positions for the movie. Of course, they didn't need to cuddle, but it seemed that they all silently agreed that they would be.

"I wanna lay down," Tommy whined, re positioning a pillow near one end of the couch.

"Come here, you crybaby," Wilbur ordered, grabbing his arm. Tubbo was curled up to Wilbur's side, one of the older mans arms around him as he settled into the warmth of the embrace.  Wilbur guided him into laying down so that his head was in his lap, a few layers of soft fabric between their skin.

Tommy didn't fight against this, blushing just a bit as he curled up, letting Wilbur lay a blanket over him. "Is this okay?" he asked in a soft voice, looking down as him. Tommy nodded softly, glancing up at him for a moment before he looked away shyly. Why was he so bashful right now?

"Cuddly," he mumbled simply, settling into the position mindlessly. Wilbur seemed pretty amused by this, using his nails to scratch his scalp, the action not unlike how he'd scratch a kitten's head if one curled up in his lap. Again, Tommy didn't protest, leaning into the touch a bit.

Wilbur continued doing things like this as the movie played, sitting back and lightly petting the boy. He'd play with his hair, or run his fingers over his skin in simple patterns. It was just a cute way of showing affection, and the blonde teenager seemed to enjoy.

Meanwhile, Tommy was holding back kittenspace and trying to focus on the childish movie. His petspace was voluntary, to his knowledge. But Wilbur treating him like a cat, giving him the simple affection he's secretly wanted for so long, made him want to regress to the state of a kitty so bad. He was halfway there already.

He just wished that he could put on his little cat ears. He always looked to cute when he did.

His friends did notice that he stayed very quiet throughout the movie, not really replying to their joked or adding onto their commentary of the movie. They didn't say anything, though, assuming that he was just sleepy earlier than usual, joking amongst themselves as the plot of the movie played out on the screen.

At one point near the end of the movie, Wilbur reached over and scratched the patch of hair closest to Tommy's ear, earning a hum from him. It sounded much closer to a kitten's pur, which shocked Wilbur. He looked over to Tubbo, leaning close to him and whispering, "He really is a little kitten, huh?" as he continued to scratch his scalp.

Toby giggled a bit, nodding in agreement. Tommy seemed to suddenly realize what he was doing when Wilbur pulled his hand away for the time being, cutting out his low hum and burying his now-red face in the blankets across Wilbur's lap.

Wilbur could help but think about how cute he looked doing that, immediately feeling the need to cuddle the boy close and protect him.

Eventually the credits started rolling, and Wilbur told the boys to get off of him. Tubbo did it with little complaining, stretching a bit and standing up with a yawn. Tommy, however, completely lost in his kitten space as this point, whined, pouting.

"I know you're comfy, and probably sleepy, but it's time to get up, Toms." Wilbur told him, fighting against the urge to just push him off the couch. Yes, it'd be funny, but it'd also be mean. Wilbur didn't wanna upset him.

When Tommy didn't reply, remaining curled up with his head in Wilbur's lap, the pet his head softly once again, pushing back the blanket that laid over him a bit. Immediately, Tommy switched his position so that he was laying on his back, swiping his hand at Wilbur's, scratching him a bit.

Like a playful kitten.

Wilbur gasped, seemingly confused as he tilted his head. He dropped the blanket, pulling the attacked hand to his chest defensively. Tommy didn't hurt him all the much but he did just try to scratch him in response to his blanket be taken away. It was funny, and cute, but also confusing. "Ouch! Why'd you do that?" Wilbur asked, pulling his hand away immediately.

Tommy pouted up at him, not knowing exactly how to verbally apologize. He decided on his next actions, rolling over so that he was on his stomach and stretching out. He then adjusted himself so that he was on his knees and hands, looking at Wilbur with a slight head tilt.

There was still a clear pout on his face, his eyes innocent and cute. "What are you doing?" Wilbur chuckled, not understanding his behavior. He couldn't blame all these absolutely adorable actions on being sleepy, surely. He was acting like a kitten, undeniably.

"He's a kitten!" Tubbo said, coming closer to him and scratching Tommy's head. Tommy nuzzled into his hand as he leaned into the touch. "Pet regression," he remembered the name for it, saying it suddenly a few moments later. "I thought Tommy might've been a little but I didn't know about this."

"What?" Wilbur questioned, only more confused than before.

"I think Tommy's an age regressor, and a pet regressor, too, apparently," Tubbo looked to Tommy for some sort of confirmation. Tommy nodded a bit, shyly, confirming both of his guesses. "He can revert back to the state of a child, and also a kitten! He's in a cat-like headspace, so he's going to act like a baby kitty." Tubbo giggled, wiggling his fingers over Tommy's head and watching as he swatted at it. Toby pulled his hand away at the last second.

"I researched age regression because Tommy was acting a bit childish during a late night call a while back, and came across petre too," Tubbo added. "I was planning on asking him about the little thing while I was here, actually."

Tommy didn't know that Tubbo already knew. If anyone could've guessed, it would've been him. They were best friends. He'd call him a lot when upset, or stressed, to talk about what was bothering him. It wasn't a shock that the main person who saw him when he needed something to help him feel better had started to pick up on the traits that hinted toward the coping skill he used to feel better.

Wilbur seemed to understand. For whatever reason, Tommy liked acting like a cat. It was a sort of headspace that he could get into, that Wilbur must've accidentally triggered. Tubbo continued to play with and pet Tommy, explaining the basics of both age regression and pet regression to Wilbur.

"They can both be done for coping, voluntarily or involuntarily. It seems that all the cuddling and petting made him slip. I think he's nonverbal, too, at least as a kitten," Tubbo said, running his fingers through Tommy's hair. At some point, Tommy had sat down, still playing along and swiping at his hands here and there. Tubbo seemed so excited to play with him, and that made him happy!

"Agere and petre can intersect, too. So he might just act childlike with kitten-qualities mixed in," Tubbo continued to explained. "There's also pet gear and little gear, stuff you use when you get into those headspaces. Do you have any of that, kitty?"

Tommy nodded a bit, reaching over and pressing on Wilbur's shoulder, as if telling him to follow as he stood up. He didn't like traveling on all fours all the time in kittenspace, and would only crawl short distances. Otherwise, he would just walk like he would usually. Maybe skip, if he was in a good mood.

Wilbur followed his nonverbal request, following the two teenagers to Thomas's bedroom. Tommy dropped to the floor next to his bed, Tubbo following suit. Tommy pulled out one of the boxes, Toby grabbing the other. "So what is pet and little gear for?" Wilbur asked, curiously.

"I'm sure Tommy will be willing to tell you more when he's up to talking," Tubbo's words earned a slight nod as the regressor opened the box. "But it's basically stuff to help you according to the headspace your in. Comfort items, childish things for littlespace, stuff to make you feel more like a pet for petre."

"Like cat ears or collars for kittyspace!" he added with a chuckle as Tommy pulled those items out of the box, waving them around as an example. His cat ears were all on headbands. He had white and orange ones, black ones with little ribbons, another set with little bells, he didn't know which ones he wanted.

Tubbo realized that his box was little gear, sliding it back under the bed and focusing on Tommy, who seemed happy.

He bounced in place a bit, very excited and playful now, despite being sleepy before. He was happy! When Tubbo believed that his friend might've been different, instead of judging him, he researched a ton and then jumped in to help him when he needed it. And Wilbur, who didn't completely understand what was happening, was still being supportive, just asking questions.

He thought that they were gonna weird about it, or judge him. But here Tubbo was, playing with him and answering questions for him because he understood his nonverbalism. "When will he be....not a cat, anymore?" Wilbur pondered.

"Depends. Regression can last a few minutes to a few days, who knows. But while he's like this, we should make him comfortable, don't ya think?"

Wilbur hummed a bit. He could ask more questions later, directly to his friend that actually experienced this stuff and would be able to tell him more. For now, he'd do his best to make Tommy comfortable, like Toby had said.

Tommy grabbed the cat ears with the bells, white furred ones with pink inside the ear, little pink bows and gold bells on them. He shook it in his hand, like a rattle, listening to the music it made. He made a squeak that sounded suspiciously like a "meow", before giggling. "Did you cat those ears, Tommy?" Wilbur asked, softly taking the headband from him.

Tommy pouted, nodding as the ears were taken from his very pa- hands. He wasn't actually a kitten, he had human hands. He giggled at his own thoughts, snapping out of it when he felt the headband slip onto his head. Wilbur adjusted it.

"There." he stopped after a second, looking him up and down. "You're adorable," he complimented. Tommy blushed, smiling. He looked back down to the box, pulling out a white choker, which had another pink ribbon in the front, with a larger, silver bell hanging from it. He immediately put it on, fiddling with the bell.

"Did you wanna change? There's some clothes in that box," Tubbo asked. As expected, Tommy didn't verbally reply, digging through his box and pulling out a white adult onesie, designed to resemble a real baby one. It was plain, with pink lining, obviously picked out to go with the choker and cat ears.

"Aww," Wilbur cooed, immediately. "You want the onesie, sweetheart?"

Tommy nodded a bit, also grabbing pastel pink shortalls. He might've been happy, and seemingly comfortable, but he was not walking around in just a onesie. "That'll look cute together," Tubbo approved of his outfit choice. Tommy grabbed a few more things from the box, either setting it in a pile, or holding it in his arms.

He left to go to the bathroom, pushing the box back under the bed and leaving without another word. "What all did he pull out?" Tubbo asked, looking to the pile with curiosity.

"A stuffed kitten," Wilbur stated, looking at the white stuffed toy. "It seems that he dressed up to look like this toy," he chuckled. Tubbo laughed, too. "Uh, there's a ball of yarn, and a little white ball?" he sounded curious, picking it up. Quickly, Wilbur realized that it rattled.

"Oh, he likes things that make sounds," Tubbo reasoned. "Rattles and bells. That's cute," Tubbo smiled. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, a pink scarf." Wilbur replied. "Does he just play with anything?" he laughed.

"Isn't that what actual cats do? They scratch at and play with anything in sight," Tubbo joked.

"Fair enough."

They kept talking until they heard shuffling by the door. There, stood Tommy, clad in his cute little, perfectly planned-out outfit. Just his presence earned coos from his friends, who immediately complimented him. "You look so adorable, kitten!" Wilbur said, motioning him over. Tommy approached them, dropping to his knees and hands when he got close to them, 'pouncing' across the carpet.

He giggled, returning to his previous sitting position next to his pile, grabbing the stuffed kitty. "You look just like your toy, y'know." Tubbo told him. Tommy smiled wide, as if he was proud of this fact, nodding quickly. He wore knee-high socks with his out, white and pink striped to match the rest of the outfit. It seemed he took pride in color-coordinated, cute outfits, unlike when he was in his usual headspace. He usually just threw on a baseball shirt and jeans.

"She kitty, and m' kitty too," he mumbled, speaking for the first time since entering his kitten space earlier that day. He didn't talk much in kittenspace, he always had to pull himself into an "in-between" headspace to do so, but he could if he wanted or had to.

"Aww, the kitty can talk. Yes, you are both very adorable kittens," Wilbur cooed from his spot next to the regressor, wrapping his arms around him. Tommy melted into the embrace, nuzzling the side of his face into the part of Wilbur closest to him, his arm.

Tubbo didn't interrupt their moment, waiting for one of them to speak. After a bit of silent cuddling, Wilbur spoke up. "How about we all move back to the living room and set up a little play area for you, yeah? I'll turn on some cartoon, and make some snacks, and we can have fun until bedtime. Does that sound nice, kitty?"

He swayed in place a bit, moving Tommy with him. Tommy nodded excitedly. "Snuggles," he mumbled when Wilbur pulled away from their hug, pouting. "Snuggle me! M' a cute kitty!" he giggled, pointing to himself. He scrunched his nose a bit.

Tubbo and Wilbur knew that the boy was very different off camera. Sometimes, he was still loud, and cursed a lot, but others, he was chill. And apparently, he could be soft sometimes, too.

"I have no doubt about that," Wilbur chuckled, tapping the button of his nose with his index finger, Tommy swatted at it, a bit confused on what to do next when he successfully got ahold of his finger. He put his other 'paw' around it too, dragging his hand to his mouth and biting on his finger.

Wilbur pulled back his hand quickly, shocked. "Bad kitten! We don't bite," he scolded, tapping his head lightly with his hand. Not enough to hurt him, but enough to let him know that he wasn't supposed to do what he just did. Tommy pouted again, his eyes immediately glossing over.

Again, he felt like he couldn't verbally apologize, to upset to pull himself out of headspace enough to talk. This frustrated him and only upset him more. He took the hand he had bit by the wrist, nuzzling his hand into it.

The main difference between Tommy in kittenspace and a real kitten is that he still had, at the very least, a child's level of emotional intelligence. Which meant that he was able to tell when people were upset with him. And he didn't like it when someone was upset with him.

He didn't have kitty teeth! Which meant that his bites hurt a lot more then a kitten's, he reasoned mentally. Wilbur was upset because he hurt him. Cuddles would make it all better, because cuddles made all boo-boos better, he decided.

"Oh, you're okay, baby," Wilbur assured, scratching at his scalp and playing with his hair again. "You didn't really hurt me," he said, as if he was able to read his mind. "You don't need to cry, little kitty."

Tommy kept nuzzling his hand, blinking away his unshed tears. Tubbo leaned close to Wilbur, whispering into his ear.

"Call him a good kitten."

Wilbur nodded, figuring that that made sense. Wilbur had reassured Tommy in every other sense, but he was still guilty. There was a good chance that his emotional response was to the term "bad kitten!".

"You're such a sweet, good kitten."

As predicted, his head perked up at that. He tilted his head, as if to ask 'really?'. "A very adorable, sweet baby kitten," Wilbur ran his fingers through Tommy's hair, his words and affection earning a smile from the pet regressor. "Let's gather up these toys and go set up in the living room, kay? Is there anything else that you need?"

Tommy nodded shyly, crawling over to the edge of his bed and pulling out the little box. He located a light pink plastic item, holding it up. "No more bitin'," he said, slipping the adult pacifier into his mouth. It only added to the childish look.

Wilbur and Tubbo smiled at him. Wilbur was glad that he picked the right cuddling position that somehow led to this, and Toby was glad that he did all that research over the past few weeks. And they were all glad they had planned this one week meet up.

They moved out to the living room, where they played and watched cartoons late into the night. The following morning, Tommy thanked the two of them for everything, and they had an honest conversation about it, telling them everything. How long he had been regressing, both for little and kitten space, how often he did it, when he got all the little and kitten gear.

Wilbur and Tubbo asked a ton of questions, and Tommy answered every single one. Over the next week, between streams and video-filming, Tommy would regress and let his friends learn more about little him, and kitty him. Who Wilbur and Tubbo started calling 'Tom-Tom', by the way.

Eventually, Wilbur would become Tommy's caregiver and handler, after babysitting him over discord calls many, many times. All thanks to that one week visit.

Tommy was so glad he ended up slipping that night, even if it was inconvenient at first. Everything worked out in the end, and he wouldn't change the events of that night if he could.  

It all led to him being Wilbur's 'good kitten'.

--

A/N: let me know if you have requests for any agere/age dreaming/pet regression fics involving some of the DreamSMP members, lmk! I may not write it, due to not knowing to much about a specific youtuber or being uncomfy w/the prompt, but I always love hearing ideas! Please leave feedback/your thoughts on this in the reblogs/replies/my ask box too, I definitely would like to hear them! I hope y'all enjoyed, I spent a while writing this and I hope it makes *someone* happy!

-Apple

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

hand-holding, 33, Dick & Gar

Locked Myself In a Cage and Threw Away The Key (But Your Gentle Hands Had Set Me Free)

Hand-holding | 33. bandaging the other’s hand and not quite letting go - for @undertheknightwing

Gar walked into the Tower's kitchen humming softly, his eyes focused on the phone he held in his hand. He was scrolling through endless pages of recipes, trying to find a perfect smoothie combination. He loved experimenting in the kitchen ever since he was a little kid, his mom would usually assist. At Chief's house Larry has always been very protective over that specific area and wouldn't let him touch anything so the boy never got the chance to do it again but when he arrived in San Francisco with his new friends a little over a week ago and basically started drooling at the sight of a huge kitchen island and shiny appliances, Dick walked up to him with a smile, patted his shoulder and simply said "Go ahead. It's all yours."

"Aha!" he exclaimed triumphantly as he dropped on one of the stools. He found a perfect recipe, a combination he never tried before. He needed kale, an orange and a lemon, a cucumber, coconut water and honey. "Wait, do we have all of that?"

Leaving his phone on the counter he made his way around the kitchen island to the fridge. He found a cucumber (that was already withering so it was the last chance to use it) and some honey. There were a few lemons in a bowl on the counter but no oranges. Other ingredients from the list were missing as well.

Damn it.

Gar quickly grabbed his phone, took a screenshot of the recipe and sent it to Rachel with a note of what he needed. Dick took her out for grocery shopping (apparently his idea of quality time which Gar honestly loved but wouldn't admit it, at least not to Jason), they left like 20 minutes ago so there was still a chance she could get this stuff for him. A minute later she responded with a thumb up emoji and he let out a sigh of relief.

Now all he had to do was wait.

***

When he got the text from Rachel that they'll be back home in 5 minutes (he still couldn't quite get used to calling this place their home - Rachel on the contrary had no problem with it, probably thanks to Dick), Gar dragged himself from the couch in the living room and set to work. Soon the elevator door let out a loud ding sound and she walked in, carrying a huge paper bag filled to the brim in her hands.

"Got everything you asked for." she said, smiling, as she set the bag beside him on the kitchen island and started unpacking it.

"Sweet, thanks." he replied, starting to chop the cucumber into pieces. "Where's Dick?"

"Still in the garage." she sighed, then dropped on the stool next to him and opened a bag of sour jelly beans. "Want some?"

"No, thanks. Why?"

"Car started acting weird." she explained, chewing on the candy. "Apparently something's wrong with the engine or something, I dunno. He's looking into it."

Gar lifted his eyes at her, brows furrowing in concern.

"Ouch, I hope it's nothing serious. I have a feeling Donna wouldn't be happy if it turned out we broke her ride- agh, shit!"

He felt a jolt of stinging pain on the inside of his left palm, setting his nerves ablaze and instinctively pulled his hand away, trying to escape the sensation. Rachel's eyes grew wide and she gasped, staring at it. He slowly lifted his hand back up, looking down and suddenly he felt dizzy, the floor crumbling under his feet.

There was so much blood.

It wasn't really the sight that made him feel this way, or the pain of the cut. It was the touch of the warm liquid creating a puddle inside his palm. The bitter smell of metal that hit his nostrils. The Tiger inside of him came awake, letting out a restless growl and started clawing at the walls of its cage, demanding to be set free.

The cage. Like the one they locked Gar in at the asylum. Suddenly he was back there, curled up in the corner naked, afraid and bloody, staring at a pile of disembodied body parts and internal organs ripped apart. He could feel the taste of crimson in his mouth, sour and disgusting, while the Tiger was roaring in pleasure, demanding for more. Gar heard someone calling out to him, some part of his brain registered a gentle touch and a surge of energy, but the Tiger was quick and shut it all down with one single growl. It wanted to take control, to put Gar in the cage instead. The boy was too close to letting it. As much as the cage terrified him, it also felt somewhat safe and if staying inside meant he could be free of the Tiger for a moment at least, then-

"Gar? Gar, c'mon. Come back to me, buddy."

He snapped back to reality so quickly he started feeling dizzy again. Or maybe the dizziness didn't go away at all, he didn't know. He gasped like he just came out of water and when his sight sharpened again he found himself gazing into Dick's concerned brown eyes, feeling the man's fingers gripping his arms tightly. Rachel was peering over his shoulder, nibbling at her lower lip in worry.

"I tried to heal him but it didn't work." she said, her voice quiet and hesitant. "I don't know why."

"It's okay." he told her, although his eyes never left Gar's. "Go grab the first aid kit. You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah." she nodded and disappeared from view. Dick focused on the boy again.

"Gar, breathe. It's just a little blood. You're okay."

He followed his instructions. Deep breaths. Slow and steady. It's just a little blood. The Tiger is asleep.

"You're not there." Dick spoke softly, as if reading his mind. "You're not in the cage anymore."

They kept breathing together for a bit longer and Gar started feeling better. He risked looking down at his hand. It was covered in smudged blood and a deep cut ran across the inside of his palm. It stung when he stretched his fingers.

"I, uh…" he started, his throat suddenly feeling dry. "I think I didn't notice. The knife slipped and-"

"It's alright, kiddo." Dick comforted him, sending him a warm smile. In the meantime Rachel came back with a small red box in her hand and set it down on the counter. Dick thanked her quietly and looked back at the boy. "Why don't we patch it up, huh?" He let go of his arm and offerend his hand to him. "Can I?"

Gar hesitantly put his injured hand in Dick's hold and instantly relaxed feeling the warm touch of his fingers on his skin. The man cleaned the cut with a disinfectant (it hurt like a bitch), smoothing a damp cotton swab over it, then started wrapping a white bandage over it. His movements were slow and careful, he kept holding his hand gently, turning it to the sides whenever he needed to. Gar observed him quietly, feeling somewhat hypnotized by the process. It was calming down his shattered nerves.

When the dressing was done though, Dick didn't let go of the boy's hand like Gar expected him to, but instead he clasped it between both of his own and held it firmly, looking into his eyes again.

"You good?" he asked and Gar knew he didn't mean the cut.

"Yeah." he answered, his voice sounding a bit croaky. He cleared his throat before speaking again. "Sorry I spaced out."

"It's okay. It triggered you, didn't it? The blood."

Gar took a deep breath and felt his shoulders trembling.

"It did. I know it's silly, but-"

"It's not silly." the man interrupted him and squeezed his hand in comfort. "It's your body and mind reacting to trauma. It's completely normal."

Gar looked down at their hands, feeling his eyes burning.

"I was at the Asylum again…"

"I figured." he heard Dick say quietly. "But thankfully it wasn't real this time. You're safe, Gar. With us, with me. You're at home, not there, remember that."

They stared into each other's eyes for a few long seconds before a smile finally broke onto Gar's face.

"At home."

Dick grinned back at him, relief flooding his face.

"Yeah."

Someone's hand rested on his shoulder. Rachel.

"I'm glad you feel better now." she said. "How about we finish this smoothie?"

Gar lifted an eyebrow at her.

"You hate green smoothies."

"But I am willing to try this one. You bled for it after all."

All three of them chuckled at her joke.

"Save me some for later." Dick said as he stood up from his chair. "I gotta get back to the garage."

That reminded Gar of the car issue.

"Hey, what happened? Is it bad?"

Dick was already halfway to the elevator when he shouted back.

"Nah, I just need to tweak a few things, that's all."

The elevator door dinged and he was gone.

Gar turned to Rachel.

"You said you tried to heal me?"

She shrugged, a look of confusion appearing on her face as she went back to unpacking the groceries.

"Yeah, but somehow I couldn't."

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking.

"I think the Tiger stopped it. I felt something, but then it was abruptly cut off. I don't know, maybe I was imagining things."

"Maybe." she closed the fridge and turned back to him. "So what do you need next?"

"Give me that coconut water."

"Gotcha."

_________________________________________

Fandom: DC Titans

Title: Locked Myself In a Cage and Threw Away The Key (But Your Gentle Hands Had Set Me Free)

Series: Physical Affection - Tumblr Prompts

Pairings/Relationships: Dick Grayson & Garfield Logan

Summary: It wasn't really the sight that made him feel this way, or the pain of the cut. It was the touch of the warm liquid creating a puddle inside his palm. The bitter smell of metal that hit his nostrils. The Tiger inside of him came awake, letting out a restless growl and started clawing at the walls of its cage, demanding to be set free.

CHECK OUT THE PROMPT LIST | REQUESTS OPEN

[yourusualfangirlstuff]

Just a little something to share. Hi, I'm YouFa

I've always liked to write, either fanfiction or just stories in general... And I wanted to try something, it's been a while since I've been on Tumblr. So, here we go:

This little angst/fluff one-shot is called: "Off wherever you want to go" ft. you and your comfort character.

"Oh well, this is the last box." You said with a tint of sadness in your voice. You were almost away from home, moving out since a small job request, had been handed to you weeks ago.

Your job involved doing what you loved the most, it just wasn't a chance you could let go. Yet, as much as you wanted to stay hyped up, you couldn't much.

You just missed them. A lot.

The last time you knew about them, you gave them the news about moving away, they seemed relaxed about it, but after that, they were gone. And hadn't heard about them, for a while now.

Deep down, it upset you, but it couldn't distract you from what your main goal was: Getting on the top. Being the #1.

The van you had hired for the moving, was already full with your stuff and the kind old man —the driver—, was just as happy as you.

"Ready to go, young one?" he asked in his raspy voice. You were looking at the end of your street, still expecting for them to show up and stopping you from going. You sighed, looked at the wrinkled one, nodding.

You got in the passenger side and him, behind the wheel, strapping on his seat belt. Your family was waving at you, and you couldn't help, but tear it a little.

The vehicle started, and off you were, to the greatest adventure of your life... Alone... It made you sigh through your nostrils, slouching on the seat.

"What is in your mind, young lad?" he asked. You turned to them, with your eyebrows raised and looking to the front once again.

"Oh, well, it's nothing, sir. Just... Remembering things." you replied and smiled sadly at them.

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's for someone, isn't it?"

Your cheeks flared up and you looked away.

"Nah. Someone? No, sir. At all" you tried to lie, but he patted your shoulder.

"Love gets us all, sometimes. It did with me, and my loved one" he replied. He searched quickly in his pocket and pulled out an infantile-sized picture of him and his partner, handing it to you.

"It's adorable. I like it" you said and held the picture between your index and thumb.

Suddenly, the man passed over a street bump, making you drop the tiny photo.

"Oh shoot. Sorry" you said and since you didn't have your seat belt, you simply bent over to pick it up.

You ran your fingers through the van's rug, to look for the man's little photo and with no warning, the vehicle stopped, making you crash your forehead against the dashboard.

You groaned in pain and rubbed your head, turning rather confused at him.

"I am terribly sorry! It's just that this wacko stepped in the middle of the road!" he angrily yelled, and peeked his head outside the window.

He honked several times and you turned your head to the weirdo... You knew that weirdo. It was your weirdo.

They were standing there, with a very worried look, as if they were about to cry.

You got off the car and walked towards them, pissed off.

"What in the heck are you doing!? We almost ran over you!" you frowned at them. The action, made your head twirl and hurt. You just pressed your hand against your forehead, still trying to rub away the pain.

"Are you alright? What happened?" they asked, very worried. Their hands were approaching your face when you moved them off, in a swift movement.

"Don't. Please, don't" you coldly said and they were taken aback since you'd never treated them like that.

"Where were you?" you asked. They opened up their mouth and closed it up, again.

"Look, I know I was away for a while-" "A while!? Just a while?!" you cut them off. They gulped at this, they'd never seen you this angry.

"You were gone long enough to make me miss you and even cry for you! You were just... Gone! No calls, no messages, nothing!" you expressed it all, your hands doing motions.

Their lips thinned up and they were thinking their words carefully, still not saying anything.

"Well?" you crossed your arms over your chest, your brow still furrowed.

"I... I'm thinking" they replied and you scoffed, turning away, and walking back to the transportation.

"Wait wait-!" they said and you turned back to them, with a raised eyebrow.

"I just... Don't know what to tell you" they mumbled.

"How about the truth? Why were you gone so long? Where were you?" you asked and they sighed in defeat.

"I was gone, because... Aside from getting upset about seeing you go, I also pulled some string around... So I could be with you." they explained.

"I... Don't get it. What do you mean?" you tilted your head.

"I want to be with you. Here or anywhere... But just us. You and I." they approached you and grabbed your hands, squeezing them.

Your face was puzzled in confusion. They chuckled and pulled you closer.

"I think we can be together... If you want to, in the same space," they mumbled and pressed their forehead against yours.

"Of course I want to. It'd be wonderful" you whispered back and looked at them in the eyes.

"Then, let's do it. Let's stay here, and have a new life" and with that said, your face dropped and you walked back.

"Wait... Here? At hometown?" you asked and they nodded.

"... I can't," you said and their face dropped as well.

"Why not?" they asked and you bit your lip.

"I got my dream job. Waiting for me, across the state. I'd have told you earlier but..." you shrugged.

"Oh. I'm sorry. I... I'm so sorry." they replied and you just approached them, patting their shoulder.

"I don't understand your reasons, but... Whatever it was, I'm glad I saw you, one last time." you smiled and walked away, once again.

You got in the passenger seat again, and the man looked at both of you, with a sad expression.

They were struggling with either stopping you or letting you go. They ran to your side's window and tapped on it, startling you a little. You rolled it down and rested on the edge with your elbows.

"Where are you going to be, then?" they asked, gripping one of your hands. You squeezed it back and kissed it.

"Remember that pretty place I always talked you about? The house I've always wanted to have? I got it. And, you're very welcome, if you ever want to pass by" you smiled at them and they gave you a sad smile.

You wished you could take them with you, but you knew what they had to do and what you had to do. Each of you, on your own business.

They wanted to stay at hometown and you wanted to explore the around, more... Nothing wrong with that, but sure felt a little bit alone.

And off you were...

Three months later

It had been a while after your moving and you were doing just fine in your new workplace. A couple of friends were made but you couldn't help but think about them... Smile, laugh, eyes... Just everything.

You did talk through the phone or messages, sending eachother memes and ressuring messages, but it just wasn't the same.

You were almost out of work and you were very tired. It had been a long day but it was all worth it, for the payment.

You recieved a text message from them.

"Hey, are you almost out?" you smiled at your phone

"Yeah, I'm crossing outside righ now." you texted as you walked out the building.

And you froze when you looked up at your phone. They were right there. You blinked a couple of times and approached slowly.

"What...? How?" you stuttered out and they hugged you tightly. You hugged them back and inhaled slowly, exhaling and getting their scent in your nostrils.

"I moved here, as well, right up the street. Now we can lunch and be together, more often. You keep doing your job and I keep doing mine" they said and pulled away from the hug.

You caressed their face with both of your hands and they kissed them, each. They squeezed their hands against yours and it made you laugh a little, couple of happy tears streaming down.

"Are you hungry? I'm starving." they said and you nodded in agreement.

"Where at?" you asked.

"Off wherever you want to be at. With you, it's great." they replied and you grabbed one of their hands, locking your fingers together, and looked where to get some lunch.

[ilooklikeaburntchickenugget]

Tour Mom: Chapter 1

Quick A/N: I write fanfic on Wattpad pretty frequently, but I’ve decided to start it on Tumblr too. This page will primarily be MCR fanfic, which I’ve actually never written before so, we’ll see how this goes. Also, this fic takes place during the Black Parade era.

Warnings: None, except swearing if that counts.

Premise of series: fem!Reader x Gerard, basically following the relationship. But it’s a lot like the MCR x fem!Reader.

Word count: 1799

Gerard Way. Front man of the iconic 2000s rock band, My Chemical Romance. Known by many as one of the creators of the new era of rock, consisting of emo and punk themes. Having a unique voice with even uniquer songs and sounds paved the path for him to become a household names, in homes who had good taste in music. To you, he was your best friend of going on a decade, and boyfriend for half of those years.

Mikey Way. Bassist and shy guy within the band. Until you got to know him, then he became a chatter box. He could go on for hours and hours about whatever he thought of. His thoughts were basic, yet some were intriguing and could actually spark a decent conversation. Also, he was basically your brother. Your relationship with Gerard only grew that bond.

Ray Toro. Lead guitarist and the soft, nice guy of the band. Also, your best friend while touring. Ray was one of the kindest people you had ever met, he would give up all he had for the people he cared about. His hair was also great, which automatically made his better. He was, to be honest, the only other completely stable and mature individual beside you, and even then sometimes none of you could act like the civil adults you legally were. You and he would also secretly watch Food Network together.

Frank Iero. The absolute most chaotic, most childish, and most loveable individual. Guitarist for MCR, you and Frank got along very well. Usually he was busy eating something or making some dark jokes, either way he used his time in the most Frank way possible. He was secretly one of the sweetest people alive and breathing, always being able to lighten up someone’s day when it was needed most.

And then there was you. And Bob, but he was kinda irrelevant to be honest. He just kinda stayed in his lane, and you and him got along just fine. But back to you. You were technically not apart of the band, but behind the scenes you basically were. Most notably, you were Gerard’s girlfriend. But you were also the one that managed to keep the boys in line when you were away from home. You had to remind these full grown men to shower daily, to eat three meals, and to continue working on songs and not just sit and watch movies or TV all day. Without you, the tour would have been a mess behind the scenes.

“Mikey!” You called from the living room of the cramped bus.

“Yeah?” He called back from his bunk bed.

“Have you showered today?” You inquired. There was a pause which is all you needed to come to a conclusion. You sighed, “Go take a shower Mikey.” He lightly groaned, reluctantly rolling out from the mattress and walking to the even more cramped bathroom.

“Fine.” He grabbed a towel and new clothes, walking in and locking the door. Frank walked by, mouthing you a ‘thank you’. He was always big on hygiene, so were you, and so anytime you knew one of the boys had gone even a few hours past daily showering, you directed them to clean up. And they always did, reluctantly usually.

You were casually reading a book on the couch when Ray sat next to you, turning on the TV. So of course, you joined him. About 15 minutes later, after investing in one of the various cable channels you could find, you looked up to see Gerard staring you two down.

Initially, he was extremely jealous of the relationship you and Ray had. He was worried that you and Ray were more than just friends, which of course you weren’t. But, you and he had reassured your boyfriend that it was no more than just a close friendship. “Are you jealous again, Gee?” You pouted, almost making fun of him. Ray smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“I’m not jealous as much as I am worried.” Gerard now came up to you two, sitting on the arm of the couch next to you.

“Worried about what?” You looked up at him.

“That you two will run off into the sunset or some fucking fairytale shit like that.” Now it was time for you to roll your eyes.

“You’re very melodramatic sometimes, Gerard.” You told him, “We’ve been dating for five years and you still have suspicion that I’m going to run off with one of your friends.” Gerard was always extremely laid back. That was unless it was on the topic of you. Then he was protective and extremely alert. 

You two were both very independent people, and your relationship reflected that. You two were never touchy feely, or too close, or too protective. Your romance  functioned much like a friendship, which you both preferred. “You know I’ll always love you, Gee. And only you.” You lightly smiled up at him, and he sighed giving in.

“I love you too.” He got up, walking back to his bunk where you knew he would probably work on some more sketched for the various comic works he had going.

Mikey finally reemerged from his shower in new clothes, heading to the small mini fridge and grabbing some carrots. “You eat all the damn food Mikey,” Frank complained from his bunk.

“I’m hungry.” He whined, taking a bite from one of the mini orange ones.

“I wish I had Mikey’s metabolism,” You began, “Eat whatever the hell you want and not gain an ounce.” “I know right,” Ray added on, “That would be nice.”

“What’re we talking about?” Gerard shouted from his bed.

“Mikey’s metabolism. And him stealing all the food.” Frank replied.

“Oh yeah, Mikey does have a great metabolism.”

“Speaking of, what do you guys want for dinner?” You asked, “I’m texting Brian right now.” Brian, as in the manager of course.

“Burgers.” Mikey and Gerard said at the same time. You looked at Ray for his opinion. “I’m good with that.” “So am I!” Frank called out.

“Me too.” Bob finally spoke up.

“So you’re not dead?” Frank responded, looking over to his bunk. You snorted.

“Alright, I’ll let him know so we can stop somewhere.” After shooting a quick text you got up heading to your own bunk to find yet another book, or graphic novel to read. Yours was right under Gerard’s, because that only made sense.

“What’cha doin?” Gerard poked his head down to see you. You rolled your eyes knowing he would pester you just to annoy you.

“You’re a pain in my ass.” You smiled at him, grabbing one of the Watchmen comics Gerard had generously lead to you, after nearly forcing you to finally read it.

You and Gerard actually met in a comic book store, you working there when you two were in college. A friendship sparked out of that, and later evolved to a romance. He scoffed as if in offense, resorting back to his top bunk. “If you’re going to be aggressive then I just won’t even try.”

“I’m not being aggressive,” You told him, “I’m being honest.” You could practically hear the eye roll from your boyfriend.

“Hey Mikey,” He had the audacity to bring his brother into it, “Am I a pain the the ass?” “Absolutely.” It took the man less than a second to answer, as if waiting to tell him, which let’s be honest, he probably was. You couldn’t help but give a soft chuckle, then giving a high five to Mikey as he walked past you to his own bed.

“Alright, the diner we’re stopping at is in about two hours you guys.” You said out loud, reading from the text Brian had sent you just a moment ago.

So for about an hour you all stayed relatively silent, shocking for all of you, except Bob. And sometimes Mikey, depending on his mood really. But for awhile you occasionally heard huffs and groans from above you. “Hey Gee?” You asked.

“Hm?” He responded.

“What’re you working on?” You heard him sigh.

“Concepts.” “Yeah, but what sort of concepts?”

“Just for a new comic.” “Lemme see.” You rose your hand up to take it, which he handed to you.

“These look great.” You complimented, skimming your fingers over the bright array of colors on his paper. “What’s the idea?” You asked.

“I’m thinking of the groups being called the Killjoys,” He began, going into a long shortened explanation.

“I love it.” You said and handed it back to him, “I think it’ll go a long way.” “Thanks.” He said and presumably continued.

Another hour of reading and light conversation passed before you finally reached one of the various road side diners you all ate at. Brian had ordered ahead, so everyone just ran in to grab their order, him of course paying. No time could be wasted on the road.

So there, the six of you sat on the couches in the tightly cramped bus, eating out of plastic containers. Gerard reached over, ripping off a piece of one of your chicken tenders, and dunking it in the ranch you got. You immediately fought back taking a bite of his burger and placing it right back.

“I can’t fucking wail ‘till we’re in a hotel.” Frank said out of the blue. Everyone nodded and hummed agreeing, too busy with their food to talk back.

“When’re we in one next?” You asked. It was rare when you were ever in one, and usually after extended periods of time and when shows were spaced out longer than one to two days you got that luxury.

“4 shows, so 6 days.”

“Finally.” Mikey almost murmured.

“Now Gerard can fuck Y/N senseless in peace and quiet.” Franks smirked. You chocked on your food as Gerard confidently nodded.

“Hell yeah.” You slapped his arm.

“Don’t deny it Y/N,” Frank said again, “It’s bound to happen.” You rolled your eyes.

“You’re absurd.” You got up to throw away your now empty food container, going to wash your hands briefly, and climbing in bed as the guys cleaned up their own food.

It was already late, and despite the even later curfews everyone had, most of the last hours of the night were all spent in your personal cubbies doing whatever you all pleased.

“Goodnight, babe.” You heard Gerard above you.

“Night, Gee.” You smiled.

“Goodnight, baby.” You heard Frank yell from his own cubby which prompted a lot of soft chuckling and laughter.

“Love you too, Frank.” You responded.

“Not even an ‘I love you’ to your actual boyfriend?” Gerard poked his head down. You rolled your eyes, giving him a peck on the lips despite how his face was upside down.

“I love you.”

[blooming-inthedark]

Yesterday I had a traumatic morning

A friend called me, and I answered. He suffers from bipolar disorder and depression. He sounded sad so I set up and got myself together. I try to listen and support when I can even though we are miles and miles away from each other. He told me to call him back on Google duo, which is normal because we video chat several times throughout a week.

Before I called back, I noticed that he had left me 2 video messages on duo. I played the first one. He said things like “Thanks for being my friend... it was nice knowing you... nice meeting you... I enjoyed our time together.” I didn't bother listening to the second one and called him right back. He asked me how my weekend was and I asked him what was wrong, did something happen? He took these long pauses before he spoke, as if he couldn't talk. He said “This isn't fair to you; I shouldn't have woken you up like this.” I told him it was okay and again asked what was wrong. He said I shouldn't have called you. I asked why. He said: Because I'm probably going to die soon.

I asked him how did he know he was going to die soon, he said: Because I just took three bottles of pills. So... I've never been on the other end of a conversation like this. It took a few seconds to register what he said, and once I did, the panic inside of me slowly started to build. I asked him if he had called anyone before he called me and he said something along the lines of “There's not much you can do anyway.”

I ran into my roommate's room, demanded that we use his phone because this was an emergency. I asked him “Can you please call 911 and ask them to get in touch with the emergency line from my hometown because my friend just told me that he took three bottles of pills and I don't know if he's going to be okay!!” (At this point I'm crying hysterically by just speaking the words aloud.)

We got on the phone with emergency services, and they start asking me questions. I gave them my friend’s address, and the lady on the phone asked me to see if I could get him to tell me what kind of pills he took. He wouldn't tell me. Once they got all the details, they said that they would send somebody to check on my friend. I went back into my room to continue talking to him on Google duo. At this point it was hard for me to focus. He was talking about how he had attempted this three times earlier that day, how he still thinks the Creator makes no mistakes, and began frowning up and even saying that his stomach was hurting really bad and he was repeating himself because he could feel his words starting to slur. My roommate, who has been a mediator in these situations before, told me that it's best to talk about something else instead of what's going on right now. So, I tried to ask my friend how his weekend was, but I can't think of much else to say. The whole time I wondered what was taking the police so long, and it was harder to contain my anxiousness. Three bottles of pills had stuck in my head so I didn't know how much time we had!!

Then, my friend put his phone down and I heard what I assumed was the police finally knocking at the door. A few minutes passed and I didn't hear or see anything on the screen so I panicked and hung up. I tried calling back three times and got no answer. I ran back into my roommate's room, threw myself on his bed, and started crying hysterically. He rubbed my back and try to calm me down. I told him I couldn’t be calm! I was anxious and scared because I didn't know what was going on!!

Finally the police call us back. The officer says; “Yeah we're with your friend and he seems to be just fine. He doesn't appear to be intoxicated and said he is not having suicidal thoughts. Can you tell me what happened?” I am extremely confused. I don't know how it is that he could be okay, when minutes ago he was not. I told the officer everything, that he informed me that he took three bottles of pills, with some wine, and that I don't think he was okay. The officer told me that they have a series of questions that they have to ask, and if the individual answers the questions in a way that suggests that they are okay, they cannot admit them anywhere or take that person away. The officer assured me that he would ask the questions one more time and give me a call back to let me know what happened. When he called back it was the same thing. I couldn’t contain my frustration. I wanted to yell out “He is lying to y'all!!” but my roommate was sitting next to me and calmly told me to thank the officer. I did. The officer reminded me that you can't make people tell the truth, and if someone says that they're okay it is not his place to take away their freedom that way.

When the call ended, I sat on the bed with tears in my eyes. I was angry and confused. I didn't understand why he wasn't being honest. My roommate reminded me that usually, if someone wants to kill themselves, they would just do it without letting anybody know so that nobody can possibly intervene. Sometimes, and maybe in this case, it was a cry for help or a cry for attention. He told me that most likely my friend was okay, because 3 full bottles of pills, no matter what kind, would have had some type of physical effect on his body by now.

Even though I made sense of what my roommate told me, I was still in a state of worry because I had no idea what I just happened and still felt like my friend might be in danger. I tried calling him for the next 6 hours because somehow I kept thinking the worst. I just wanted a response from him... to know that he was okay and not possibly passed out somewhere. He finally texted me the words “I'm ok” later that night and I didn't say anything else.

I haven't spoken to my friend since then. I've moved through the day assuming that he's okay and doesn't want to be bothered right now. (He's the type of person who prefers to have space when he is going to darkness) However, what my roommate said caused me to think a little bit more about our friendship - how it formed, what fuels it, what keeps it going, and how we lean on each other. Many of our conversations revolve around physical intimacy with each other, and when he is having bad days I am there to listen and try to uplift him the best way that I can. When I on the other hand have a lot on my mind that I want to talk about, I cannot divert his attention away from his video games or social media in order for him to listen to me. I began to wonder if I fill some void for him of loneliness and sexual desire. I hope that we can have a check-in about this.

When I was a teenager, I had a best friend who suffered from depression. I had no real understanding of it back then, but as I got older I realized that she used her depression to emotionally manipulate me and whoever she was dating at the time into surrendering to her will, whenever she wanted. We are no longer close and much peace has been restored in my life as a result. I don't want to walk into another friendship like that. It is toxic for both parties, especially as I try to navigate through my own bouts of emotional instability. 

I have since talked to my therapist about this situation. She assured me that I did the right thing and that I shouldn't blame myself for how things were handled. Even though I haven't called him since yesterday, I do wish that we could talk, and hope that he is doing better. I am in a better place about this than I was yesterday but I am still thinking about the after effects. And to be honest, I am still a little upset about it.... Am I a bad friend for being angry with him? Am I wrong for not checking in with him today? Who is he not being honest with? Is this something he will do  again in the future? Is it selfish to want to discuss how this incident made me feel? Would appreciate any feedback or advice about this in my ask box or my messages.

**Please excuse typos. I typed this whole thing up in tumblr with emotion and fervor, then accidentally clicked “back” and lost the whole thing. I used talk-to-text to hastily re-tell the story and paste it back. It’s definitely not as great as the first draft but whatever.

[aggedyann]

Introducing some of my OCs. I have some descriptions posted in my feed...is there a way to sticky that? Also if anyone can explain how to put this behind a cut. I’m not real familiar with tumblr.

Anyway, navigating the office with a cold...

Tuesday, but with Sneezing

Tim had come home from work yesterday, sneezed 16 times and immediately left again to go buy a box of Kleenex. He’d gone to bed that night with a vaguely sore throat and a stuffy, tickly, nose. Something that hadn’t changed when he woke up this morning.

“Huhhyehhshoo, ehhhshoo.” As soon as he’d opened his eyes, he’d sneezed. He’d grabbed some cold medicine and swallowed that down with coffee and oatmeal. He was not looking forward to work. Colds were always an issue in their shared space. First, Alex was in and out, and no one wanted to get the boss sick, especially if it might screw up the show. Ella was always nagging at Freddie or whoever not to get her sick…again. Freddie was always so obviously sick, at least on the first day, and everyone, himself included, gave Freddie so much crap about it, that he didn’t want that. And Sam and her damn bleach wipes. Yeah, announcing he had a cold might not be the best idea.

“Hayyahhshoo…ahhShoo.” He blew his nose again, groaning as he locked the door. He certainly wasn’t going to be able to hide it. His sneezes ran on the quieter side of loud, always in pairs and were as such, certainly noticeable. He couldn’t stifle a sneeze or fight one back if his life depended on it. And Freddie, Freddie always seemed to *know* when Tim had a cold. Besides, he was known to go days without sneezing…and now to be suddenly sneezing like this? Yeah, he couldn’t hide it either.

‘Maybe,’ he mused, getting into the car, ‘maybe the best thing to do, was nothing.’ Just go to work and act like it was any other Tuesday, only with extra sneezing. He drove to work, hoping it was just him, being aware that he was sick, being aware of how much he was sniffling. He found a spot in the lot and parked. He stuffed a pocket with tissues, tossed the box into his backpack, and headed in.

He was met at the elevator by Sam and Ella. “Hey.” He greeted them, wondering if they noticed the congestion in his voice. The engaged him in conversation about the previous day’s show and what each had done last night without seeming to. “Freddie will be late.” He said, glancing at his phone, as they entered the office.

“So, business as usual.” Sam stated, sitting down and turning on her computer. At this point, no one knew why Freddie texted Tim that he’d be late almost every single morning, other than that Tim was usually the first one in the office by at least 5 minutes. Well, everyday, except today. Today he’d been right on time with Sam and Ella.

He powered on his laptop, clearing his throat. “Brainstorm for an hour and then circle up like usual?” He took a sip of his coffee and, of course, swallowed wrong. He wrapped his arm over his face and turned towards the wall, coughing harshly. The coughing fit that resulted was probably about 40% the result of aspiration on the coffee and more 60% his cold and took a minute to run its course. When he turned back to the room, the girls, and now Freddie were pretending they hadn’t been staring at him. He held up his coffee mug. “Swallowed wrong.” He explained, sheepishly.

Freddie nodded as Sam and Ella got back to work on their computers. He could feel Freddie’s glance on him for a moment, but that soon faded. They fell quickly into their review of current events and easy chatter filled the room, each writer making notes for when they huddled up.

It was when they were on their way to the table in the center of the room that Tim sneezed for the first time since coming to work. “Ahshoo…Hayyahhshoo.”

“Bless you.” Freddie said, and again, Tim could feel him scrutinizing him.

“Thanks,” Tim sniffled, pulling a tissue out of his pocket and blowing his nose as softly as possible. Still sniffly, he sat down at the table. He noticed how runny his nose was, and didn’t want to draw attention to himself by excessively sniffling or by giving his nose the blowing his cold was demanding. “Before we start, I’m gonna run to the restroom quick.” He excused himself.

He leaned against the wall in the small room and gave his nose several strong blows, then washed his hands. Returning to the writers’ office, he cheerily said “let’s get to work.”

As they progressed in topics, he was painfully aware of how often he was sniffling. He was clearing his throat practically every time he spoke. He just prayed no one noticed.

It was another hour before he sneezed again. “Hehhshooo, Heyehhshoo, ehhyehhshoo, ehhhshoo.”

“Bl-“ Ella started.

He held up his hand to stop her, arm still wrapped around his face. “More comi- ihhshoo, ihhhihhshoo, Hihhschoo, Heyehhshoo!” He straightened up and noticed Freddie offering tissues, which he gratefully accepted.

“Bless you.” Ella ventured again.

“You’re getting a pretty solid cold there.” Freddie commented.

Tim looked at him. “How’d you know?”

“You’re pale. You look tired. You’re sniffling. You’re congested. You’re hoarse. You clear your throat every time you speak. When you came back from the bathroom, your nose was red. And it’s certainly not like you to sneeze 10 times in less than 3 hours.”

Tim sniffed. “Yeah. I’ve got a cold.” He saw Sam start to get up for her desk where she kept her bleach wipes and groaned. “Please, no.”

She stopped. “They make you sneeze.” She sighed.

“Yeah.”

“And then I’ll have to use them more.”

“And then I’ll sneeze more.” He pointed out. “Can we work something out on their use?”

She nodded. “Every hour?” She proposed.

“Every two?” He shot her a pleading look. “My nose is already irritated.”

It took her a second, but she nodded. “Every two, starting now.” She said as Tim pulled a bottle of hand sanitizer from his pocket and set it on the table. She wiped down the table, Tim’s desk and keyboard as well as all the other common surfaces.

Freddie went over and snagged the box of tissues off his desk. “You’ll probably want these.”

“There’s a box in my bag.” Tim told him. “Grab that instead of yours.”

Freddie pulled the tissues out of Tim’s backpack. “You want cough drops?” At Tim’s nod, he grabbed a bag out of his desk. He set the tissues and cough drops next to Tim. “Back to work?” He asked looking at the team.

They settled back in as Alex arrived to go over what they’d worked on. Alex wrinkled his nose at the smell of bleach and took stock of the tissues and cough drops next to Tim. “Got a cold?” He took his seat at the head of the table.

Tim coughed into his sleeve. “Yeah.” He hoarsely admitted.

“Sucks, man. Get to work?”

Ella requested a quick chance to grab coffee before starting and ducked out of the room, checking if anyone needed any.

Despite the assurances that everyone was fine, beverage-wise, she returned with two cups. She slid one in front of Tim. “Tea,” she explained at his quizzical look. “With honey. Your voice is starting to sound painful.”

He smiled. “Thanks.”

“Ok, ready?” Alex asked.

“Hold on.” Tim gasped, turning away from the table. “Huhhhehhshoo, eckshoo.”

“Bless you.” Alex said, raising his eyebrows and tilting his head at Sam, who had not, per their agreement, reached for the bleach wipes.

“Thanks. I’m ready now.” He blew his nose and cleaned his hands.

They reviewed jokes for the next hour and a half, focusing on Alex’s monologue before heading to rehearsal, Sam sanitizing the office before they left. Tim made it through rehearsal, with only one double making it’s way out.

Heading back to the writer’s room, Tim stopped, braced himself on the wall and let loose with four strong sneezes. “Huhhshoo, huhhyuhhshoo, huhhrahhashoo, ahshoo.”

“Bless you” Sam told him. “I hope you can get some rest tonight. You do look awfully tired.”

He nodded, sniffling as they walked back to the writer’s room. “Yeah, couldn’t stay asleep last night.”

He snatched a tissue out of the box on Ella’s desk as they walked by and blew his nose again.

The five of them sat down and fine tuned the jokes for tonight before Alex headed in to taping. They gave Tim headset duty, and he only deafened Alex once when a set of sneezes snuck up on him too quick to move the mic away; the other two times, he’d had enough warning to move it. Sam, of course, wiped down the mic as soon as the show was over.

Post show, the four writers returned to their office to shut down for the night. Tim noticed he had a text message from Alex – “stop in and see me before you go home 🙂”

‘Great’ Tim thought. “I’m gonna get crap for sneezing in his ear all show.’ The cold medicine had worn off without him realizing it just before showtime. Ducking his head into his arm again, he muffled a powerful double into his elbow. “Heyyehhschuhh, Ehhschuhh.”

A chorus of bless yous met him as he raised his head and blew his nose yet again. Sanitizing his hands, he thanked them and shut down his computer.

“Get some rest, man.” Freddie told him.

“Thanks. Gotta see Alex before I go, but I’m heading out now. Probably wants to give me hell for sneezing in his ear all show.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah…that was…you could have warned us.”

“No time.” Tim shrugged, zipping up his backpack and heading down the hall to Alex’s office.

“What’s up?” He asked, pulling a packet of cold medicine out of his pocket and picking at the foil. Alex gestured he should come in. Tim went in as Alex stood up and came over. “Sorry for all the sneezing in your ear.” He apologized, holding up the cold medicine. “Missed the time for this.”

Alex shrugged. “The last two were the only ones that surprised me since you didn’t move the mic. You get gaspy before you sneeze, so I had warning. Not what I wanted to ask you about.”

“Oh?” Tim swallowed the pills with a sip from his water bottle.

“How’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Come in with a cold, and not have freakouts and bleach wipes everywhere.” Alex knew the dynamics of the room when it came to colds. His allergies often came under scrutiny. “I know you didn’t announce it. And I *know* you can’t hide it.”

Tim shrugged. “I didn’t say anything. Let them figure it out. Decided to treat it as any other Tuesday, only, you know, with sneezing.”

Alex laughed as Tim turned and sneezed again, fishing a tissue out of his pocket.

Alex put a hand on his back, “Up for dinner or do you want to go home and rest?”

“I still need to eat.” Tim told him as they walked out together.

[swampgallows]

blizzcon recap, basically a big stream of consciousness text dump while i still remember things and i will make a refined post later i think

Thursday morning I went to bed around 3am, woke up at 630am, and then again at 730am to board my 840am train bound for anaheim. I had originally intended to drive myself to the con but decided against it, as I didn’t want to pay $60 for parking nor endure the stress of driving on the freeway solo for the first time. 

I took a lyft to my hotel and met up with sun​ (who gave me kandi!!!) and their husband aaron, then we went to claim our badges and make some store purchases.

after feverishly texting reglei we caught sight of each other in line, got tired of waiting, then made our way to disneyland. there we met up with zach and kept missing fitze by mere moments; finally caught fitze & friends at the river belle terrace (a place i have never been in before because despite my many years of being a passholder, there was never a reason or time for a sit-down restaurant experience at disney, so when i opened the door i IMMEDIATELY closed it thinking i was intruding on a private dinner event LMAO). we knocked out everything on the western side of the park (including a fry-filled splash mountain) and got some good pics. the ride on indy was one of the best i’ve had in years: no stalling, great speed, and tons of jerks that nearly threw me out of the jeep hell yeah. perce made it to disneyland in the evening and we got to enjoy space mountain, star tours, a second round of pirates, a VERY invigorated spin on the teacups, then left at closing. zach generously dropped us all off at our individual hotels before heading out himself.

around 2am i woke up convulsing with an anxiety attack and took half a med. i was scared i had woken up sun and aaron but they were coincidentally also awake. after some talking and goofing off with them we made the very informed decision to postmates some del taco to the hotel at 3am. my god was it worth it. i had selected the “fries and secret sauce” option, unaware that these ingredients were not sides, but components to be added to the inside of the burrito. wasn’t bad!

7am wake up for day 1 of the con. met for “breakfast” with perce and reg at the hilton starbucks, which said that they accepted rewards but then didn’t :| i sincerely dont even remember what we did first as everything in the con was so purely awesome and overwhelming. The opening ceremony brought tears to my eyes, of course, as it displayed “WELCOME HOME” on every stage. We mostly just traveled around the con, taking pics, learning the layout, and mentally digesting everything. We attended the VA panel in the early afternoon which was a GREAT decision (no spoilers if you haven’t watched the virtual ticket stream yet!!!) and then made our way to the main stage, where we parked for a good 5-6 hours for the WoW and HotS “What’s next?” panels, then the following WC3 reforged insight panel and, finally, the entire community night. i really want to make sure i grab clips of some of darin de paul’s mcing that night because the man was sawing at my heartstrings like a viola bow. i got very close to crying many times. have no fear put on another amazing performance—this time a wow track called “war mode”—and won the talent contest! we had the privilege of running into them after the performance to congratulate and get some pics w them. i also met up with hinz who i haven’t seen in forever and we got to talk about his brewing and the con! had blaze pizza for dinner then passed out.

breakfast at coco’s for day 2 of the con, this time with sun and aaron in tow. all i needed was hot cocoa and a slice of dark chocolate chip cheese pie. it was...so goddamn good. we started off the con with the warcraft sounds panel featuring the zone of drustvar and concluded with some great performances by david arkenstone and the tavern band. they performed the zandalari zocalo music and bloodsail, an old favorite! we puttered around the darkmoon faire until the build-a-panel featuring zone design in warcraft but couldn’t hear anything due to the acoustics of the stage, so i left to pick up my blink purchases with fitze. there i met a girl wearing kandi and traded with her; she gave me a rubber bracelet from a podcast she’d attended called ‘pwncast’ that reads ‘we bow to no one’ which is VERY garrosh. other than that we had a grand old time of waiting in a line we didnt have to wait in and then made our way back for the warcraft Q&A. the second i saw metzen i immediately screamed with awe and terror and then sobbed into my lap. perce and reg comforted me, and the rest of the panel was fairly uneventful. I think i was the one human being who shouted ‘woo!’ at the scott johnson’s mention of his interviews with metzen, lol. we were waiting for meggo to have a chance to ask her question but she didn’t get the opportunity :(

after the q&a we went over to the unofficial tumblr meetup organized by questifer which was a huge privilege and a lot of fun, and we even made some new friends. i spilled my spaghetti about garrosh to actual blizzard quest developers and im very embarrassed that i did. lmao. i really liked the casual atmosphere of just chilling on the floor though. fitze had to leave halfway through :( but the quest discussion went on for almost 2 full hours. it was really a humbling opportunity.

by that time, the closing ceremonies were underway. reg and i missed out on the hots finals so we just bummed around the overwatch arena for a bit just to see the thing and catch a few minutes of kristian nairn’s set. again, cool stuff, but nothing i can go nuts to lmao. it’s questing music to me. on our way out of the hots stage i ran into a dude wearing KIKWEARS and gave him kandi!! it was awesome lmao. we spent some ducats at the darkmoon faire, but the real prize was won as we were walking out and scored the literal actual absolute last three available boxes of lucio-ohs!!! mine had a hole punched in it so we ate a bit of it before returning to blaze pizza for dinner again. the cereal tastes like lucky charms to me! it’s very sweet, but good!

sunday morning perce, reg, and i secured a breakfast at dennys. when i went up to pay the check i saw the cashier was wearing a piece of kandi and i had the perfect piece for her, the “short stack” piece with the pancake eraser. she traded me the one piece she was wearing (!) which said ‘insomniac’ (obv haha). i made that kandi a while ago and it feels like it was fate for this moment to arrive. reg and perce and i all parted ways back to our individual hotels. i was just chilling in the lobby when i saw a woman wearing kandi, so i went over and introduced myself. she traded me a piece that said mermaid on it, due to my “mermaid hair” :> we started talking about phat pants and she said her daughters now wear the pairs she used to wear! and the kandi she chose was the “a book for ants” with the miniature bible on it, as she found it appropriate for her halloween “christian protest” where she blasted tchami and malla and had a totem that encouraged ‘sinners’ to dance with her, lol.

i excused myself for the restroom and she invited me to “come back and hang out!” so i did!! and when i returned the group was playing a fun card game called chameleon. and have no fear was playing with them!! daniella, one of the performers from the talent contest (they sang the song about vanilla wow), had also joined us. so i got to play the game with a few members of the group and made some new friends, leigh (who gave me kandi) and jaime/ace, who i talked to about old school raving and kandi for a bit. there was a point where everyone but ace went up to the room for their luggage so it was just the two of us sitting there talking, and a pair of guys came up to us holding some merch. “Do you guys want these? we bought too many loot crates.” i was stunned!! they handed me a shadow plush and a clip-on ganymede to ace.

when they all returned, they were trying to plan what to do next, and i told them i had to grab a lyft and start heading to the train station. leigh offered me a ride there!!! i really felt PLUR for the first time in ages, lmao. we all hugged each other and said our goodbyes.

arriving at the train station, i ran into other blizzcon people and we talked about wow the ENTIRE ride home. for the first leg of the journey it was a super full train and we all had to stand but it was okay. we were all enthusiastically talking about wow with zero awkward pauses or any points of contention. it was so amazing just thriving on each other’s hype. at one point another person on the train said “do you guys play this game or MAKE this game?” because we were talking about it in such detail LOL. we all traded battletags before i had to go. it felt really amazing to be able to just literally talk to strangers about something i love and have such an amazing conversation like that. it felt so awesome to just be connecting to people so deeply all the time. 

im going to try to preserve the memory of being able to connect to people like that, as i came home and felt isolated and disconnected from everything again. i want to keep riding the coattails of this positivity as long as i can so i’m not going to go into the details of that. a lot of us really felt we could come out of our shells; i kept stressing how “safe” blizzcon was; with all of the focus i’ve been making in therapy on vulnerability, connection, isolation, and the need to feel worthy of being loved, i want to keep these memories at the forefront while i try to forge a better future for myself.

i really hope i can go again next year!

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Exchange Romance - Chapter 10

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this took a couple of days to go up but I had a lot of trouble writing it for some reason. It is all fluff though so hopefully you like it. I probably won’t be posting as often after this update because I go back to school on Monday so I’m not sure how much time I’ll have to write. A huge shoutout to @rubyventure for being so supportive and encouraging while I've been writing this ❤️. Please let me know what you think of this chapter and leave me a comment :) (also Tumblr hates me and I put a ‘Keep Reading’ cut in but it’s not showing up on mobile. Sorry!)

Word Count: 4,031 (sorry that it’s a bit shorter than normal)

Ch. 1 // Ch. 2 // Ch. 3 // Ch. 4 // Ch. 5 // Ch. 6 // Ch. 7 // Ch. 8 // Ch. 9 // AO3 link

It had been almost a month since Cheryl’s party and Betty and Jughead hadn’t seemed to be able to get a second alone. Fred had been keeping the boys busy on the construction site, finding them plenty of work since a lot of the crew had gotten sick in the cold weather. They’d both been overwhelmed with homework as soon as school started meaning that the only time they were together without Ronnie and Archie was to study for tests or finish assignments. One Saturday morning, Betty had decided she’d had enough.

Betts: Are you free today?

Juggie: I have nothing planned but it sounds like you might be about to change that

Betts: You know me too well. You want to come over? I don’t think anyone else is home. I’m in the mood for a movie marathon

Juggie: I’m pretty sure Ronnie is here so escaping her sounds great. There’s only so much third wheeling I can handle

Betts: See you soon?

Juggie: On my way xx

Betty smiled at his text before realising that she was still in her pyjamas. She knew that he had already seen her like that but she figured she might as well put a bit of effort in. She’d just finished slipping on her comfiest sweater when she heard a knock at the door, causing her to rush towards it without a second thought.

“That was quick,” Betty remarked as Jughead walked into the apartment, kissing her forehead briefly before replying.

“I may or may not have left as soon as I got your text.” Jughead eyes finally met hers, a shy smile crossing his lips at the confession. Betty crossed the small space between them and wrapped her arms around his neck, standing on her toes so their lips could meet. Jughead’s arms wrapped around her waist, holding her closer. She slowly pulled away from the kiss only to rest her head against his chest.

“I missed you Juggie,” Betty whispered softly. Jughead kissed the top of her hair before resting his chin on the top of her head.

“I missed you too Betts.” Neither of them knows how long they stayed there, holding each other tight and never really wanting to let go. They both reluctantly untangled their arms when Jughead began shivering slightly.

“You ok Jug?” Betty asked, her voice laced with concern.

“I’m fine, just a bit cold. There’s a lot of snow outside today so my boots got soaked through walking here, my jacket a bit as well.” Betty silently took his hand and led him through to the living room, sitting down in front of the fire. Jughead took off his jacket and shoes, placing them in front of the heat in a position he hoped would help them dry. Betty grabbed some blankets from her room before sitting down on the floor in front of the fire, motioning for her boyfriend to join her. Jughead sat down behind her, leaning his back against the couch as Betty grabbed his arms and wrapped them around her. She snuggled into him before grabbing one of the blankets and throwing over both of them.

“I’ve always loved sitting in front of a fire, especially wrapped up in blankets when it’s stormy outside. It always made me feel safe.” Betty said, looking straight ahead at the roaring flames.

“Whenever I had a sleepover at Archie’s house in winter, his mum would always buy us marshmallows and we’d make s'mores in the fireplace in the living room while we watched cartoons. Archie would always spend the longest time trying to find the perfect spot to make the marshmallow just the right colour and then end up getting distracted by the cartoon and turning the marshmallow black. We’d go through a whole bag of marshmallows but Archie would only ever end up eating a handful.” Betty could feel his laugh vibrate through his chest as she snuggled in closer to him, a laugh falling from her lips at the thought of Jughead and Archie as kids. Betty’s phone buzzed from where she’d left it across the room and she reluctantly stood up to grab it.

Ronnie: Hey B, because of the snow everyone’s been told to stay inside so I’m stuck here. Hope you’ll be ok by yourself x

Betts: Ok, thanks V. Jug got here not long ago so I think I’ll be fine. Have a good day x

“Everything ok babe?” Jughead asked from where he was still sitting on the floor.

“Because of the snow everyone’s been told to stay indoors. Looks like I’ll be stuck with you for the rest of the day,” Betty said playfully as she walked over to him.

“I think we’ll manage,” Jughead smiled, pulling Betty down on his lap and showering her face in kisses.

‘Juggie stop! It tickles,” Betty exclaimed through laughs as she tried to wiggle her way out of his arms. He stopped kissing her only to bring his fingers up to tickle her sides seconds late, giving her no relief. Eventually she managed to escape his grasp, collapsing onto the floor in a fit of giggles as Jughead followed her down. They lay beside each other, looking up at they ceiling as they continued laughing, both of them slightly out of breath. All of a sudden, Betty sat up.

“I have an idea.”

——————–

Two hours, six blankets, twenty four safety pins, and a mountain of pillows later, Jughead and Betty were lying inside their newly constructed fort. Betty’s head was resting across Jughead’s chest, his fingers absentmindedly running through her hair.

“I have to say, this is one of the better forts I’ve made,” Betty thought out loud as she stared up at the twinkle lights they’d strung across the blanket ceiling. “But now I’m hungry and I can’t be bothered moving.” Jughead’s grumbling stomach punctuated her sentence and they both burst out laughing, holding onto each other for a moment longer before reluctantly escaping the confines of their fort.

“I’m pretty sure we have leftover pizza but I don’t know how much there is, we might have to make something,” Betty said as she took Jughead’s hand and lead him towards the kitchen.

“What kind of monster has leftover pizza?” Jughead asked, his face morphed into a look of shock. Betty laughed as she walked over to the fridge, leaning up on her tiptoes to grab the boxes that were stacked on the top shelf. Her fingers skimmed the corner but she couldn’t quite grasp it and ended up pushing it further into the fridge. Jughead saw his girlfriend’s struggle and chuckle to himself, causing Betty to turn around and shoot him a steely look.

“You gonna help me or what?” She asked, her eyes cold but her voice playful.

“No that’s ok, I just got comfy,” Jughead said innocently as he sat down on one of the tall bar stools.

“Ok, good thing I can reach the vegetables then. How does salad sound?” Betty didn’t think she’d ever seen Jughead move so fast as he jumped up and easily grabbed the pizza off the shelf, shutting the fridge before Betty could get any other healthy ideas. She doubled over with laughter at the smug look of accomplishment on his face as he put the boxes on the counter. They teased and laughed as they ate their pizza. Jughead insisted on eating cold because apparently it was healthier, a fact Betty found very hard to believe, especially given the amount Jughead consumed.

After the box was empty, they returned to the safety and warmth of their fort and covered themselves in blankets once more. Betty sat up with her back against the pillow mountain, Jughead’s head resting on her legs, claiming it was so his cold feet could be closer to the fire but Betty knew it was just because he liked her playing with his hair.

“Your turn to pick the movie,” she said softly to him, brushing that one stray lock of his raven coloured hair out of his eyes.

“I’m in a mafia kinda mood so ‘The Godfather’?” Jughead suggested, causing Betty to let out a soft laugh.

“How can you be in a ‘mafia kinda mood’?” Betty asked pointedly, already pulling the movie up on her laptop.

“The better question is how can you not?” Jughead waggled his eyebrows playfully as the opening music started playing through the tinny speakers, both of them humming along. Betty’s fingers returned to his hair, running through it mindlessly as they both focused on the screen, watching intently as the story unfolded before their eyes. About an hour into the movie the fairy lights turned off and the town outside the window was dark, hidden behind a thick curtain of snow.

“Crap.” Jughead muttered.

“Good thing I charged my laptop beforehand,” Betty said optimistically, turning her attention back to the screen and trying not to freak out. She could handle the dark at night when she went to sleep but she wasn’t the biggest fan of being plunged into it unexpectedly. Jughead could see her jaw clench slightly and feel her hand still in his hair. He sat up and shuffled over so he was sitting beside her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close before kissing her temple.

“It’s ok Betts,” he reassured her, feeling her curling closer into him at his words.

“Do you think we could finish this later? Blackouts don’t really put me in a marfia kinda mood,” Betty said quietly, looking up at Jughead with a cheeky smile. He kissed her nose and she stuck her tongue out at him, causing him to laugh. Betty loved the feeling of his laugh when she was curled up against his chest. She revelled in the warmth that ran through her whenever she made him happier, even in the smallest ways. He kissed her temple once more before unravelling her from him gently.

“Wait here, I’ll be right back.”

——————–

Jughead returned from his mysterious mission to find Betty curled up by the window. She had a thick green blanket wrapped around her shoulders and she was staring intently out the window, unaware of his presence.

“Betty,” Jughead said softly, not wanting to startle her.

“Mhmm,” she replied without turning towards him.

“Everything ok?” He asked, approaching her cautiously after depositing two bags on one of the many tables in the room.

“Yeah, yeah. I just like watching the snow. It makes everything seem so peaceful and quiet.” Betty finally broke out of her reverie to look at him, sending him a small smile as he walked up to her and hugged her from behind, pulling her closer and resting his chin on her head. Betty placed a soft kiss his arm, relaxing into him. They both looked out the window for a long while, watching the snow fall and losing themselves in their own thoughts. Eventually, Jughead unwrapped his arms and she shuffled around to face him.

“I have something for you.” A confused and curious look crossed Betty’s face as Jughead crossed the room and grabbed a bag off the table where he’d left it moments earlier. He returned to Betty and handed it to her. She opened it and held it up to the window, hoping the little light it provided was enough to make the contents of the bag visible.

“Jug! Thank you thank you thank you! Where did you find them?” Betty asked as she pulled one of the many candles out of the large bag.

“Ron once forced me to help her set up for a halloween party or something and I was in charge of candles. I’m kind of surprised they haven’t been moved but I get the feeling they don’t get used very often. There’s matches in the bag as well.” Betty hopped up from he seat and kissed his cheek, bouncing around the room to try and find a home for all the candles.

“I also found marshmallows and skewers,” Jughead said as he pulled them out of the second bag, placing them next to the fire. Betty finished lighting the last candle and then came over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and leaning up so their foreheads touched.

“There’s no one else I’d rather be stuck in a blackout with,” she whispered softly, blue eyes meeting green.

“I love you Betts,” Jughead said. Betty leant forward and pressed her lips against his, soft and sweet. They held each other for a moment longer before sitting down and opening up the bag of marshmallows. Jughead’s arm rested in its usual position around Betty’s shoulders and her head subconsciously onto his shoulder as the held out their sticks. They spent the next half an hour in a comfortable silence, both of them content to just sit in each other’s presence and watch the flames lick at the marshmallows, turning the soft pinks to brown.

Once the packet was empty and they’d both eaten a sufficient amount of sugar, Jughead pulled out his phone and put his music on shuffle before extending a hand to Betty.

“Care to dance babe?” A bright smile crossed her face at the gesture, pausing for a second before she nodded eagerly.

“If you insist,” she said with a giggle. They stood up rather ungracefully and then started dancing around the living room, both a mess of laughter and smiles. Jughead span her around in circles and she tried to return the favour, a task that proved to be rather awkward due to his height.

“Where did you learn to dance like that Juggie?” Betty asked as she stepped on his toes for the fifth time in as many minutes.

“Jellybean was very persistent.” Betty laughed again, imagining Jughead as a child while he pranced around the room with his little sister.

“She seems like a great kid,” she said gently, leaning into his chest.

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool,” Jughead said and Betty could hear the sad smile in voice as he thought about his sister. She ducked her head up and placed a soft kiss on his cheek before returning to her previous position.

“I miss my sister too.” They stood there in each other’s arms, moving to the music but not really hearing it, until Jughead’s phone ran out of songs and the world outside the frosty window turned dark.

——————–

“Jug, I don’t care. You can’t sleep in denim,” Betty argued as she shuffled through her closet, searching for something which would have any remote chance of fitting.

“It’s fine, really Betts, I don’t mind,” Jughead tried to convince her from his spot on her bed. Betty refused to answer as she carried on her search, refusing to back down.

“Here, this should fit.” Betty chucked a large t-shirt at him, a satisfied grin on her face. The t-shirt was white with a colourful camp logo plastered on the front. In other words, it didn’t exactly look like Betty’s normal wardrobe.

“Where did that come from?” Jughead asked, trying to sound nonchalant but not doing too well.

“Oh, um, it’s Kevin’s,” Betty said, her eyes trained to the carpet.

“Why do you have Kevin’s t-shirt?” Now Jughead just sounded curious as he shrugged off his flannel and pulled the offending shirt on over his singlet. He knew that Kevin was her best friend but he still felt kind of strange that Betty had his shirt in her wardrobe.

“I think I borrowed it at a sleepover one time and forgot to give it back. I wear it when I get homesick,” Betty confessed as she turned around to find her own pyjamas. Jughead silently stood up from the bed and walked up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist in what he hoped was a comforting action. She wasn’t very comfortable talking about her feelings which Jughead suspected was largely due to a childhood lead by Alice Cooper. Betty struggled to admit when she was feeling sad or lonely or tired or overwhelmed but Jughead was starting to recognise her tells. Sometimes she clenched her jaw, or brushed imaginary dirt off her sweater, or avoided eye contact, or played with her hair incessantly. Normally he could calm her down with a touch or whispered words of encouragement but sometimes she needed more than that. Luckily, this wasn’t one of those times. Jughead could feel her melt into him as she continued shuffling through her drawer, eventually settling on long flannel pants and an old t-shirt.

“How do you do that?” Betty asked, finally turning to face him.

“Do what?”

“You always know how to make me feel better,” she said simply.

“I don’t know if you heard but I was kind of the social outcast before you came around. I like to think I’m good at reading people,” Jughead replied softly, dropping his forehead to rest against hers as her arms reached up around his neck

“Jughead Jones, I love you.”

“I love you Betty Cooper.” The kiss was soft but so full of emotion that Betty was left gasping for air.

“I need to go and get my pyjamas on,” she said breathlessly, leaning into him once more. He placed a single kiss on her temple before she unwrapped her arms and walked towards the bathroom. Jughead pulled off his jeans, leaving him in his boxers and Kevin’s t-shirt, before jumping under the covers of Betty’s bed and pulling the blankets up around him. He grabbed his phone and book off the floor, turning on the torch and flipping to the dog eared page.

Betty emerged not long after, dumping her clothes in her laundry hamper before joining him under the covers and curling into his side. She placed a tiny kiss on his shoulder before stealing half of his blankets and burying herself under them. Jughead chuckled to himself before putting turning off his phone and putting down his book. He turned to face her and placed one arm on her hip, pulling them closer together.

“Goodnight Betts,” he said gently.

“Mhmm,” she hummed with her eyes closed, curling closer into his as sleep dragged her under.

——————–

Betty felt like she was in a furnace and proceeded to kick off all the blankets once her limbs had woken up. Jughead was still asleep and stirred slightly at her movements, wrapping his arm tighter around her so she couldn’t escape. Betty kissed the end of his nose, giggling quietly when he scrunched it up. She managed to reach over to her dresser and grab her phone without waking Jughead up any further. Her phone lit up with countless messages from Ronnie, Hermione, and even Alice.

Ronnie: Sorry I can’t get home! My shoes will be ruined in this weather and I’ll probably break an ankle without any light. Hopefully Jughead’s keeping you occupied…

Ronnie: Archiekins told me to tell you to tell Jughead that he doesn’t need to help Fred tomorrow

Hermione: I hope you girls are ok, Hiram and I will be home tomorrow evening. Let Smithers know if you need anything.

Alice: Wear warm clothing and avoid going outside.

Betty let out a silent laugh at her mother’s message. How is it possible that Alice can’t manage to figure out timezones after five months but she knew as soon as there was a snowstorm? That woman would always be a mystery.

She replied to all of her messages, reassuring everyone that they were fine but skillfully avoiding telling Hermione and her mother that it was only Jughead and her in the huge apartment. Ronnie replied immediately saying that the snow had started to clear so she’d me coming home later that morning.

Jughead woke up a short while later to find Betty awake in front of him. A sleepy smile crossed his face at the sight of her lying there reading his book, her cheeks slightly flushed from the warmth of the blankets and her hair messy from sleep.

“Hey,” Jughead said quietly, his voice still hoarse.

“Hey,” Betty replied, looking up from his book and smiling at him.

“I missed this.” He said simply.

“Missed what?”

“Waking up next to you and having you all to myself without school work or actual work or Ron.” Betty laughed, curling into him once again.

“I missed you too,” she said as she placed a soft kiss on his lips. “But I was just about to make breakfast so do you wanna come help?” Jughead chuckled and kissed her forehead before pulling back the few blankets Betty hadn’t stolen in the night. They made their way to the kitchen and settled into a routine they had somehow done several times over the last few months.

——————–

Veronica let herself into the apartment mid morning and was hit with the smell of bacon and pancakes, she made her way to the kitchen but stopped in her tracks when she spotted a giant blanket fort in the middle of the living room.

“Well that definitely wasn’t there before,” Veronica muttered to herself before continuing on her journey towards the kitchen. She opened the door slowly when she got to the kitchen, already able to hear two distinct voices. A happy smile crossed her face once she opened it fully. Betty was standing by the stove flipping pancakes while Jughead set the table, both of them laughing and sending each other loving looks.

“Hey guys, how was your blackout?” Ronnie asked as if she hadn’t interrupted anything. Her surprise entrance caused Betty to jump and she dropped a pancake on the floor, causing them all to burst out in a fit of laughter.

“It was fine thanks V. How was Archie?” Betty asked once she’d recovered, carrying a loaded plate of pancakes to the table.

“You would think that being locked in a house with Archie for 24 hours would be a lot of fun, and I’m sure it would’ve been if his dad wasn’t also locked in that same house with us,” Ronnie said as she grabbed some grapes out of the fruit bowl.

“At least Fred’s nice. I couldn’t imagine being stuck in a house with my mother for 24 hours.” Betty shivered at the thought. She couldn’t handle the hour long phone calls with her mother and they weren’t even in the same country let alone the same room. It certainly was going to be interesting living with her again when she went home.

“Yeah but it’s not so easy to sleep with archie when his dad is watching our every mood,” Ronnie said as if it was no big deal. Betty choked on the piece of pancake she had just been eating and Jughead quickly rushed over to her and rubbed her back.

“A little but too much much information there Ron,” Jughead said with the steely look he got in his eye whenever he was being protective of Betty. “You ok babe?”

“Yeah, nah. I’ll be fine,” she assured him although her voice wasn’t quite normal.

“I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand what you say B,” Ronnie said in fascination as she joined them at the table, helping herself to a pancake. “By the way, why is there a fort in the living room?” She asked as she poured herself some orange juice, taking a moment to observe the couple before starting on her pancake.

“The real question is why wasn’t there a fort there in the first place?” Jughead quipped as he returned to his seat, loading four pancakes onto his plate and cutting into all of them at once, taking a huge bite as he maintained eye contact with Ronnie.

“Nice shirt,” was all she said in response before she left the room, abandoning her pancake and leaving a confused Jughead in her wake. He looked down and realised that the shirt wasn’t from a camp, as he had originally thought, but rather advertising an LGBTQ+ club at Kevin’s school. Betty laughed as his cheeks grew red at the realisation, wondering how Betty forgot to mention that.

“Shut up,” he said with a grin as he took another bite of his pancakes.

[princessdevy03]

Tumblr Exclusive!!!!

For @anybodihearme and Chicago House…

House Music

To say that Kevin was annoyed was an understatement.

The team lost their away game and as the head quarterback, it was all his fault.

Edd couldn’t come to his game because he had a swim meet to go to on the other side of the state.

This all meant that they had spent the entire weekend apart because the football team headed out for their game Friday afternoon and the swim team left first thing Saturday morning for their meet.

Despite their busy schedules, Fridays and Saturdays were schedule date days because they were assured at least a few hours to themselves to get out or just stay in and be together.

But it seemed like the schedule gods hated them both because Saturday would be more than done by the time either got back to town, so they compromised for Sunday.

Except Mother Nature had other plans.

The storm was just an early fall rain shower when it came through Peach Creek and Lemon Brook, but was a full blow thunderstorm by the time it got to Charleston.

Kevin was in Springfield trying to calm down the ravenette over the phone who spent the night in his bed and waited out the storm.

Things were quiet when Edd left for Morgantown in the morning, but then another storm system came through and hung out for the entire day and well into Sunday, dropping damn near two weeks of rain in a few hours.

And softball sized hail.

And three EF3 tornadoes.

Kevin was grateful that Edd wasn’t at the school by himself when all this was going on because he knew that no one would be able to deal with him if he had to ride that mess out by himself.

But it cut into their communication as cell towers were down and the authorities were asking people to conserve their data for emergencies only so they could use the working towers themselves to help people who really needed it, not bored college students wondering when the power and wi-fi were coming back online.

Because he hadn’t heard from him since Saturday night when they commiserated their losses over text as Edd lost all five of his races because he was just too tired from being scared shitless all night from the storm to make any headway in the water, Kevin was his own special brand of worried when the team bus pulled into town and his coach told everyone to head straight for their rooms and make their phone calls to their parents quick.

Kevin wasn’t a fan of calling the two people who cared more about how he made them look to the world than how he felt living in it.

But because the team was a family and he knew a few of the other guys parents would talk to his, especially since Charleston was trying to pick up its pieces that had been scattered by the last major storm of the season, he’d make the call and it would be quicker than quick because he didn’t care to deal with the judgment of losing at the moment.

Especially since his smart ass scaredy cat was incommunicado.

After unloading his gear into his locker, he grabbed his phone and called home.

“Kevin? Where are you?” His mother asked as soon as she picked up the phone.

“At school, we just got back in. Just called to tell you I was ok,” he sighed, trying to sound normal and not as anxious as he felt.

“Well, that’s good to hear. I’ll let your father know when he gets back in. But what happened to you yesterday?!”

Rolling his eyes and praying that his quick walk through the tunnels below the stadium would make him drop the call, even though he knew it wouldn’t, he quickly thought of what he knew was a lie, but would work as a satisfactory answer for her.

“They were just a better team, Ma. We weren’t ready.”

“I guess,” she sighed. “But you need to get them back into it this week. Your father and I aren’t coming to town to see you lose this weekend. It’s homecoming, Kevin.”

“Uh huh. Yeah, I got it, Ma, but I gotta go,” he said tersely, as he exited the stadium and headed for the dorm. “Towers and all that.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Go get some rest. Don’t let that Double Dee guy be bothering you tonight. You need to rest up.”

“Yeah, I’ll make sure my boyfriend leaves me alone,” he groaned as he damn near stormed into he and Edd’s building.

“Kevin, you –“

“Boyfriend,” Kevin said firmly as he slammed a fist on the button to the elevator, too achy to walk up the seven flights of stairs to Edd’s floor.

“You know how we feel about that, Kevin,” she snipped and Kevin promptly ended the call.

The moan he heard coming out of Edd’s closed dorm door as he raised a fist to knock on it shook him before he groaned out a laugh because he knew Edd couldn’t make a sound like that if he tried, and Lord knows Kevin has tried to help him do so.

The squeak that followed was embarrassingly adorable and he shook his head at himself for nearly ruining a moment for the poor girl Edd’s playboy of a roommate had in his bed tonight.

“God, I hope they have condoms,” he thought to himself as he trudged up another four flights of stairs to his own room, needing to shake his conversation with his mother off his weary body.

When he finally got to his room, he was ready to take the beanie-less scholar spinning around in his desk chair into his arms and ravish him senseless, but the way Edd was dressed and the way the room smelled gave him a HUGE pause.

Edd was wearing one of his long sleeved tshirts that the football team got to wear around town to promote their team and the school and a pair of blue yoga pants.

Because the orangey peach of the shirt and the blue of the pants clashed, Edd would never wear the outfit outside of his or Kevin’s room. But because the shirt was Kevin’s, he’d wear it whenever he knew the redhead would be close because Kevin seeing him in his things made him a mush and mushy Kevin was his favorite Kevin and Kevin liked being Edd’s favorite anything.

But room smelled like sex and he could hear a rough voice in the bathroom.

Edd yelped when he slammed the door and stormed over to the bathroom to see who was in the shower that just shut off, only to have Rolf curse him out in what Edd had been telling him for years wasn’t his native tongue, but dialectic, and Ang was ready to kill him.

When he came out of the bathroom, he was more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life, and that includes crying during his first time with Edd.

Edd was still curled up in his chair when he was shoved out of the bathroom, the quilt Kevin’s grandmother brought over from Ireland wrapped around him making him look a bit like a shaman, his wild, dark hair peeking out from the bit of quilt on his head, his eyes dark and thoughtful.

“Uh, Edd?”

Edd didn’t say anything, just merely pointed a finger at Kevin’s bed.

When he sat down on his bed, he noticed that the bed next to his was unmade and Ang’s pink Nike duffle bag was next to it, a ripped open box of condoms on top of it.

“Oh, God. Edd did you…?” He asked quietly.

“No, they were sleeping when I got here,” Edd said as he stared at the wall. “I took a shower and changed and began working on my studies while I waited for you. They only woke up about twenty minutes ago.” Then he turned an angry gaze on the sheepish man on the bed in front of him and said in a hissed whisper, “What in God’s name were you thinking storming in here like that?!”

“That my boyfriend was wearing his this doesn’t leave my room clothes in a room that smelled like sex with someone in the damn bathroom!” Kevin exclaimed, desperate to be believed and understood.

Rolf and Ang came out of the bathroom, at this exact moment, their clothes looking a bit rumpled from dressing so quickly in the small space and Edd’s head dropped on an exasperated sigh.

Ang grabbed her bag, jacket, and shoes and ran out the door, Rolf not too far behind.

When Rolf slammed and locked the door behind him, Kevin turned to see Edd with his hands cupping his face, blue eyes hurt and angry.

“Edd, I –“

“How could you?!” Edd asked, flabbergasted that Kevin would ever think that he would cheat on him, let alone in his own damn room with a roommate dating the biggest know it all on campus.

“I…I dunno,” Kevin muttered as he looked at his hands that threw four interceptions in the first quarter alone in the game the day before.

Edd flew out of the chair and the quilt fell to the floor as he shoved Kevin back onto the bed and straddled him, jabbing a thin finger in his chest.

“Don’t you dare ever think that I would do something like that to you!” He all but screamed at him. “I love you too damn much to do that, you know that, Kev!”

“I’m so sorry, Dee,” Kevin whispered, wanting nothing more than to make the hurt in Edd’s eyes go away. “I didn’t mean it, honest!”

Edd wrapped a shaking fist in his collar to hoist him up nose to nose and did his best not to cry as he said, “If I ever cheat on you of all things, I will be in jail because I will kill you dead for doing something that would make me want to do that in the first place!”

Then he shoved him back on the bed and ran a shaky hand through his hair as he collapsed into the chair again and rolled halfway across the room, sweeping up the quilt made with love, but didn’t love them.

A budding friendship in middle school was encouraged as Kevin needed a level headed peer to help keep him out of trouble and Edd could use the cool points being friends with a popular guy like Kevin provided.

But puberty is confusing and feelings that were being sparked by silly gapped tooth grins and cool smirks couldn’t be denied.

What was done in the darkness came to light and in an effort to seem tolerant, their relationship was okayed by family and friends alike, but reality was far colder.

Eddy didn’t trust Kevin at all and Ed only wanted to see Double Dee happy, keen on making sure Kevin made him smile all the time to both Kevin and Edd’s chagrin.

Nazz was perturbed that her chance with the boy next door was shot all to hell and stopped speaking to Kevin for weeks, doing absolutely nothing to keep their other popular classmate’s cruel behavior at bay until shit came to a head and Kevin got suspended for kicking the boys track captain’s ass for pushing Edd to exhaustion during gym.

Kevin was suspended for two weeks; one week out of school and one week in, leaving Edd to essentially fend for himself. Even with his like named friends help, and mostly because of it, the target on his back grew, so Rolf stepped in and his new girlfriend from the city became Edd’s bodyguard of sorts.

The farmer didn’t understand why Casanova Kevin was falling all over himself for the smart, but still exceptionally dorky Double Dee Ed Boy, but if Kevin was happy and Edd was happy, he was happy for them and would stand with them because people should be happy.

And his girlfriend loved to give people a good old fashioned whatfor when it came to things that were really no concern of theirs.

When Edd snapped on Marie for trying to flirt with him during the long two weeks Kevin wasn’t around, it was the final nail in the coffin for the love she had for him. Especially because it put the entire school on notice that what he and the hottest guy in town had was real after Kevin made a long Facebook post about how his dork was the best boyfriend in the damn place for finally putting Marie in hers.

What shocked everyone was that Marie actually respected it and left him alone in the sense that she didn’t flirt with him anymore, but didn’t mind messing with people who messed with him.

Seeing her neighbors and a new girl step up to help the one guy she knew wouldn’t hurt a fly and didn’t deserve to be so mistreated just because of who he was, Nazz called a truce of sorts, and the bullies back down.

But home wasn’t home anymore.

Edd’s parents casual disregard for their son didn’t change and they looked at Kevin as a leech at best, thinking he wanted nothing more than Edd’s smarts and allowance, as they were one of the better off families in town.

But his work ethic in school, on the field, and at his stocker job at the candy store, opened their eyes a bit to who he really was, so they left the issue alone to the point that they barely spoke to the boy when he was around and let it be known that their lawyer would handle any issues that came up.

Edd never got to have dinner with Kevin’s parents on Sundays like Nazz and a few of his other ex-girlfriends once did, his invitations to the house were only during publically acknowledged holidays. And even then they were treated as buddies who were a bit too close, not the lovers they are.

When Kevin got his scholarship, he thanked Edd first for not only his help in making sure he studied and did his best in class, but for believing he could do it when no one else did.

And their relationships with their family and friends became like flashbacks in movies because of it.

Rolf and Ang stuck with them, everyone else made their way to the sidelines to wait things out.

When Edd took a grant to come study at the same school and not the private research university in North Carolina his parents met at and graduated from, Kevin shook him, then hugged him and cried.

Ang would tease that he didn’t want to have to break new friends in, but they all knew the truth.

He loved him.

What college never prepared them for was the social life they would have to build away from home.

The cute hotshot QB spent most of his time shaking off tittering sorority girls, while the budding scientist had to make sure his guard was up against cold eyed bad boys who were just as athletic as Kevin, smooth talking smart girls who liked to make him blush, and infatuated TA’s who were blown away by how smart he was.

It was as if everything that attracted them to each other was now trying to rip them apart.

Because their academic lives were spent on the opposite sides of campus with Edd in labs and Kevin in gyms, meeting in the middle became their thing.

They would take lunch in the student union at the center of campus, do all of their shopping together at the Wal-Mart in town, study sessions in the library in full view of everyone put them on all kinds of radars, most positive, some not so much.

Most got the point after seeing them canoodle all night in a dark corner at a house party during the football team’s bye week.

Ang would spend the rest of their college careers telling off the rest and loving every second of it.

But tonight, when he’s tired of the judgmental words and looks, tired of trying to be everything for everyone who really doesn’t care about him, tired of worrying about him and them and just wanting it to all be ok for once, he drops the ball.

Hard.

Hearing him sniffle broke his heart, but if there’s one thing Kevin can do, he can do for Edd.

He got off the bed and slowly walked to the dresser Edd was sitting in front of, curled back up in the quilt and wiping his eyes.

The wind whirled outside and Edd went stiff, which made it easy for Kevin to pick him up and carry him to his bed.

He laid him down and pulled him into a cuddle as he said, “I’m sorry, Baby.”

Edd knew he was because the sincere remorse in his eyes from his first apology that night told him that he knew he had messed up.

But what Edd truly wanted to know was why Kevin would truly think such things in the first place.

Redheaded tempers aside, he wasn’t one to come flying in the room the way he did unless something on the other side set him off and then the domino effect of Edd’s clothes and now only slightly pungent sent of sex in the air made things worst.

Kevin was mad and then he was sad and scared, and now he’s just so sorry and Edd’s at a loss.

“What happened, Kevin?” He asked, desperate of answers to make things right with them again.

The ringing of Kevin’s phone made his heart stop, but the odd ring of the room’s phone and knock at the door had him confused.

The familiar ring tone Kevin had assigned to his father echoed around the room as the ring from the room’s phone blared and the knocking on the door got louder.

“Don’t answer that,” Kevin said in a tone that meant that he was trying to spare Edd’s feelings at what could be on the other line as he yanked his cell phone out of his pocket, walked to the small table the room phone was on and then headed to the door.

Only the athlete’s had phones in their rooms just in case, and they rang normally if someone on campus was calling. The ring was just a bit off if it were off campus.

And the only people to call this room from off campus were Rolf’s and Kevin’s parents.

He yanked the door open and gave a curt, “Yeah?” to everyone who wanted his attention at this very moment.

“Parents?” The assistant offensive line coach asked and Kevin nodded. “Ok, get some rest then,” the coach sighed and Kevin cocked his head as Edd set up a bit straighter in the bed wondering what the man’s weary sigh meant. “We might not be having morning conditioning because power is out at the gym right now and they don’t know when it’s going to be up again because it isn’t an essential building. Keep your phone on and we’ll keep ya posted, ok?”

Kevin gave the man a quick shrug and the coach chuckled as he walked away.

When the jock stepped back into the room and closed the door, he slid to the floor and closed his eyes as two people who honestly cared more about an image that the no one but them cared about checked back in with him.

His mother was in his ear to listen to his father and his father was hammering him in the other with the same “What happened?!” questions his mother had.

That his coaches and teammates had.

That Edd had.

That he had for himself.

To be honest, the freshman quarterback was overwhelmed and not used to being on such a big field so far away from home with no real support on the sidelines or in the stands.

His parents just couldn’t come.

His friends in the cul-de-sac had their own school and work duties to attend to.

Ang had to work and Rolf was her ride as her car was acting up and both Rolf and Kevin were too busy with school and their sports teams to really devote much time in fixing it.

And Edd was on the other side of the state fighting his own battles that he couldn’t win.

Every toss of the ball was just him throwing his shot out to the world and missing. And what the world volleyed back hit him in places that were so deep and dark that he wondered if he’d ever be okay.

Edd watched him from the bed as he drew further and further in on himself with every murmured, “Uh, huh…Okay.”

He silently got up and went to his laptop and brought up a Spotify playlist that got him through many a study session, but would also bring clarity to his mind when he was just overwhelmed and stressed out from it all.

It would also be the soundtrack to many makeout sessions with his boyfriend and on a few occasions tune their afterglow.

As the wind blew outside the window, he turned down the volume of the jazz playlist he had going because the bass of the new playlist didn’t need the volume the more brassy playlist did.

Then he closed his eyes and waited.

As the soothing sounds of the house music that made his house a home, made their rooms just a bit more cozy, and whose soothing tones eased their worries away, they both relaxed.

Edd only barely registered the beep of a phone disconnecting a call. Some shuffling let him know Kevin was up and moving around the room so he was feeling better which was more than Edd could ask for considering the weekend he had.

They both had.

When the chair spun around, his arms flew open and so did his eyes.

And in them Kevin found the understanding he had been craving for the past thirty two hours.

Arms wrapped around bodies and lips connected as they tumbled back to the bed.

But Kevin was still holding back and Edd wasn’t having it.

He arched his back and squirmed into Kevin’s touch, silently pleading for more, but Kevin’s response was slow and light like always.

“Kevin,” he managed to moan as kisses left his mouth and started tenderly down his chin and neck.

He caught a light snicker but knew better.

Grabbing the redhead’s face, he looked him in the eyes and said, “Don’t hold back.”

Kevin looked at him in shock, but the pleading look in Edd’s eyes was easing some of his worries away.

But only some.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” the redhead whispered, scared out of his wits at Edd’s request because he knew what he wanted, but wasn’t sure if the ravenette could take it.

“You won’t,” Edd giggled, a bit surprised at himself for encouraging him, but knew Kevin needed this.

“Edd.”

“I trust you, Kev,” Edd said as he leaned up and nuzzled his neck, lightly kissing the pulsing vein that resided there as Kevin bit back a whine. “Please. You need this.”

“I need you.”

“Then take me.”

Edd barely had time to gasp before their pants hit the deck, a shirt and hoodie quickly followed.

Shaking hands found lube and a condom, but a steady finger found the one place in Edd that completely stopped his world.

“Baby, breathe,” Kevin ordered and Edd’s chest heaved in response.

When his breathing came back to a level Kevin was comfortable with, the hand that did so much wrong yesterday made Edd feel so right.

He buried his face in Kevin’s neck to muffle his strained moans as the redhead pushed himself inside, while the redhead growled into the pillow.

The muffled moans slowly eased into breathy pants of pleasure and whines of need and something in Kevin started to break.

As he slowly moved, Edd only barely moved back, but he gripped his shoulders and kissed his ear as the bass of the music resounding around the room matched their pounding heartbeats.

Each song’s rhythm was never ending thrumming beat that Kevin’s hips quickly matched, and soon, so did Edd’s as Kevin’s grip on them controlled his movement and Edd could do nothing more but comply to a situation he damn near begged for.

As his back arched, the only thing keeping him anchored on Earth was one hand under the headboard.

The other was slapped over his mouth to muffle his gritted screams.

The visual was an ego boost to Kevin’s busted self-esteem.

He was the one that was making Edd feel this way.

He was the one that could drive the quiet, conservative dork to a place where he was begging to be touched in a way that only someone with special permissions could do so.

Kevin would always have the permission; he just had to take it.

The ball of emotions in his soul cracked when Edd grabbed the bed with both hands and bit his lower lip on a scream.

As that lithe chest heaved again and again, thin fingers reached to grasp Kevin’s wider ones on his hips.

Then he moaned.

And Kevin lost it.

Edd held on as he was pounded into oblivion, barely registering what Kevin was saying as the wound up jock watched his dick jerk in and out of his ass and Edd’s own leaking cock bounce on a belly sculpted by a three times a week Pilates regimen that Kevin thanked the Sexy Flexibility Gods every time they made love for.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

“Jesus, Edd. You’re so fucking hot like this.”

“Ass so tight, I could cum just looking at you.”

“Fucking shit, I’m gonna scream if you don’t quit.”

The wind blew hard enough to make the lights flicker, but Edd was too far gone to notice, let alone care.

Thunder shook the building, and Kevin shook Edd.

Lighting flashed outside and their glazed over eyes met for the tiniest of milliseconds.

Hard green that had been so frustrated had given away to a soft emerald that only wanted peace and affection.

Bright blue held all that he had ever wanted and more.

Sheets of rain fell and Kevin barely heard the faint whisper of his name as the power went out and Edd sat up and moaned out, “Oh, dear Gawd!”

Thankfully, his laptop wasn’t connected to anything but the wi-fi and though it went out with the power, the music played on, as it had been downloaded to his computer and would stream on no matter what happened.

So all anyone heard besides the frightened screams of silly co-eds, was the music of others who’s playlists were like Edd’s.

But Kevin didn’t care.

Edd clinging to him as he shook them both harder than the wind blowing outside and moaning his name over and over again was all he cared to hear.

Ever.

When they came back to Earth, the power came back on and everyone in the building cheered.

Except for them.

They were a bit too busy making out to notice anything but the man wrapped up in his arms.

Right up until a crack of thunder helped segue another heart pumping song.

Edd yelped and Kevin held him tighter until he started breathing normally again.

“Wanna shower?” Kevin cooed as he pulled out of him and Edd nodded tightly as the act sent another rush of endorphins over him, making the crick in his back spark a bit in pain.

They sat on the floor of the shower, as standing wasn’t feasible for either of them.

Kevin playfully gave him a shampoo Mohawk, and Edd scrubbed away the sex and sweat, the aches and pains from their athletics, and as they lay in a steamy afterglow, things felt fresh and new again.

Edd insisted they get out before they fell asleep, Kevin countering that the only difference between his bed and the shower was that one was wet and the other was dry and being in a wet space with Edd was always nice.

Edd could do nothing more but groan and shut off the water, making his point loud and clear.

As they cuddled up in the small bed, the music turned down low enough not to bother the neighbors but still loud enough to drown out the storm, Kevin whispered so many I love yous against his forehead.

The sweet gesture warmed Edd’s heart not only because he loved to hear Kevin say those three little words to him like that, but because he was showing it, too.

Wrapped up in all the sheets and blankets, the warm quilt that always smelled like Kevin in top of them, he felt safe and warm.

But the whispers meant the redhead was looking out the window and keeping an on the storm outside that scared him to his core.

He knew it was an irrational fear, but being in love with Kevin was even more irrational by most people’s standards.

So he would take the love that felt as natural as the rain pouring out of the sky at that moment and let it comfort and protect him from the world that wanted nothing more than to scare him into perpetual hiding.

“I love you, too.”

Four words that made the world right again.

Four words that brought peace to his soul and affection to his being.

Four words that he would fight the universe herself to keep, but knew that as long as he came to where he was, he would never lose them.

But Edd came to him tonight and it made him fall in love with him all the more.

He was there and he was his.

The music and the rain lulled them to sleep and when the new day broke through and Kevin headed to morning conditioning with the football team, a promise was in his ear as song ran on repeat in his heart.

“I’ll be here when you get home.”

Be yourself, you gotta be yourself and no one else…

[homoose]

Love Has a Learning Curve: Part VII (x OC)

Summary: Maggie tries to make things right, with a little push from her mama.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Category: hurt/comfort

Warnings/Includes: none

Word count: 5.8k

a/n: I know, I know— please just let our babies be happy ♥️ and so it was. Also, big ups to my tumblr gf @idmakeitbehave​ for being my beta the last two chapters.

Series Masterlist

———

One week. 

That’s how long it had been since their argument. Spencer had driven back to his apartment in silence, absolutely stunned by the way things had blown up. 

They’d gotten back from the case in Utah on the fifth of January, and he’d driven straight to Maggie’s, ready to give her a belated New Year’s kiss. Immediately upon entering her apartment, he knew something was wrong. Her hug was stiff, her kiss brief, her eye contact minimal. He’d spent the night, but they barely touched, and she left early for work without waking him. He’d let himself out and texted her later in the day to invite her over for dinner. 

Dinner hadn’t been any less awkward, and when he felt awkward, he knew it was bad. He finally couldn’t ignore it any longer, and he’d called it out. He had expected some resistance, but he hadn’t expected that. Maggie never spoke to him with any malice at all, even when he was actually doing something that irritated her. She was the queen of healthy communication. So for her to speak to him like that meant that the underlying issue was much, much worse than he’d originally thought.

He’d gone over their conversations a thousand times, looking desperately for the moment that it went wrong. After some deep consideration, he was certain that something had happened on New Year’s Eve. He just wasn’t sure what. Maggie was insistent that she wasn’t bothered by the declined call, but he still wished he could go back in time and answer it. He was pretty sure the seeds of their argument had sprouted in that moment, regardless of what she said.  

Spencer knew she was a creature of habit, and that sometimes she needed space to process and experience her emotions. And if he was being honest, he needed some space after the argument, too. But usually she would have at least texted him by now. 

He sighed and set down his newspaper, realizing he’d read the same page four times and hadn’t retained any of it. It was Friday, and he knew she was working. But still his fingers itched to dial her number. He picked up the phone, pressing a key to light up the screen yet again. 

No new messages. 

He dropped the phone back to the table with a little more force than was necessary. He decided he’d give her the rest of the weekend. If he didn’t hear from her by Sunday, he’d have to do something. 

…

Maggie dropped her bag on the floor inside the door and turned to lock the deadbolt. She had managed to sneak out of the building without being stopped by Anita, and she thanked the universe for small miracles. 

She didn’t want to have to explain herself. She didn’t want anyone to know what an absolute troll she’d been. Considering that Sam and Spencer had practically become attached at the hip since they’d started hanging out more, Anita was bound to ask about him. 

She showered and ordered Thai food, snuggling down on the couch to watch a movie with Roald. She settled on Dumplin’— a favorite for the body positivity, the southern drawls, and the Dolly Parton drag. 

And then she came to the argument outside of Harpy’s and lost what little emotional stability she had left. 

“Never took you for the type that cares much what people think.”

“I can’t, Bo. And that might make me a coward, but—”

“It does. Willowdean Dixon, I think you’re beautiful. To hell with anyone who’s ever made you feel less than that.”

She didn’t realize she was crying until Roald meowed in distress. She choked out a sob and stroked over his ears, closing her eyes in defeat. “I really fucked this up, huh?”

It had only been one week, but it felt like years since Spencer walked out of her apartment. She’d stayed in bed for the entire weekend, crying on and off. She knew she had no one to blame but herself. Owen had knocked over the first domino, but she’d done nothing to stop the rest from falling. 

Spencer had done everything right. He’d done everything she asked, and she’d thrown it all back in his face. He had made the comparison to Mitchell Park, and he was absolutely right. She’d done the exact same thing, only she had almost a year’s worth of ammunition, and she cut a hell of a lot deeper. 

Roald nuzzled against her, but she nudged him away— she didn’t even deserve the comfort. Instead, she fumbled in the couch cushions for her phone, swiping open the screen and tapping her favorites list, thumb hovering over Spencer’s name. Then she tapped on the name right above it and blew out a breath. 

The line connected and rang three times before she picked up. “Hey, sugar! Your ears must be ringin’, ‘cause I was just thinkin’ about callin’ you.”

“Hey, mama,” Maggie breathed. 

Her mother’s tone changed from chipper to concerned in an instant. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

She leaned forward to the coffee table to grab Spencer’s scarf— somehow left behind in her apartment— rubbing it between her fingers. “I— I really messed up.” 

“Oh, Lord. You need bail money?”

Despite herself, Maggie laughed wetly. “Oh my god, mama. No, I don’t need bail money.”

“Well, if you made bail it can’t be that bad,” Rose insisted. 

“I didn’t— I’m not in jail, for Christ’s sake.” Maggie ran a hand over her face. “I messed things up with Spencer.”

“Well, we can fix that,” Rose responded matter of factly. “What happened?”

“We were fighting, and I said some really, really awful things,” Maggie admitted, tears spilling over her lash line. 

Rose scoffed. “Honey, I say awful things to your father all the time, and we’ve been married almost forty years.”

Maggie heaved a long sigh. “Not like this, mama.” 

Her mother hummed in consideration. “Well, what were y’all fightin’ about?”

“It’s complicated,” Maggie hedged, toying with the fringe of the scarf. 

Rose clicked her tongue. “Do ya want my help or not?” 

Maggie dropped her head back against the couch. “I ran into Owen on New Year’s Eve—”

“Well, I hope you told him to stick it where the sun don’t shine,” Rose practically growled. 

Maggie closed her eyes as the tears tracked hot down her cheeks. “I didn’t. I— I let him get under my skin, and then I didn’t want to tell Spencer about it because it’s embarrassing, but he knew something was wrong, and he wouldn’t stop asking about it.” She had to pause and suck in a hiccuping breath, releasing it on a sob. “So I yelled at him and said all kinds of terrible things, and then he left, and now I think maybe we broke up, and I’ve literally never been so sad in my whole life.” 

There was a long pause on the other end of the phone, and then she heard Rose sniffling. “Really shoulda had your brothers knock the mess out of that son of bitch when we had the chance. He's been gone five years, and he’s still hurtin’ you every chance he gets.”

Maggie swiped uselessly at the tear tracks on her cheeks, sniffling pathetically. “And now I hurt the person who’s spent the last year singlehandedly undoing all of his awful handiwork.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rose cooed. Maggie could hear the creak of the floorboards as her mother walked through her childhood home. “You said he knew somethin’ was wrong, right? I can almost guarantee that he’s still just wonderin’ what’s goin’ on. I know he’s supposed to be a genius, but he’s still a man. And men are dumb, sugar. You gotta spell it out for ‘em. Have you talked to him since?”

“No.” Fresh tears spilled over Maggie’s lashes as the thoughts that had kept her from calling him spilled out of her mouth. “What if it was too far? What if I ruined everything? What if he never wants to speak to me again?”

Ross heaved out a long breath. “That’s a lot of what ifs, Maggie Mae.”

“What if I’m right?” she whispered. 

“And what if you’re not?” Rose countered. “That boy loves you. Anyone could see that, clear as day. He’d do just about anything for you.” Rose paused, and Maggie heard the springs of the bed squeak as she sat. “But you gotta let him, sweetheart. Right now you’re takin’ away his chance to do that. You’re makin’ the decision for him.” 

Maggie listened as her mother’s advice crackled over the line, and for the first time in a week, she felt a tiny sliver of hope. 

“If he doesn’t want to be with you anymore, you need to let him tell you that. Don’t settle for a what if. Find out for sure, or you're gonna spend the rest of your life worryin’ and wonderin’, sugar.” 

…

That evening found Spencer in his usual spot on the couch, reclined against the arm with a book in hand. He’d promised himself he’d give Maggie the weekend to herself— that he’d let her come to him. That didn’t stop him from checking his phone obsessively; it never buzzed with any new calls or messages, but he still looked every seven minutes. 

The sound of the buzzer jolted his body to attention. He checked his watch and drew his brows together before closing his book and scrambling to cross to the intercom, a tiny seed of hope beginning to germinate. He pressed the button to talk, calling, “Yes?” into the speaker box and then listening for the response. 

“Hi.”

Her voice was so quiet that he could barely hear it over the crackle of the speaker. He buzzed her in without hesitation, crossing to the door and opening it immediately. She made her way slowly up the stairs, turning at the top of the landing and pausing.

His heart broke at the sight of her. She looked utterly exhausted, dressed in black sweatpants and a soft purple sweater, a black puffer jacket over top. She was holding his scarf, wringing it in between her hands. Her eyes were ringed red, and the bags under them were worse than his. 

He watched as she crossed the landing, coming to stand quietly in front of him. He’d known something was wrong, but the way she looked now made him wonder just how long she’d been battling whatever private demons she wouldn’t let him in on. 

“I, um.” She cleared her throat, and it was clear she’d been crying from the thickness of her voice. “I have a lot to say— again. But since I was such an asshole, I wanted to give you the opportunity to say anything you need to say first.” 

He’d imagined this conversation countless times over the last week, and never once had he thought it would start like this. “Um. Well. You— you really hurt me.”

She could barely look at him. “I know.”

He swallowed. “Please don’t do that again.” 

She shook her head, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t. I won’t ever again.”

Spencer tucked his hands into the pockets of his lounge pants. “I know I may not be the best at social cues, but I’m a pretty good profiler. And I can tell when something’s wrong.” He raised his eyebrows. “You don’t have to tell me everything. I’m just asking you to tell me when I do something that makes you upset.”

“You— you didn’t do anything wrong. I—” He watched her squeeze her eyes shut. “God, I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m just— I’m sorry for so many things. For lying about being fine, for being up on my high horse about communicating and then not actually doing it, for being an absolute bitch.”

He wanted to argue— she wasn’t a bitch— but he could tell she was far from done. 

“I— I thought therapy was supposed to teach me how to talk about things, but this still feels… impossible to say out loud,” she admitted, fingers fumbling with the fabric of the scarf. “It’s embarrassing and ridiculous. But I— I have deep-seated insecurities. That I’m not really that smart or interesting or particularly special.” 

He thought back to that night in Mitchell Park and felt the guilt all over again. He’d practically said those exact words to her— it was no wonder she was feeling this way. 

“And every person that I’ve ever been with has— really reinforced those ideas, so for a long time they were just… a set part of my self-image,” she explained, dragging a hand over her messy hair. “I thought— I thought that I was over it, but I— I don’t know. Maybe you never really are.”

His brain sorted through every moment of their year together, pinging off the countless examples of her self-doubt and insecurity. She was easily the most wonderful person he knew, but he could clearly see the cracks in the facade if he looked close enough. How had he missed it for so long? 

“And then I met you, and you…” Maggie let out a wry laugh. “You’re easily the most interesting person I’ve ever met, but you made me feel like… I don’t know, like I’m interesting, too. Like I’m worthy of being with you, like I’m— like I’m good enough.”

He felt his heart splintering into a thousand tiny shards— good enough? 

“But I can’t— I still have a hard time believing it sometimes. And I— I’ve been letting myself keep you at arms length. Letting you see parts of me, but… never giving you everything,” she admitted. 

He watched her struggle to get the words out, her voice thick with the act of holding back sobs. He hadn’t realized she was carrying all of this. She was so good at supporting him and loving him through all of his trauma and issues, he hadn’t stopped to consider just how much she needed him, too. 

She continued, “It’s why I took so long to say I love you… why I couldn’t talk to you last week. Because I just—” She shrugged as the tears rolled down her cheeks. “I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. For you to realize that I’m really nothing special. That you’re getting bored, or there’s someone who’s a better fit for you, or one million other things. That I’m needy, and annoying, and too much work.”

A fresh tear tracked down her cheek, and he felt his own eyes filling. She never failed to put a stop to his own insecurities— reminding him that she liked his rambling, that he wasn’t irritating, that he was just the right amount. In his eyes, she was perfect. He would have never guessed she felt this way about herself. 

She continued, “That’s what happened before, and none of those guys were even half as wonderful as you are.” She swiped a hand haphazardly over her cheeks, looking at him sheepishly. “And then I was hurtful and awful, and I realized that I was just creating a self-fulfilling prophecy and I don’t— I don’t want to do that.” 

Her hand shook a little as she brought it back down to twist in his scarf. “Because it’s never— I’ve never felt like this. I've never been this happy with anyone else, and I don’t want to give that up. I don’t want to give you up. Even if sometimes I feel like I’ll never be enough.”

Her voice cracked on a stifled cry, and his chest physically ached. “And if you never want to see me again, I completely understand, and I’ll leave you alone, but I— I’m just so sorry. And I love you so much, and I’m trying so hard to be better.” She sucked in a ragged breath and let it out on an exhausted sigh. “And that’s, um— that’s it. If you want me to go, I—”

“I don’t want you to go,” he interrupted.

Her eyes went wide. “You don’t?”

“Of course not.” Spencer stepped forward and reached for her. “Of course not. C’mere.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, she was tumbling into his arms with a choked off sob. He pulled her inside and closed the door behind them, walking her to the couch and sitting them both down. She clung to him like she was afraid he’d disappear into thin air. 

“Maggie, I’m right here,” he assured her. “I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But if you n-need space, I understand,” she sobbed. 

“I appreciate the offer, but I don’t need space. I think a week was long enough, don’t you?” he asked, pressing a kiss into her hair. 

She pulled back out of the hug, head down. “But I really hurt you.” 

He held her hand. “Yeah. And I really hurt you, too.”

She huffed out a breath. “That’s not how this works. I don’t get to hurt you just because you hurt me.”

“I know that.” He almost laughed at how indignant she sounded. “I’m not saying that we should hurt each other. I’m saying that sometimes it happens. And when it does, we apologize, and we forgive, and we move forward. And it’s okay if you need space. But I don’t.”

“What if you change your mind?” she whispered. 

“Then I promise I’ll tell you.” Spencer tilted her chin up so he could meet her eyes. “I promise I’ll tell you what I need, as long as you tell me, too. We’ve gotta use all those communication skills we learn in therapy.”

Maggie nodded, and he pulled her into another hug. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh of relief. “If I hadn’t heard from you by Sunday, I was planning to bother you until you talked to me.”

He could feel the beginning of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth where it was pressed to his shoulder. “You never bother me,” she mumbled. She held him for a moment longer and then released him from the hug and sat back, fidgeting with her hands and letting out a breath. 

“Sometimes I need to be told that my worst fears about myself aren’t true,” she admitted. “I know that’s so annoying, but—”

“It’s not annoying,” he interrupted, putting an immediate stop to that line of thought. “Telling you how amazing you are isn’t the chore that you think it is. I’m sorry that anyone ever convinced you that it was.” 

He covered her hands with his own, rubbing his thumbs softly along her skin. He couldn’t stop thinking about her dealing with all of this by herself. He hated that she’d ever felt anything less than adored. More than anything, he hated that he hadn’t been able to help her through it. And he wanted to make sure that he never made that mistake again. 

“A wise man told me once... that love is helping someone navigate their storms,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. She looked at him then, and he continued, “You’ve been my lighthouse for a long time, Maggie. And I— I’m trying desperately to be yours… But you have to let me.”

Her eyes filled with fresh tears, but she nodded. He let out a long breath and pulled her hands into his lap. “I understand that sometimes you need space, and that’s fine. I’m happy to give you whatever you need.” 

He shook his head. “Just— please don’t try to weather the storm by yourself. You can’t do it all alone; no one can.” He smiled ruefully. “I can tell you from experience that’s pretty much a guaranteed way to capsize your boat.”

His voice cracked a little at the end, and he felt a tear slip over his lash line. “I’ll help you repair your boat, or build a new one, or you can just float on mine for a while. It’s not perfect but it’s pretty sturdy, I think.”

She brought her fingers up to brush at his damp cheeks, and he met her eyes.  “What I’m not going to do is let you float out on the ocean by yourself. I love you too much.” 

She was quiet for a long moment, sniffling a little and just watching him— almost like she couldn’t believe he was there. She brought her hand back to his and laced their fingers together, rubbing her thumb along his. “I love you the most.”

“Agree to disagree.” He gave her a small smile and leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead. “Want some tea?”

She was frowning when he pulled back, her brows drawn together. “I need to tell you about Owen.”

The conversation he’d had with Anita was suddenly on replay in Spencer’s head. 

… a real piece of shit… telling her lies about herself… isolating her… destroying her from the inside out...

He squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready. You don’t have to tell me at all if you don’t want to.” 

She shook her head. “Talking about him takes away his power. I have to stop letting him have so much sway over my emotions.” She looked at him then. “I do things I regret and hurt people I love.” 

He brought their joined hands up his lips. “Well, I’m here either way. And I’m still going to make you some tea.” 

He stood and pulled her up with him, bringing her into the kitchen and refusing to let go of her hand. He filled the kettle and turned it on, found a bag of her favorite tea and ripped it open with his teeth. He dropped the bag into her favorite mug, and then made a mug up for himself. 

“You know, it’d be a lot easier if you’d let go,” she said, the hint of a smile in her voice. 

“Mhm,” he agreed, but he made no move to release her hand. In fact, once he’d fumbled a spoonful of honey into each of the cups, he dropped the spoon into her mug and turned to pull her into another hug. He hooked his chin over her shoulder and closed his eyes as she brought her arms around his waist. “I missed you,” he whispered. 

She squeezed him tight. “I missed you, too. I’m so sorry.”

She buried her face in his neck, and he felt her breathe him in. He pressed a kiss into her shoulder and then settled his chin again. “Apology accepted, in case it wasn’t clear.”

They stood like that until the kettle began to whistle, and then Spencer kept her tucked underneath his arm as he turned to shut it off and pour the water into the mugs. They each grabbed a mug, making their way back to the couch and setting them on the coffee table to steep. Spencer kept their fingers intertwined and stayed quiet, letting her set the pace of the conversation. 

Maggie took a deep breath and let it out on a long sigh. “I guess I should start at the beginning. I, um— I had my first boyfriend in high-school: Cal Cunningham. He was older and cooler, and so I felt— I don’t know… special when he picked me.” She rolled her eyes. “In reality, he was rude, and arrogant, and kind of a misogynist. We didn’t date for very long, but it kind of… set me up on this path of dating guys who weren’t very nice.”

Spencer ran his thumb soothingly along hers, waiting for her to continue. “When I started college, I dated this guy Adam for a few months. He was nice enough but really self-centered and a little immature. When we broke up I just wanted to be on my own for a while.”

“I was single for two years after that, just kind of… finding myself and whatever.” Her eyes watched the path his thumb traced along her skin. “So when I started dating Owen at the end of junior year, it felt like my first real relationship. Like— we were both adults, and he dressed up for our dates, and he paid for things and bought me flowers and fit all the cliches.”

“And it was great at first,” she admitted. “We had a lot of the same friends, so we’d been hanging out for a while before we got together. He was a perfect gentleman, and he was smart, accomplished, and ambitious. I fell fast and I fell hard, and we were sort of— it feels so stupid to say this, but it felt like we were an it couple. 

“A few of us made plans to move to DC after graduation— my friend Jess and her boyfriend Chris, Sam and Anita,” she explained. “And Owen and I, obviously. We moved in together in an apartment downtown. And that’s when everything changed.”

She drew her brows together. “It was little things at first. Like he’d jokingly call me stupid for forgetting something, or he’d complain about one of my friends being annoying. But it snowballed pretty quickly. He’d tell me I was stupid, and he wasn’t joking. All of my friends irritated him to the point where we couldn’t hang out anymore— even our former mutual friends. He thought that teaching kindergarten was a mindless, pointless job.”

Spencer tried to keep his heart rate steady, his facial expressions neutral, but his blood pressure was on the rise. No one deserved to be spoken to like that, least of all Maggie. 

She continued, “We spent the holidays at my parents’ the second year we were dating, and he spent the entire car ride home explaining, in detail, how ridiculous and low-class he thought everything was.” 

She shook her head and rubbed her free hand over her face. “I know it’s insane to think that I stayed with him for so long, but I— he did a really good job of convincing me that I was— that I was nothing. That he was doing me a favor by loving me. That he could have anyone, but he chose me. No one else was going to, so I should be grateful.”

He balled his free hand into a fist to avoid squeezing her to death. When Anita had said Owen was a piece of shit… he hadn’t realized just how deeply she meant it.

She picked at the fabric of her sweatpants, staring intently at the tiny pills. “When someone says all of that to you on a daily basis, and you’re not hearing otherwise from anyone else— because no one knew what was going on… you start to believe it.”

Spencer relaxed his fist to bring his fingers up to her face, gently cupping her cheek. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes for a long moment. He didn’t know what to say. Instead, he pressed his lips to her forehead in a voiceless assurance that she was, in fact, everything. He felt her relax under the warm pressure of his lips, and he hoped that was enough for now. 

He sat back to let her continue. “We were together for five years, and we only broke up because he cheated on me. It was a long term affair; they were sleeping together for almost a year before I found out. And… a lot of people knew. Almost all of his friends knew. But I didn’t. I was still being this ridiculous, desperate little Suzy Homemaker trying to make him happy, even though he was still treating me like shit.”

She laughed, but there wasn’t an ounce of humor in it. “When I found out, I wasn’t even hurt. I was… embarrassed, I guess. But I was so relieved. I was so fucking relieved that I had a way out.”

He watched as her shoulders settled, almost like an actual weight had been lifted off of them. “I got a therapist and dropped all of the friends that were still hanging around with him. I moved to a new neighborhood, started hanging out with Anita and Sam, and just— started fresh. And I was doing really well. I had my moments of insecurity here and there, but for the most part, I was been able to recognize the moments when I was falling back into old thought patterns.”

She looked at him then, and her eyes were so soft and lovely that his heart ached. “You’re a big reason for that. You’re so open with how you feel about me, and… it makes things a lot easier.” She dropped her gaze with a sigh. “But I— he was at the party on New Year's. And I didn’t know he was going to be there until I was already there, and then it felt stupid to leave. I thought I could handle it—”

“And then I didn’t answer your call.”

“No, no.” She shook her head and reached her free hand out to grasp his arm. “That’s— Spencer, none of this is your fault.” She furrowed her brow, and the crease between them was practically an abyss. “He sort of— cornered me on the patio. I hadn’t seen him in like, four years? And he was complimenting me, and asking about you, and then he tried to— well, he did kiss me actually. I shoved him off, and he didn’t like that, and he did his whole Owen thing. Told me that he’d cheated because I was uninteresting and worthless. That eventually you’d get bored of me, too. Just, um— generally awful shit.”

She took a deep breath, and the rest steamrolled off her tongue and crushed his heart. “And then he just— left. And he’d absolutely demolished my self-image in less than ten minutes, and I was embarrassed and angry at myself, and then you didn’t answer, but I was kind of glad you didn’t because I didn’t actually want to talk about it. And I thought I could just move on, but then I was being weird, and you knew something was wrong. And I just wanted to pretend like it never happened, but you kept pressing me on it, and I just— I didn’t want to have to explain it all to you because I was afraid that— that maybe he was right.”

Maggie dissolved back into the couch, an indication of the emotional exhaustion that came with reliving personal trauma. Spencer moved closer and mirrored the position of her body against the cushions, bringing his face close enough to bump their noses together. They breathed the same air for one noiseless minute before she finally met his eyes.

“I need you to understand that not one single thing he said to you— on New Year’s or ever— was right, in either sense of the word. None of it was factual, and none of it was acceptable.” 

She nodded, and he continued, “You are the single best person that I know. You’re kind, brilliant, talented, and driven. You’re interesting, and wonderful, and lovely. You’re my absolute favorite person on the planet, and I will never get bored of you.” 

He let his eyes trace over all the angles and curves of her face, and then raised his eyebrows. “He’s lucky that I respect you enough not to go over your head, because what I’d like to do is run a full background check, find any and every possible transgression that could be legally investigated, and then use that information to ruin his life.” He tilted his head in thought. “That or— get really jacked and then beat the shit out of him.” 

“God, please don’t. As much as I’d love to watch that unfold,” she cupped his face in her hand, “you’re better than that. And he’s not worth either of our energies… I already wasted enough time dwelling on it and hurt you in the process.” She dropped her hand back to her lap with a sigh. “I spent so much time in that relationship that my brain didn’t know what to do with this good, healthy one.”

He took both of her hands in his, squeezing them tight and then pressing a kiss to the back of each. He wouldn’t commit assault, since she’d asked him not to. But he wasn’t going to let Owen taint any part of his life with Maggie. 

“I’m so sorry that someone you loved made you think it was hard to love you. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.” He pressed his lips together and mused, “But I think maybe love has a learning curve. Especially when you’re used to being hurt. You have to unlearn all the bullshit. People will have you thinking that you have to water yourself down, or change who you are, or make yourself more palatable. I thought that, too.” 

He brushed her hair back away from her face and waited for her to meet his eyes. “And then I met you. And you love all of it— all of me. All the rambling, all the quirks, and— even the dark parts, too.” 

She sniffled a little, but really smiled for the first time that night. “What’s not to love about you?”

He smiled back. “I’m not sure if you realize that I fully reciprocate that feeling. What’s not to love about you? I have a hard time thinking of even one thing about you that I don’t absolutely adore.”

“Even when I act like a horrid bitch?” she mumbled, only half joking.

He leaned his head against the couch cushion. “A year ago, you stood on my doorstep and gave me forgiveness— after I’d been a complete asshole to you…  I told you then that I wanted to learn how to love with you. I still do. In all the wonderful, and the weird, and the terrible. Even when we get it wrong.”

He shrugged, and then ran a soft fingertip down the bridge of her nose. “There is no one else I’d rather get it wrong with. Because when we get it right… it’s the closest I’ve ever felt to magic.”

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears, and she brought both hands up to his face, holding him with an adoration that made his own eyes burn. “You can believe that you love me the most,” she whispered, “but just know that you’re wrong.” 

He leaned forward to close the distance between them, pressing a kiss to her lips with a reverence that felt technicolor and devout and more magical than any trick he’d ever mastered. 

“Agree to disagree.”

———

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[welllpthisishappening]

Out of the Frying Pan (30/?)

“He wouldn’t think that,” Ruby said softly, hand reaching out to rest on Emma’s knee, and Mary Margaret nodded enthusiastically.

“You don’t know that.” “I absolutely do.” “Emma,” Mary Margaret cut in, the look on her face nearly making Emma start to cry again. “It’s not too soon. And it’s not too scary. The way he looks at you...like you are everything to him. I think he loves you just as much as you love him.” And she couldn’t argue, couldn’t come up with a single word or a single letter, just blinked quickly to try and push the tears back into her eyes and focused on the rush that shot through her whole body at the idea.

AN: Guuuuuuuys. Things. Have. Happened. Big things. Important things. Agh! I’m so psyched. I won’t ever be able to come up with enough adjectives to explain how much your response to this story means to me. It blows my mind. @laurnorder continues to fix all my words because she’s fantastic & @distant-rose makes beautiful aesthetics and listens to me complain about my job every day. They’re the best. 

Hanging out on Ao3 and tag’ed up on Tumblr. 

“This is the worst.” “It’s a party for you.” “That makes it the absolute worst.” Emma glanced at Mary Margaret, hands resting on her stomach and an impatient look on her face. The apartment was filled with people, all of them seemingly determined to put their hands on her stomach and ask about color schemes for the nursery – drawing a scoff from Ruth every single time, no matter how far removed she was from the conversation – and at some point someone had tried to place a twisted hat of ribbons on Mary Margaret’s head and Emma was almost convinced her sister-in-law was going to murder them right there in her living room.

She didn’t.

But that may have been because both Emma and Ruby had intervened, ushering Ella and her three-year-old daughter to the other side of the room where the punch was.

“We should have made this punch alcoholic,” Mary Margaret muttered, staring at the small cup in her hand.

Emma gaped at her, twisting her body in the chair and trying to find Ruby across the throng of well-wishers who had stacked a small pile of presents at Mary Margaret's feet. “Mary Margaret,” she said sharply, not willing to admit that she absolutely agreed with her.

This really was the worst.

Mary Margaret hadn’t even really wanted a baby shower – telling both Emma and Ruby at least half a dozen times that she and David were more than capable of buying Leo his own belongings without the help of anyone, least of all the other teachers at school or wives of police officers she didn’t really even know.

And then Ruth had showed up two days before with the idea for a baby shower and all-blue-everything and Emma and Ruby had been forced to go into party-planning mode, no matter what Mary Margaret grumbled.

She was exhausted.

And Ruby looked unfairly good for how exhausted she had to be as well. She had to be exhausted. They’d barely slept in the last two days – text messages from Ruth and Mary Margaret and David actually threatening to make their respective phones freeze at one point. Emma felt like she could actually feel the bags under eyes and her hands were still cramping from holding a spatula for the better part of the morning, pulling mini-quiches off of cookie sheets in The Jolly kitchen.

She didn’t have enough room in her own apartment to meet quota.

That might have been why she was so tired too – Killian Jones was nothing if not incredibly good at providing a distraction while mini-quiches cooked in all five of his restaurant’s ovens and they’d managed to tick off that box fairly effectively.

Mary Margaret grumbled again, making a face Emma hadn’t seen since she was sixteen and David had said something stupid about wanting to move to New York and be a police officer and she’d had to play mediator in the middle of Main Street.

“Just think of this like charity,” Emma said, glancing at the mountain of baby-goods wrapped in an assortment of sickeningly adorable paper. “You sit here and let people crowd your personal space for a couple of hours, you make Ruth happy and you get gifts out of it. It’s not a bad deal when you think about it.” “You complaining again?” Ruby asked, appearing out of seemingly nowhere to rest her elbow on the back of Mary Margaret’s chair. She grinned knowingly at her, a teasing glint in her eye that Emma immediately recognized as amusement – and a plan.

And that worried her a bit.

“I’m not complaining,” Mary Margaret said, sitting up a bit straighter and glaring at Ruby. “I’m just curious when I lost all ability to make decisions on my own. We don’t need these presents or the punch or, God, what is this?”

She yanked a small knot of ribbons out of the back of her hair where it had been, unknowingly, stuck for the last twenty minutes. Emma hadn’t had the heart to tell her. She was an awful friend. And she was so tired she couldn’t see straight. Ruby pointed at Mary Margaret’s stomach, grin creeping across her face. “That’s why.” “That’s stupid.” “You’re just the mom,” Ruby laughed. “Ruth’s the grandmother. Plus you’re getting, like, a ridiculous amount of stuff for free.” “These are all things I’ve already pointed out,” Emma said softly, earning her own glare from Mary Margaret. She rolled her eyes at the expression – if they were going to act like teenagers, she could meet Mary Margaret look for look. And early-morning makeouts with her boyfriend, but that was beside the point.

“You’re right,” Mary Margaret sighed. Ruby and Emma’s eyebrows jumped in tandem, quick glances exchanged and Mary Margaret’s whole body sagged forward a bit, like she’d been holding her breath for the better part of the afternoon. “I know I’m being stupid. It’s not just about the party. Although, I totally didn’t want the party and it is super weird how we as a society have decided it’s ok to feel a woman’s stomach because there’s another human in there and…” “Focus, M’s.”

Mary Margaret took a deep breath and nodded once, pushing her hips up slightly to grab something out of her back pocket. Emma opened her mouth, something about straining herself on the tip of her tongue and Mary Margaret glared at her. “I swear to God, Emma Swan, if you say anything about being careful, I will rage right in the middle of this apartment.”

Emma’s eyes widened to potentially dangerous proportions and Ruby’s elbow slid off the chair quickly, her entire body folding into itself with laughter. “Talk about hormones,” she muttered, hooking her foot around an empty folding chair and all but collapsing into it.

“Jeez, Mary Margaret,” Emma said softly.

“Sorry, sorry,” she mumbled, unfolding what appeared to be an envelope and handing it to Emma.

“What’s this?” “Look at it, but, you know don’t open it?” Emma glanced questioningly at her, but Mary Margaret just nodded, teeth pressed into her lower lip tightly. It was an envelope and it looked like it had taken up residence in Mary Margaret’s back pocket, folded, at least, two dozen different ways like she kept taking it out to stare at it.

And it was from the city of New York.

More to the point, it was from One Police Plaza in the city of New York.

“Oh my God,” Emma mumbled, eyes flashing up towards Mary Margaret who looked nothing short of absolutely ashamed. Her whole lip was twisted in between her teeth and she was beating out a nervous rhythm on her side.

“I know, I know. I’m the worst wife in the whole world.” “What is it?” Ruby asked, leaning forward and pulling the envelope out of Emma’s hand. Her whole face went slack when she looked at the return address. “Holy shit, Mary Margaret.” “Ruby!” “What? There’s not actually a baby here yet. And this is a huge deal.” “It is,” Mary Margaret admitted. “It’s the biggest deal. That’s why I’ve been so frustratingly annoying about this party thing. I couldn’t deal with the idea of people doing stuff for me when I was hiding this.” “You’re hiding it?” Emma repeated and Ruby was laughing again.

Mary Margaret nodded slowly, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Hormones. “For the last four days.” “Oh my God.” “Stop saying that.” “I don’t know what else to say.” “Are you going to tell David?” “No,” Emma said quickly, not even considering another option. “That’s all you, M’s.” Mary Margaret groaned, drawing a few curious glances from people who desperately wanted to play baby shower games, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly.

“We definitely should have made this punch alcoholic,” Ruby said, downing the rest of her drink like she was doing shots.

“How did this happen?” Emma asked, ignoring the requests for alcohol she was practically drowning in. “I mean you knew he took the test. You knew the test would have results. This could be a good thing.” “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know,” Mary Margaret said and her fingers hadn’t stopped moving in the last three minutes. “And I want David to be happy and no one deserves to be an officer more than him. I know that.” “But?” “But that is absolutely terrifying.” “It’s not going to change the results of that exam.” “I just thought maybe if he didn’t know for a couple of extra days, we could just have this.” She glanced around the apartment at the group of people she’d put up such a fight over a few hours before, shrugging at Emma and Ruby. “We could just be soon-to-be parents and he wouldn’t feel like he was some sort of leader or under all this stress. That’s why he didn’t tell me he was going to take the exam in the first place.” “I know that,” Emma said before entirely considering what she was saying.

“What?” She ran her hand over face, slouching forward until her elbows rested on her knees. “He showed up at my apartment months ago, certain I was dead because I didn’t answer my phone. It was very typical David. And he told me.” “He always thinks he’s got to try and protect me.” “He’s worried about you.” “That’s dumb.” “So is hiding his test results.” Ruby chuckled, smiling at Emma. “I think she just won, Mary Margaret. Who knew making out with Killian Jones would make you so smart?” “Yeah, let’s focus on that,” Mary Margaret said, envelope and test results and baby shower games seemingly forgotten in her determination to hear about Emma’s relationship. “You two are pretty handsy, you know.” “Handsy?” Emma scoffed. “What is this? Middle school?” “High school. At least.” Emma rolled her eyes, ignoring the way her stomach flipped at the thought of handsy and a handful of other adjectives and memories of the last few weeks flashing through her mind.

“You are actually blushing,” Ruby said, sounding just a bit stunned. “I had no idea you were capable.” “Shut up,” Emma hissed. Mary Margaret was sniffling again and this conversation had gotten totally off track.

“Come on, spill. What happened last week?” “What happened last week? Things happened last week?” Mary Margaret’s eyes flashed between Emma and Ruby, acting like she was waiting on some sort of New York Times breaking news headline.  

“How did we land on this topic?” Emma sighed, twisting the end of her hair around her finger and two incredibly accusatory gasps met the movement. Goddamnit. “This is your baby shower, M’s.” “Yeah, but I didn’t really want it.” “Because you were too busy feeling guilty about lying to your husband.” “What happened last week?”

“Emma broke into Killian’s apartment and cooked him dinner,” Ruby answered and Mary Margaret’s entire mouth was hanging open. “Told him she wanted to do something nice because he spent the whole day in court character witnessing for Regina.” “Wait, wait, back up,” Mary Margaret said, not even looking at Emma anymore. “She broke into his apartment?” Ruby nodded. “And what’s a character witness?” “He’s trying to help prove Regina should be able to adopt Roland when she marries Robin.” Mary Margaret actually said awww and Emma needed to seize back control of this conversation. “Hi,” she said, bitterness creeping into the corners of her voice. Two pairs of slightly amused eyes answered her. “I’m still here. Any chance you guys want to include me in this conversation about me?” Ruby shrugged, but Mary Margaret at least had the common decency to look a little bit embarrassed. “And anyway,” Emma continued, digging herself a bit deeper into this conversation-hole. “I didn’t break into his apartment. Ariel let me in.” “His hostess?” Emma mumbled some kind of agreement in the back of her throat and Mary Margaret stared at her with a bit of wonder on her face. “What?”

“I’ve just never seen you so happy.” “Oh, don’t get all sappy on me, M’s.” “I’m not, really. Ask Ruby. She’ll say the same the thing.” “It’s true, Em,” Ruby said, staring at her seriously a force field of brown eyes and determination. “You’re...I don’t even know. If I could come up with a better word than happy, I would. But that’s the jist of it. You’re so happy and no one deserves to be happy more than you.” “You’re both saps,” Emma mumbled, staring at her shoes so she didn’t do something ridiculous like start to cry in the middle of Mary Margaret’s living room.

They both shook their heads at her and Emma tried to keep her breathing level, stomach clenching a bit because she was just as happy as they were telling her she was. Probably more. And she believed in Killian – trusted him implicitly and wanted him even more – but she was still Emma and Emma never quite knew what to do when things were going well.

This was going well.

And she was terrified of it falling apart.

She was terrified of losing him.

“It’s still early,” she muttered, half to herself, a quiet mantra she’d taken up since he’d lost on purpose for her , determined to keep her expectations as low as possible.

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” Ruby said sharply and Ruth scoffed from a few feet away, like there was a baby in the living room who would also be scandalized by swear words and inappropriate behavior.

“It is,” Emma argued. “It’s only been a couple of months. I’ve only known him for a couple of months! I shouldn’t be…”

She cut herself off, eyes falling back to the floor – mostly so she didn’t have to look at the smug smiles on both Mary Margaret and Ruby’s face.

“You’ve used that excuse before,” Ruby said.

“That doesn’t make it any less true.” “Emma,” Mary Margaret said quietly and she couldn’t have looked away if she tried. “Have you told him about Neal?” Ruby let out a low whistle and Emma’s entire body shivered like someone had just opened every window in the apartment. She shook her head forcefully, hair whipping across her face almost painfully. “No,” she said, the certainty in her voice drowning out any potential for follow-up questions. “And I’m not going to.” Mary Margaret opened her mouth – that follow-up practically hanging on the tip of her tongue – but Emma narrowed her eyes and her sister-in-law’s jaw snapped shut audibly. “I don’t want him to know.”

And those two pairs of very judgemental eyes softened just a bit, picking up on what Emma hadn’t actually said. She didn’t want him to, somehow, think less of her. She didn’t want him to know that she’d found out she was pregnant in jail or considered giving Henry up for adoption or had a record that Ruby had done just about everything in her power to keep under lock and key when the show got successful.

Because if he knew he might look at her differently.

And that thought alone made every single part of her body twist uncomfortably.

What a mess.

“He wouldn’t think that,” Ruby said softly, hand reaching out to rest on Emma’s knee, and Mary Margaret nodded enthusiastically.

“You don’t know that.” “I absolutely do.” “Emma,” Mary Margaret cut in, the look on her face nearly making Emma start to cry again. “It’s not too soon. And it’s not too scary. The way he looks at you...like you are everything to him. I think he loves you just as much as you love him.” And she couldn’t argue, couldn’t come up with a single word or a single letter, just blinked quickly to try and push the tears back into her eyes and focused on the rush that shot through her whole body at the idea.

“There’s no such thing as too soon,” Mary Margaret continued, sunshine and optimism packed into a human body ready and willing to support Emma no matter what. “It just is. You don’t have to question it. You just have to act. And I think you should tell him.”

“Dor and I knew in less than a week,” Ruby added. “Honestly. I saw her and the metaphorical chorus in my mind started to play and I told her I loved her seven days later. No joke.” Emma’s laugh was shaky at best, but she couldn’t help but smile at the two friends in front of her. And wonder when she’d gotten so lucky.

Everything was too good.

“You have a metaphorical chorus in your mind?” she asked, glancing at Ruby who simply nodded like it was completely normal.

A pair of footsteps came up towards them and Emma looked up to find Ruth staring at them expectantly. “Mary Margaret,” she said. “You want to start opening presents? It might keep things from getting a little dull in here.” Emma pulled her lips behind her teeth – determined not to actually laugh for fear of what both Ruth and Mary Margaret would do to her – and Mary Margaret just nodded quickly, fingers still tapping out that rhythm on her stomach.

“Sure,” she said and Emma wondered if anyone heard the tension in her voice besides her. “That sounds really good.”

Ruth beamed at her, turning back to the small crowd to get them to transition a few feet to their collective left and Mary Margaret squeezed her eyes shut tightly. “Free stuff, M’s, just remember, free stuff,” Emma said, yanking her chair around so she was sitting next to her.

“They’ll be gone in an hour,” Ruby said.

And that wasn’t part of the plan.

“What?” Mary Margaret asked, leaning to the side to grab something wrapped in rubber duck-themed paper.

Ruby’s face shifted – falling back into cutthroat producer with a practiced ease that probably should have intimidated Emma a bit, but just served to impress her. “That was why I came over here in the first place,” she said, crossing her legs and hooking her heel behind her ankle. “Strangely enough, it was freezing cold at the Piers and apparently Henry wasn’t quite as interested in soccer anymore. So they’re at The Jolly now, something about root beer floats and baked goods and they’ll be back here in an hour. I think David’s kind of anxious to get back to you, Mary Margaret. It’s disgusting.”

“Disgusting,” Mary Margaret repeated, sounding like it was anything but.

“How’d you know all that?” Emma asked, wondering why she hadn’t gotten some sort of text-message update.

“You got it too,” Ruby said, nodding towards the phone sitting on an end table a few feet away.

Emma reached back, grabbing the thing and swiping her thumb across the screen. Twelve text messages. Eight from Henry – including a photo of David trying to go up against an automated goalie machine that she’d probably save for the rest of her life – three from David and one from Killian.

We might have to crash your shower, love. Soccer in the snow isn’t quite as fun as I was promised it would be.

That’s alright. I think you’re probably doing M’s a favor. And I might want to see you.

It took a full ten seconds for her phone to buzz again, earning a sarcastic glance from Ruby as several dozen acquaintances moved towards Mary Margaret, hands reaching out to touch her stomach and push presents towards her.

That so? Can’t get enough of me, huh? Something like that.

Good.  

The door swung open right on schedule an hour later, Henry sprinting into the living room with what looked like several inches of snow in his hair and at least half a dozen stories about David’s inability to play soccer on his lips.

Ruth was only slightly put out about the early-end to the party, Mary Margaret’s admission to being absolutely exhausted enough to make her mother-in-law usher everyone out the door ten minutes before. She looked a bit amused when David made a beeline to his wife – no complaints about his hand falling on her stomach without a word – and glanced at Emma knowingly, mouth ticking up a bit.

Emma shrugged.

“Relax, kid,” Emma laughed when Henry collapsed on the couch next to her, elbows just missing Ruby as he landed loudly. “We don’t need a full report right now.” “But mom,” he whined. “It was so funny. Uncle David actually fell over. He fell over!” “Yeah, I got the pictures you sent me.” “There are pictures?” David asked sharply, head snapping up from where it had been resting against Mary Margaret’s shoulders. “Jeez, delete those, Em.” “Nuh uh, I’m keeping those until the end of time. Now I’ve got some serious blackmail when you’re being a jerk.” “I wasn’t a jerk all day. Ask Killian.” He was leaning against the entryway to the living room, feet crossed at the ankles and his gaze only focused on Emma. He had snow in his hair too and the blue in his eyes looked bluer when they met hers, smile tugging on his mouth in a way that made her want to kiss him – hard. And for a prolonged period of time.

“I can confirm that your brother was not a jerk, Swan,” Killian said, stepping farther into the room and nodding towards a still-lying-across-the-entire-couch Henry. He sank onto the arm next to her, fingers brushing across the back of her neck and leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. “We had fun. Despite the potential concussion.” “You’re not really concussed are you, Uncle David?” Henry asked, sitting up quickly and Emma’s heart thumped in her chest at the concern in his voice.

“Nah, I’m fine,” David promised and Henry let out a relieved deep breath. “Although,” he continued slowly, glancing at Killian quickly. “Maybe not quite good. ” Killian nodded again, stepping towards Emma, and it seemed like the entire room had frozen. “What’s going on?” Mary Margaret asked.

David pulled the air into his lungs slowly, hands pushed into his pockets as he started to pace in front of them, eyes focused on the carpet underneath his feet and the small trail of New York City slush he was leaving behind him. “I got some news a couple of days ago,” he said softly and it took half a second for Emma to realize what was going on.

“Oh my God,” she groaned. “You’re both idiots.” David glanced questioningly at her and she ran her hand through the air, shaking her head. “Go ahead, say what you’ve got to say.” He took another deep breath and Killian’s fingers hadn’t stopped moving across the back of her spine, tracing some sort of pattern against her skin. Mary Margaret crossed her arms slowly, waiting patiently for the news Emma was positive she’d already figured out anyway.

“I passed,” David said, rushing over the words and ignoring his mother’s loud gasp. “Captain told me a couple of days ago. I passed and there’s a ceremony next month and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I was nervous how you’d react and I just want you to be happy. Nothing’s going to happen to me. Not when I’ve got so much to come home to.” His hand fell back to Mary Margaret’s stomach, palm resting flat against her shirt and her fingers tugged on his forcefully until they were twisted together.

And if Emma leaned back against her own boyfriend’s hand, his fingers coming down to rest on her shoulder and his lips brushing against her head, she couldn’t really blame herself.  

Mary Margaret closed her eyes lightly, smiling just a bit and David looked concerned she was having some sort of reaction. “Mary Margaret?” he asked, kneeling so he was eye level with her again. And his hand didn’t move out of hers.

“Emma was right,” she muttered.

“What?” “We’re both idiots.” She nodded towards the envelope Ruby had left sitting on the coffee table, flattened out for what was, likely, the first time since Mary Margaret had taken it out of the mail. “That came four days ago.” “Is this…” David asked slowly, leaning precariously back on his heels to grab the thin piece of paper, eyes lightening a bit when he noticed all the crease marks on it.

“I couldn’t bring myself to actually open it. I didn’t have to. I knew you’d pass. And I know I should have told you it came. But I was nervous and scared you’d do something absurdly heroic because of new bars on your uniform.” “I won’t.” “You will,” Mary Margaret said, but she was smiling as she spoke. “And that’s why I love you. You’d do whatever you could to protect anyone. You’re good, David Nolan. The good-est and that’s not even a word and I know it’s not a word and, well, I am so proud of you. I should have told you that from the start.”

David’s eyes widened a bit and Mary Margaret tried to keep her smile on her face and then they were kissing each other, fingers still wrapped together and Ruby groaned loudly. “Disgusting,” she mumbled, glancing at Henry who appeared to agree with the sentiment.

Ruth yelped loudly again, rushing towards her son and his wife and wrapping them tightly in another hug that was so tight Emma was positive David would chastise her for possibly hurting the baby.

“Swan,” Killian muttered in her ear, making her jump a bit. “Can I talk to you for a second?” Emma twisted her head to look up at him, the nerves practically radiating off him and her stomach felt like it dropped a few feet as she nodded slowly. “Sure.”

She stood up, pulling Henry’s legs off hers as she moved, and started walking towards the kitchen when she nearly fell over – Killian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and making her almost lose her balance when she came up short of linoleum.

“I was thinking maybe outside,” he said softly, redirecting her towards the door.

“Ok.”

They took a few steps into the hallway, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing behind him and Killian rolled his shoulders, thumb tapping on the side of his prosthetic. “You alright?” Emma asked. He nodded tersely and that didn’t do anything to make her feel like she wasn’t being lied to. “You look a little terrified.” He laughed at that, shoulders loosening a bit as he reached out towards her again. She moved without question, mind holding onto too soondespite romantic proclamations from Mary Margaret an hour before. “Not terrified,” Killian said softly. “A bit nervous, but not terrified.” “What’s going on?” “You know we haven’t actually been on another date since the network party.” And that’s not what she expected at all.

Emma’s eyes narrowed, head pulling back to stare at him and he was actually smiling now. “What are you getting at?” “I’m suggesting that maybe we should.” “And you had to bring me into the hallway to ask me that?” “You know Gina and Robin are getting married next month.” “Yeah,” Emma nodded. “I’ve seen the scrapbook.” He took a deep breath, eyes meeting hers without a trace of the previous nerves or misgivings and Emma couldn’t even remember what too soon was when he was looking at her like that. “Would you like to go with me?” Killian asked.

She nodded before she’d even really processed the question, head moving quickly as her heartbeat tried to keep up with the rhythm it was pounding out. His mouth met hers without another word, hands pushing underneath the bottom of her shirt until the fabric had ridden up her stomach and Emma barely remembered that her entire family was a few feet away behind one closed door.

She almost didn’t care.

She was ridiculously happy.

“I’ll have to buy a dress,” Emma mumbled and she could feel his smile when he laughed against her lips.

“You don’t have to,” Killian argued. “Wear whatever you want. Wear jeans for all I care. It’ll still look incredible.” “What a line.” “The truth.”

Emma shook her head, fingers still pushed into his hair as she pulled him back towards her – mostly so she could keep trying to ignore the way her stomach was flipping at the thought that it was the truth.

“Swan, your whole family is in that apartment,” Killian mumbled, a picture of responsibility despite the several different directions his hair was currently pushed in.

“Did you forget?” “No,” Killian said. “But in the grand scheme of trying to make a good impression, I’m not sure this is exactly helping my cause.”

Emma groaned, taking a much-needed step back and he pushed his hands in his pockets – like that was the only way to keep from touching her. “I’ve been meaning to ask you for awhile, you know,” he said.

“What?” “Or I’ve wanted to.” “Why didn’t you?” “We said we wouldn’t push, Swan. And bringing you to my producer’s wedding as a plus-one when you’ll likely have to sit by yourself during the ceremony seemed a bit like pushing.” She took a step back towards him, hand tugging on the unzipped zipper of his jacket until he didn’t have anywhere to look but her. “If I get to push you for information, you can push me for dates,” Emma said, trying to keep her voice steady. “Plus, I might have hoped you’d ask.” “Yeah?” “Well I can’t do all the asking out,” Emma laughed. “And I’m assuming Regina will have you decked out in some sort of incredibly fancy outfit. So I will admit that’s the main draw. Are you going to have to wear a waistcoat too?” Killian laughed, lips brushing across her forehead and his hand fell back to her waist and they were absolutely teenagers. “Ah, it’s my turn then, is it?” “Something like that.”

He nodded seriously and Emma wasn’t sure if she’d actually fallen into the floor or melted into it, but she was surprised she was still standing up. His didn’t blink, staring her like she was more than just someone he’d met a few months ago and more than someone who couldn’t seem to stop kissing.

He looked at her like she was everything.

And for the first time, she felt like it.

“I love you,” Emma said, words falling out of her without a second thought. His whole body tensed against her, eyes widening for a fraction of a moment and his teeth pushed into his lip tightly, like he couldn’t quite believe she was standing in front of him.

“Swan,” he said slowly, fingers tracing across her jaw. And fuck his eyes were blue.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Emma said quickly, trying to not to fall into herself or the floor, certain both were places she wasn’t particularly interested in being. Too soon.  Fuck. It was too soon. “I just wanted you to know. You should know. And you’ve been so good and, well, it’s the truth. You should know the truth, right?” He stared at her for a few more moments, mouth ticking up slowly before he crashed against her, lips moving demandingly over hers and his hand pushing its way up her stomach like he’d forgotten about the family members a few feet away.

Emma groaned when Killian’s hips canted upwards, pushing into her and leaving very little doubt to just how much he wanted her. “My turn, right?” he asked, mumbling the words against her lips and the breathless sound of his voice wasn’t fair at all. He pulled her hands towards him, resting her knuckles against the buttons of his shirt and when Emma finally got the courage to pull her eyes up to his she nearly fell over.

Like she was the goddamn sun.

“I love you too,” he said and his voice seemed to fill that tiny, metaphorical pit in her stomach that she’d never been able to actually put a name to.

And then he was kissing her again – softer this time, slower, like he was trying to memorize the way she moved and the way she felt against him and she might have been doing the exact same thing, fingers ghosting over his left wrist until they wrapped themselves around his prosthetic and pulled him flush against her.

He pressed her further against the wall, somehow finding an inch of space Emma’s body wasn’t already occupying, and she wasn’t entirely certain he knew what he was doing anymore, the determination to seemingly try and touch every single part of her taking control.

They really should pick better locations for these kind of conversations – hallways and hair and makeup and deserted sets seemed like the last places these things should happen at. So, of course it was like this.

Nothing had gone the way she’d expected when it came to Killian Jones.

Killian’s arm had found its way around her waist, tugging her up until her heels actually popped out of her shoes, using the wall as leverage until her calves were wrapped around his thighs and he groaned when she pushed her hips into his.

Emma laughed softly, head falling forward until her forehead rested on his and she could feel him smile against her. “Are you laughing at me, Swan?” he asked, laughter creeping into his voice.

“No,” she said honestly and Killian’s eyes snapped up to hers – blue and serious and God he loved her back. “I’m just happy.”

His smile could have stopped traffic in the middle of Times Square. Or Columbus Circle. Or probably lit the flame in the Statue of Liberty.

She was, apparently, chock full of ridiculous sentiment.

“Good,” Killian said softly and Emma was still an inch off the ground, his arm wrapped tightly around her and supporting her weight entirely. There was some sort of deeper meaning there – she wouldn’t have minded trying to find it by kissing him some more. “And you really don’t have to buy a new dress.” “You’re still thinking about the dress?” “I’m thinking about you in a dress, love. They’re decidedly different things.” Emma laughed again, the muscles in her face threatening to tighten from overuse. “And possibly out of a dress,” she mumbled, eyes flashing towards Killian’s in just enough time to see his mouth drop open.

“It’s rude to tease a man like that,” he said, voice low as he muttered the words into her ear, nosing her hair out of the way. She shivered when his lips hit the back of her neck, certain the goosebumps would have given her away even if she hadn’t moved. He laughed at that – drawing out even more goosebumps when his breath hit just behind her ears, making Emma bite her lip tightly and press her toes into her shoes so she wouldn’t start kissing him again.

“It’s not teasing if it’s a promise.” Killian’s eyebrows nearly flew up his forehead, smile inching across his face as he pulled back slightly, staring at her with some akin to wonder in his expression. “That so?”

“You going to kick me out after date number, what would we call this? Four?”

“I have no intention of kicking you out, ever, so, no, not after date four either.” She was absurdly happy.

And the sky hadn’t fallen. And the building hadn’t caved in. And he hadn’t walked away.

He was still there, fingers tracing some sort of pattern across her hip and a smile plastered on his face and Killian loved her back.

“Ever?” Emma said softly and his eyes narrowed at the repeated word, shoulders shifting slightly with the weight of four letters.

“Does that count as pushing?” Killian asked.

Emma shook her head slowly – not entirely certain what she was disagreeing to. “I don’t think so.” “Overwhelming?” “That might be closer to the word I was looking for.” He sighed softly, one side of his mouth pulled up and nodded at her. “A good word.” “Some might even say that this is vaguely important.” “The most.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” And those four letters seemed to settle the batch of nerves Emma couldn’t quite seem to shake. “I love you, Emma. More than I thought I could and certainly faster than I thought was possible. And it’s overwhelming and important and I wouldn’t want it to be any different, because you’re overwhelming and important. The most of both.” She was crying.

She could feel the tears falling down her cheek, salt hitting the side of her lip when Killian didn’t move his thumb fast enough to brush them away. “Swan?” he asked, voice low with concern and that might have made her cry more.

“I’m fine,” Emma said quickly, blinking and shaking her head. “I just...I’m happy.”

Killian nodded, thumb brushing across her cheek and Emma’s whole body clenched at the way his eyes seemed to actually lighten when she spoke.

Happy.

She was so goddamn happy she felt like her entire body was buzzing with emotion.

It might have been.

“Hey,” Emma said suddenly, like she was remembering a very important point she’d entirely forgotten. She had – far too preoccupied with declarations of I love you and kissing and allusions to dresses on and off her body. “What was with those looks before?” “What looks? The ones directed at you? I think we’ve made that fairly clear, don’t you, love?” Emma shook her head, willing herself not to get distracted again by that absolutely ridiculous combination of smirk and blue eyes. “No, no, that’s not what I meant.” He’d added one absurdly arched eyebrow to the mix and that wasn’t playing fair at all. “Before David told M’s about the results and things got all mushy in there, he looked at you. And you nodded. And it was encouraging. That’s the look I’m curious about.” “Mushy?” he repeated and now both eyebrows were up and his eyes were blue and she was absolutely distracted. Killian’s hand reached out, fingers brushing along the curve of her jaw, sending a wave of goosebumps down her spine.

“You know what I mean,” Emma muttered, doing her best to resist the urge to shrug his fingers away and tell him to replace them with his mouth. On her lips. Again. “Did David tell you about the results?”

He sighed softly – and moved his hand away, running it across his face and that wasn’t really what she had in mind at all – taking a step back and his expression changed just a bit. It had been serious the whole time – no one tells someone they love them without being, at least, a little serious – but his eyes seemed to darken just a bit when he looked at her again, nodding slowly, lips pressed together tightly.

“We talked,” Killian said, like that was, somehow, normal.

“When?” “Today.” “And?” “And what?” “And David wouldn’t just tell you about the results as some kind of conversation starter,” Emma argued. “So that means there had to have been more talking. When? And for how long?” “Those are a lot of questions, Swan.” “Ones you’re doing a very good job of avoiding.” He sighed again, but there was a bit of laughter mixed in to and he smiled at her when he looked at her. “You know about Christmas, right?” Emma nodded. “Well, we’ve been talking since Christmas. He really wasn’t a jerk today. It was, actually, almost good. It was fun.” “Fun? With my brother?” “I’m not lying to you, Swan.” “And Henry was there too.” “You’ll remember I told you that I enjoy spending time with Henry.” Her stomach flipped and then twisted into, what felt like, eight very complicated knots. “We had a good time, love, snow notwithstanding.”

“So, David told you about the results? Anything else I should know about that you two are sharing on top-secret soccer outings with my kid?” Killian laughed – and something flashed across his face and Emma was almost certain she missed it, but it was gone before she could try and pick out what exactly it had been. “It wasn’t quite top-secret. Sending text message updates about it seems to cut down on the secret keeping of it all.”

Emma nodded, teeth digging into the side of her tongue. “They’ll probably send a search party out for us soon,” she said, nodding back towards the door and wondering how no one had actually appeared in the hallway demanding their return to the apartment.

“I should probably get back. I think Eric’s starting to count the number of Saturdays I’ve only kind of half-cooked and he’s using them as some sort of blackmail fodder for when him and Ari finally have kids. Like he can use it to force babysitting on me.” “That’s a very involved plan.” “I wouldn’t put it past him.” “Go,” Emma said, nudging her shoulder into his and fighting away the vaguely ridiculous disappointment she felt settle in the pit of her stomach at the word. “God forbid you have to babysit for a baby that hasn’t even been conceived yet.” “I might just go say bye to Henry?” He phrased it like a question and he rocked back on his feet a little bit when he looked back up at her, finger back underneath the hem of her shirt. And it was so absurdly endearing she could hardly think straight.

“Of course. He’d probably send at least eight angry texts if you didn’t.” “At least.” Killian followed her back into the apartment – eyes following them when they walked back into the living room and Emma shook her head deftly in Ruby’s direction, the questions practically falling out of her producer’s open mouth.

He said goodbye to Henry, promises of more soccer in the snow and root beer floats and kissed her softly on the cheek – and Ruth didn’t even try to quiet her very loud, very dramatic gasp at that – squeezing Emma’s hand in his. “You could come by later, if you want,” Killian said, keeping his voice low so as not to attract even more comments from the metaphorical peanut gallery that was her family.

“We’re taking Ruth uptown. Dinner and a whole bunch of touristy things that kind of make my skin crawl, but she likes them and Henry likes them. He’s bringing Violet, you know.” “So I heard.” “He told you that?” “Several times,” Killian laughed. “I think between me and David he’s asked just about every question about twelve-year-old dating he possibly could come up with.” Emma wasn’t quite sure what to do with that information – a mix of something oppressively parental sparking at the idea of her almost-teenage son even thinking about dating and something entirely different and emotional about the same almost-teenage son asking her brother and her boyfriend for dating advice.

“Is that ok?” he asked, picking up on everything she was thinking without a single word.

“Yeah,” Emma answered, a bit breathless and that was just absurd.  “That might be the nicest thing I’ve heard today.” “That’s the nicest thing you’ve heard today?” “Well, the whole I love you thing was pretty good too. A highlight for sure.” Killian laughed loudly, kissing her again. “I’m glad it at least made the highlights.” Her head was spinning – the last half an hour playing on repeat in her mind like she couldn’t quite believe it had actually happened, a far cry from the slightly frustrated TV chefs who had sat in that conference room a few months ago, determined not to spend their next year playing all-star for the network.

God, she was going to have to thank Ruby. And probably Regina.

And she wanted him to come home with her – or, at least, to her.

“You could come over later,” Emma said, enjoying the surprised look on his face at the suggestion. “Like once you’re closed.” “It’ll be late.” “I know, but you’re not very far away. And it’s nice having you there at night.” Killian cocked one eyebrow, eyes crinkling a bit when he smiled. “You want me to stay?”

“I remember something about not kicking out and ever being tossed around earlier,” Emma said. “Unless that was all talk.” “It wasn’t.” “Then come when you’re closed. I’ll still be up.” “I’d like that.” “Go,” she said, all but pushing him towards the door. “Or Eric will kill you. I’ll see you later.” He nodded once again, still smiling as he wrapped his hand around the door knob, swinging it open behind him. “Bye, love.” “Bye.” The door closed loudly and Emma spun around, leaning against the wood and trying to get her bearings. She saw Mary Margaret staring at her from the other side of the living room, a look on her face like she knew exactly what had happened and couldn’t have been more pleased with her ability to get in Emma’s head and make her do things.

Emma twisted her neck forward, reaching around behind her and grabbing the chain she hadn’t taken off in nearly thirteen years, pulling it over her head and staring at the small emblem in her hand – everything she’d refused to allow herself to believe in, every doubt she’d ever had and certainty that nothing would ever be worth it.

Nothing would be enough.

She was an idiot.

And, apparently, prone to melodrama.

And Killian Jones loved her back.

She pushed the chain into her back pocket and everything felt lighter without it hanging around her neck as she walked back into the living room.

[godsofmonster]

Summer Boy ≽ II.

jungkook x reader- Summer au

Genre- Smutty plot

Word count- 6,500

≽ Links to previous chapters can be found on my masterlist in my bio because Tumblr sucks now! You can also click on the ‘Summer Boy’ tag!

Hey, there summer boy. I’m a busy girl who doesn’t have too much time for fun. Maybe just for this time, I’ll be yours and you’ll be mine. Don’ t be sad when the sun comes up and you wake up to find me not around, I had to go. But you promised to pay me back for last night and we still have all summer after all.

   “I’m going! I’m going!”

I dabbed the liquid product against the side of my neck, blending it with my finger. I pushed my hair away from my shoulders, making sure I didn’t forget any spots. The weather was extremely hot so I couldn’t exactly go out with a turtleneck on. I moved my hair over my neck just as an extra precaution before opening the door, seeing Coco standing on the other side of it. She raised her eyebrow suspiciously at me and I just smiled at her like nothing was happening.

    “Breakfast is getting cold.” She said looking past me into the bathroom, as if to find somebody in there. I gave her a small ‘okay’ and followed her out of my room and into the kitchen where everyone was at. They all looked up from their plates as we walked in and I took the empty seat next to Emi at the island table. I greeted them all a good morning as I poured myself a glass of orange juice from the vase in the center.

     “You look well rested (Y/n).” Mina said speaking up with a bit of food still in her mouth. The other girls giggled under their breaths as I eyed them, with the edge of the glass against my lips. Bitsy nudged my arm with her elbow before passing me a plate of food Coco had served for me.

    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said simply with a shrug from my shoulder, setting the glass down in front of me.

     “Come on guys. We all know (Y/n) isn’t the type to kiss and tell.” Emi said settling everyone down. “Or should I say fuck and tell.” I gasped as everyone busted out laughing again. So much for her being the innocent one of the group. Bitsy reached in front of me to give her a high five for the clever comment.

    “Again. What are you guys talking about?” I said trying to remain the impression of being clueless. I didn’t really mind if they knew or not, I could never keep secrets for these girls anyhow. But I have always said that your sex life is shared with the other person, I didn’t know how Jungkook felt about this. If he would openly talk about it with his friends or not. Probably would. He would love to brag about it to the older guys.

    “(Y/n), you and Jungkook both disappeared from the group last night. You expect us to believe you weren’t together at all?” Bitsy said with a smirk on her face as she grabbed her now empty plate. I began to eat my eggs calmly while she ranted and threw her plate in the sink to be washed later.

    “Well I don’t know about him but I stayed in bed talking to my mom last night before knocking out.” I said self-assured. She stood in front of me, looking me dead on to see find any lies in my eyes. She switched between each of my eyes, carefully convinced that she will find the truth. I maintained my blank stare through the entire twenty-five seconds, not breaking eye contact to even drink my juice.

    “You look too happy to have not gotten laid!” She said slamming her hands on the table not wanting to admit defeat just yet. I just shrugged and bit back a smile, looking back down at the food on my plate.

    “Well she was in bed when we came back in. I checked on her and she was knocked out cold.” Coco said taking a seat where Bitsy had been before. I didn’t know if she was telling the truth or lying to back me up. “I also came into use the bathroom earlier and she was talking alone in her room.” I loved Coco. She was for sure backing me up. I raised my brows at Bitsy to see if she had anything to in the contrary, now that we had an eye witness. She could only narrow her eyes at us before walking away into the living room behind.

Me and Coco were the last ones eating while everyone else was in the living room looking for something to watch. It was still early in the morning so we didn’t have to get appropriately dressed for the day just yet. I was helping Coco clean up the dishes and give a quick wipe down on the table after eating. Until there was an unexpected knock at the back door. It was a thick patterned glass door so only two figures could be seen through it. Mina ran up to open the door, stepping aside allowing Taehyung and Jin to walk through.

   “Oh hey guys! Come on in.” Coco said as if she was expecting them already. They both greeted us with a smile before coming in. They were each holding a paper bag in their arms and Coco pointed to the table for them to leave it on. “Thank you so much Jin. We haven’t had time to go grocery shopping for the week yet.” She said as they started to take some food out of the bags. I followed along to help them put things away in the pantry.

    “No problem. We’re going to be neighbors for the next month or so, it’s the least we could do after we’ve been using your volleyball court.” He joked. They had brought us some basic food items; bread, cheese, ham, mayo, and a random box of pop tarts. Some cans of other things but I didn’t get a chance to see what.

   “That reminds me! (Y/n) you should probably be the one to go grocery shopping today.” Coco said, handing me the loaf of bread to put away. I whined shoving the bread into the pantry, helping Tae with the cans in his arms while I was at it.

   “Why me?” I groaned. We had put everything away but it all still looked empty and definitely needed to be filled with food if we wanted to survive the next month and a half.

    “Because I don’t trust anyone else but you to take my baby out. Could you imagine how my car would come back looking if I let Bitsy take it?” Goddamn it she was right. If something happened to that car we would be stuck here and die. Why did I have to be the responsible one? I didn’t birth these girls but they sure acted like I did. “Love you?”

Coco said before stepping out of the kitchen to go find her car keys. I slouched against the counter table turning to look at the two males standing by me. I so not looking forward to this. Taehyung was looking down at his phone texting someone before he put it back in his pocket and caught me watching him. He gave me his cute boxy smile, his eyes moved down from my face to my chest.

    “Hey I have a shirt like that too!” He said with a surprised open mouth smile. I looked down at what I had on and I went cold when I realized this was the shirt I grabbed from Jungkook’s room. Jungkook’s and Taehyung’s shared room. I opened up to say something but at the same moment Coco walked in with the keys in her hand and was giving me a questioning look. Taehyung walked closer to me as the other girls had turned to see what he was talking about. “Yeah! Just like this one. Except mine has a hole on the…” He grabbed the left sleeve and pulled at it to reveal a ripped hole on the back of it. I covered the hole with my hand quickly but I knew he had seen it anyway. His eye were wide and he was at a loss of words. Before anything could be said, I moved away from him, taking the keys from Coco’s hand. They didn’t try to stop me as I walked out to the front door, slipping on my flip-flops and leaving the house.

Starting up the engine, I leaned my head against the wheel. How did I manage to get out of that one? I shook my head at my own idiocy with a small laugh. I decided to deal with the situation later and just have some me time for now. I wouldn’t be getting much of that for the entire summer. Pulling the car from it parked pace, just to realize I didn’t know where the nearest grocery story. I could have sworn we passed one on the way here, it had to be no more than 15 minutes away heading into town. Let’s hope I don’t get lost. I plugged my phone to the aux and turned up the radio to the first song that played. ‘Shut up & Groove’ by Heize started to play, my hand was trapping the wheel to the beat of the song. Quietly, to myself I mumbled the words and swayed my shoulders. Coming into a red light, I made a list in my head what we needed to eat at the house. We couldn’t eat out away or else we would gain so much weight. Luckily Mina and Coco were good at cooking, while the rest of us would have to clean up after them.

-

I was in and out of the store in less than an hour. A cute guy at the store helped me take the bags to the car, placing them in the trunk for me. I had asked him earlier where I could find the pancake mix and he showed me the way. He was attractive, a tall frame, with big dark eyes like the night.

    “Thanks so much. You really didn’t have to.” I said locking the trunk, leaving the keys to fiddle with in my hands. He rested his hand over the car, running it along the surface.

   “My pleasure.” His voice was smooth but not too deep. “This is a nice car you have here. Do you live close by?” His eyes may have been doe like but they could still stare strongly with his thick brows.

   “Some friends and I are staying over at her beach house for the summer but we’re from upstate.” I told him. He nodded, pushing some of the longer strands of his dark hair back.

   “By the beach, huh? Too bad I’m probably going to be working all summer, or I would go down there myself.” And he didn’t mean that to go for a swim. He was shameless flirting with me, usually I would be disgusted, but I was a sucker for pretty eyes like his.

   “Yeah that is too bad,” I said softly. I took a step closer to him, not too close but just enough for him to notice. “It’s so hot and the water feels so good against your skin.” I said virtuously. He looked pleased with my choice of words and I didn’t even know his name.

   “Well I’m sure I could fine a day. Especially if I might get the chance to run into you again.” He flashed me with a tempting smile. He moved so there was little space between our bodies, taking my hand and slipping a shred of paper onto my palm. “It was really nice meeting you (Y/n).” he wasn’t much taller than me, so his breath hit my ear spot on. He pulled away quickly and I looked down at the paper that read a seven digit number and his name.

   “Likewise, Jackson.” We said our final goodbyes before I slipped the number into my pocket.

Getting into the driver’s seat, I smiled to myself before starting up the car again. The sun was shining high in the sky, blinding me, I looked around the car for a pair of sunglasses. The only ones were at the bottom of the car seat and I struggled to reach them. Barely grazing them with my fingertips each time I tried.

  “Get out of the car! Get out of the car!” A loud voice shouted next me, making my heart stop. I thought I was being jumped for a split second before my eyes landed on Jungkook. I laid my hand on my chest, to make sure it was still pumping after the fright. He was laughing at my scare hysterically and leaning into the car.

   “What they hell Jungkook!? You almost gave me a heart attack.” I huffed at him, shooting him a glare at the same time. He was wearing a tight sleeveless shirt and thin joggers, a thin layer of sweat covered his body and a water bottle in one hand.

    “I couldn’t let that opportunity pass, could I?” He said as his laughter died out. He placed his forearms on the rim of the window and gave me a playful smile. “Wanna give me a ride?”

   “What makes you think I want to give you a ride after the stunt you just pulled on me?” His smile dropped to a cute pout. I tried not to smile at how adorable he looked, I just placed the sunglasses over my eyes.

   “Please? I don’t feel like jogging back home.” He groaned. I rolled my eyes even though he couldn’t seem them through the tinted glasses. I jerked my head to the side, motioning for him to jump into the passenger’s seat. His eyes lit up and he happily skipped over to the other side of the car. I debated if I should run him over with the car as he walked in front of it. I mean I guess I shouldn’t ruin such an expensive vehicle with his blood.

For the first couple of minutes in the car, we didn’t say a single word. It was exactly awkward but I could feel a conversation coming up. It was only a matter of who was going to start it. He was looking to the outside, enjoying how the breeze came in contact with his face. It blew his hair back, making him look like a movie star from an old film.

“So you went for a jog all the way over here…” It wasn’t much of a question but it was something. He leaned his head to the side looking at me. His eyes ran down my seated figure and I tried to maintain my eyes on the road.

   “It helps me think and de-stress.” He sounded unexpectedly serious. His voice had gone down a full octave but he seem to be in distress. I pushed some hair behind my ear before putting both hands back on the steering wheel.

   “What is there to think about this early in the summer?” I stopped at the red light in front of me, grabbing my phone that I had re-plugged into the sound system of the car. I scrolled through my music, pretending not to be interested in the conversation.

   “Just some girl.” I snapped my head in his direction. Some girl? What girl? Did he have a girl back home? His head was still resting against the seat, but his eyes were closed calmly. I stared at him, not sure if to take him seriously or not. The car behind me honked at me because I hadn’t noticed the light turn green again. Jungkook opened one of his eyes to see what was distracting me from the road. I saw a small smirk play at the corner of his mouth before I continued to drive once again.

   “What girl?” I said trying to sound bored but I don’t think he believed it. My arms and hands were way to tensed to believe it. He was to happy and relaxed about it. There was a small chuckle beneath his breath.

   “Some girl who had the balls to run out on me in the middle of the night, after giving the best blow job of my life.” I choked on his words slightly but my hands relaxed at the wheel. Of his life, huh? He was such an idiot sometimes. I was able to keep pulling off that unimpressed tone with him.

   “She left a note.”

“Yeah I read it.” He cut me off as I tried to defend myself. He wasn’t angry, he was more like curious about me and my way of being. It was usually the women who wanted to stay the night, only to wake up to find him gone in the morning. “I had to go.” He said, repeating my choice of words in the letter.

   “I did have to go.” He clicked his tongue slightly annoyed. Shaking his head as if I wasn’t understanding him. He took a moment, choosing his next words carefully because this could easily turn into an argument.

   “And now I see you wearing Taehyung’s torn shirt and makeup to cover up the marks on your neck.” Was Jungkook honestly butt-hurt that I didn’t stay the night with him? He was a lot more sensitive than I thought. It made me laugh actually, he was just a big baby wasn’t he? “Turn left on the next street.” I shot him a questioning look. The way back home was taking the main street all the way down to the beach. We were only ten minutes away. “Just do it.”

He didn’t feel like explaining it and I didn’t feel like asking. I would find out eventually. I took the next left, that lead me down a road with no end. We were already close to the beach, just going the other way. I assumed I had to follow this road because there were no other roads that connected to it. It was just green on each side of us with a couple of trees. The road began to curve into a full spiral that lead up. There were no other cars, or houses for that matter, along the it. Before I questioned him were this street lead us to, I got my answer. It ended up a hill with a flatten surface, that had been clear out. The only thing that kept anyone from falling off the edge was a short fence, that looked more to stop cars and could easily be jumped over.

   “What are we doing here?” I asked bringing the car to a stop a few feet away from the edge.

    “Get out of the car.” He said doing just that. He unbuckled his seat-belt and stepped out, not even looking in my direction. I slowly did the same, watching him as he came back around to my side, opening the door for me. I turned off the engine but left the keys in just in case I needed to leave fast. Jungkook could easily overpower me and throw me off the cliff if he wanted too. But I wasn’t afraid of him, so I stepped out normally, coming face to face with him. I moved to the side so that he could close door but instead he stepped along with me. Leaving me trapped between the door and him.

   “What are you thinking Jungkook?” He wasn’t pressing against me but was barely leaving me space to breathe. His eyes stared into mine, I couldn’t quite read his emotions.

   “Do you really want to know?” There is was again. His voice was deep and teasing me. Why was I into this?

I reached to touch his shoulder but he was quick to grip my wrist, pushing his weight onto me. The metal of the car was warm against my body and he had me pinned against it. He didn’t need to tell me anything more, while his lips crashed onto mine, I didn’t try to touch him again. His lips were moving against mine harshly, barely waiting for me to kiss him back. It was warm and soft, tasting only like how he did. His body was still sweaty from his run, him and the toasty car were making my body grow heated. His lips were working on mine had just the right amount of desperation and desire. He was holding something in his other hand because it was running down my waist and to my hips. I felt shameless for allowing him to have me like this, pressed up against the car in the middle of nowhere. In public, where if anyone were to come this way, they would surely see us. But the way his tongue was running over my lip, just begging me to let him in, clouded my mind of reasoning. My breathing grew heavy from all the air he was taking right out of my mouth. He let go of my wrist and trailed his hand to the front of my jeans. He was quick to unbutton and unzip them, leaving it open for his fingers to caress the new exposed skin.

    “You okay with this?” He asked as If I really had a choice. I didn’t when his fingers were already playing with the waistband of my panties. His fingertips were gentle but persistent, only leaving me with one choice because I wanted more. More of him even after just having a taste the night before.

    “Hurry up before I change my mind.” I pushed my hips into his hand but he pulled his away, leaving my lips at the same time. I watched him open up the bottle of water he had been holding in his other hand. There was only a bit left, barely a mouth full. He let the cap drop to the floor before he brought the water up to my mouth. I parted my lips for him as he turned the bottle for it to pour out. It hit my lips and some of it went into my mouth but most of it fell down my chin and ran down my neck. It was soothing, making me shudder at how it cooled my heated skin. Leaving the now empty bottle on the floor along with the cap, he brought his hand to the nap of my neck. He pulled me into another kiss, my eyes shutting at the mild sweetness of his lips. His hand ran along my neck, down to my throat. His fingers dug at my skin, massaging and rubbing the water against me.

    “Don’t ever try to hide these again.” Jungkook mumbled harshly against my mouth in the middle of a kiss. I then understood he was removing the concealer from the marks I had tried to cover up. I wanted to say yes but it ended up coming as a moan onto his lips.

His hand ran up my waist, lifting up the hem of Taehyung’s shirt that was slightly soaked on top from the water. He rubbed at my soft skin, his fingers crept there way up just to find that I wasn’t wearing a bra. He groaned at the side of my head, his lips were working at nipping at my neck and running his tongue over at the dripped water. I let my head lean back, allowing his more space to do what he wanted. My arms and hands were resting against the car, gripping on to withstand my weak knees. He was leaning me over the car but I wanted to be pressed against him. I tried to but every time my center brushed against him he just pinned me against the car further. He was dominating yes but only because I was letting him and I was growing impatient at his hands. Thinking he wasn’t getting the signs I was throwing his way, I took my hand and gripped him through the fabric of his running joggers. He was quick to detach himself from my body and push my hand away. He wasn’t even hard yet. Was I not turning him on at all? I was over here basically dripping onto my panties and he hadn’t even touched me right.

    “Don’t.” His muttered, eyes warned me along with the tight grip of his hand on my side. I would have been intimated if the sunlight wasn’t hitting him so perfectly, making him glow like an angel.

    “Please?” I asked, knowing he liked it when I looked at him desperately. His eyes soften filling up with a longing desire.

He cursed something under his breath before pulling me in for one quick kiss. Before I could think of touching him again he dropped down to my feet. I was startled at first but he was already pulling down my tight jeans and underwear before I could question him. He ran his large hands up my smooth legs, making them shake under his touch. I looked around us for any signs of people but there was no movement other than the trees swaying in the summer wind. He gripped the back of my calf, lifting my leg to step out the pool of clothes around my ankles. Just stepping one foot out, so he could spread my legs open enough to get an ideal view of my core. The air hit the new opened space and just then I realized how wet he had gotten me. The breeze made my core feel cold and it my skin crawl. I wasn’t going to deny that watching Jungkook from this angle was dreamlike. He looked ridiculously good, how his eyes just studied every inch of my craving flesh, his hands resting on my lower thigh as if too scared to touch me.

    “I’ll show you what it feels like…” Jungkook said, peeking up at me for a moment. He leaned in, his face disappearing between my thighs but I could feel his nose and hot breath against me. Lips grazing and pecking at the sensitive skin of my lower lips. I had to fight back the urge to let my head roll back, I didn’t want to take my eyes off of him. The heat assembling in my core was making it’s way through my body. It was making me weak and desperate, my head was clouded and thought about only him. His tongue poked out between his lips and ran itself against me, pushed through my lips and finding my throbbing button. With the very tip of his tongue he made me lose my breath and my heart quit. My sense became awake to feel more of him, how he skillfully moved his mouth round it. Crushing my throbbing nub between his soft lips causing me to yelp involuntarily as a result. He let the warmth wetness of his tongue flatten against my clit, dragging it along it over and over again. Feeling how my body jolted with every flick, his hands holding me against the car and against his beautiful mouth. He leaned his head back, so that he could look at me and shove his tongue deeper in me. His eyes looked hazed but was still admiring the pleasure on my face. I wanted to move my hips against his mouth at the pace that would make me come. I had to shut my eyes to find the last bit of sanity I had to not ride his face and just allow him to continue as he wanted.

    “Ahh Jungkook…” I could barely speak his name to let him how good he was making me feel. But just that was enough for him to know, I could tell by the way he was making his movement much more rough. Jungkook hummed against my clit, the vibrations sending a wave of shocking pleasure through. I arched my back off the car, adding pressure at my center making the feeling all the more intense. My legs were starting to tremble and quiver, I was afraid they would actually give out no matter how much I tried to hang on. Jungkook seemed to notice this as well and he gave a couple more flicks to my clit before pulling away. I gasped for as much air as I could while I had the chance to. I looked down at him to find him staring up at me already, he was licking his already wet lips that were drenched in my arousal.

    “You taste so good baby girl.” He chuckled tasting the mess I had made on his face. I shuddered at the sight and found myself reaching down to him. He didn’t move. He let me cup his handsome face, my thumb ran under his bottom lip, collecting the clear wetness that had spread down to his chin. Without hesitation he opened up his mouth accepting my finger to suck on. “So sweet.”

He groaned taking my finger out of his mouth, a smile curling on his lips. My heat was still pulsing and aching for release and Jungkook wasn’t planning on leaving me high and dry. He grabbed the back of my thigh and forced one of my legs over his broad shoulder. I grabbed onto the side of the car as some of my weight shifted onto him for support in the new position but he also got more access to the rest of my core. He gave me a cheeky wink before getting back into pleasuring me. He was much more vicious this time around, right away with the flat side of his tongue he attacked my clit. The sudden actions made me jerk forward and grab onto his head with a single hand. I could feel him pause to smirk but still barely enough for the feeling to fade. His lips were so soft and they touched my skin like starting a fire, it only spread rapidly without control. He was in full control and knowledge on using his tongue, on how hard or light his strokes were, how quick or slow he made them. I pressed my lips together trying to hold in the moan from the back of my mouth, I was scared I would only yell out. Jungkook was leaving open mouth kisses all over my core, running his tongue every step of the way. I could feel myself dripping into his mouth when my wall throbbed around themselves. My cheek were probably already flushed but they were burning bright as I thought about how desperate I must have looked getting eaten out in the middle of the day against my friend’s car. This was not how I imagined my summer at all.

   “Fuck!” He sucked at my clit harshly. I clenched at random strands of hair on his head, pulling at the roots as he was eager to make me feel high. He let one of his hands slip under me and next thing I knew his fingers were toying with my heat along with his tongue. I let out a cry that sounded like I was in pain but it was nothing but pure pleasure that caused it. He ran his fingers over my slit, soaking them up before he pushed one through my entrance. My stomach tensed up as he slowly pulled it out.

   “I could slide right in baby. You are soaked (Y/n).” He groaned while my walls were clenching around the single digit. He pumped it in slowly and connected his lips onto my clit. He flicked and rubbed his tongue against it, surely feeling how it throbbed at his actions. I could barely keep my eyes on him because it just felt so damn good. I could fall apart and melt at the feeling alone. His fingertip curled to rub against my inner wall and make my leg around him shake. The feeling of having his tongue on me and finger in me was becoming overwhelming but because it was making me long for the full feeling his cock gave me last night. I needed more. I wanted him more than anything else.

   “Jungkook…more.” I whined and pulled at his hair to get his attention. He didn’t bother with my complaints though. He was getting his revenge on me for ditching him the night before. Of course that’s what it was. He wanted to feel in control of me and if he wanted me in bed with him all night, I should be. Him remembering that made his move his tongue slower than before. The heat in my belly was slowly growing painfully smaller to the point where I could cry. He was sure to rub the pads of his finger against my wall to drag out the almost nonexistent flame. “You little brat!”

    “I don’t know If you could take more (Y/n).” He teased making me grow frustrated. I suddenly remembered why I wanted to hit him with the car earlier. I whimpered as he pulled his finger out of me, rubbing it against my clit gently as he pretended to think for a moment. I pulled his hair so that he would look at me and only me.

   “I swear to god Jungkook. I will ruin you if think you can tease me like this.” I warned him. It wasn’t me talking, it was my build up frustration at my pulsing heat.

  “Why don’t you ask me nicely sweetheart?” He said pressing against my clit with the soft pad of his thumb. I could kill him. I could kill myself for wanting to give in. I was prideful as hell but I was also needy and wanted some release. I’ll get him back for this.

  “Please Jungkook. Your mouth feels so good.” I whine, faking the sweetest voice I could manage. It wasn’t much but he knew it was better than nothing.

He still smirked, feeling victorious before inserting his fingers into my clenching and dripping heat once again. This time going in with with two fingers, feeling my core take him in with every thrust he gave. This fingers ran long and thick, reaching the best places I could never find on my own. With the back of my hand, I pushed his head between the pace of my parted legs. He sucked on my sensitive skin making my eyes roll to the back of my head. His fingers started to pump harder into my hole, the pressure hitting deep within my stomach. He added a third digit, stretching me out like his cock would if he were fucking me with it. The familiar tight knot in my stomach began to form and was growing rapidly. My hips began to rock against his hot mouth, taking it into my own hands to find my release. By the sounds coming from Jungkook’s mouth he was okay with me grinding into his tongue. His were shut as he savored the taste of me on his mouth, his thick long eyelashes revealed the alluring stare. The heat coming from his stare was enough to make me squirm and melt. The pleasure was convulsing through my body.

   “Come on my tongue baby. C’mon…” My mind was being wiped black, with only his fingers and tongue guiding me to my climax. His name was the only thing leaving my trembling lips, slowly dying out from its previous ear piercing state. He pumped his fingers through the last shocks of my orgasm and then removed them dripped in come. Replacing them with his opened mouth, not letting any of his hard work go to waste.

I had to eventually push his head away because he was about to make me cry from the over stimulation. A sweet childlike chuckle left his lips, looking up at me with a smile plastered on his face while his hands ran up my thighs. I leaned against the car as I removed my leg over his shoulder. Jungkook was caressing my leg sweetly as they still appeared weak from my orgasm.

    “Here.” He took me by the waist with his strong arms like I weighed next to nothing. He helped me take a seat on the trunk of the car, my clothes still hanging around one of my ankles. Jungkook helped me slip on my underwear and skinny jeans, while I waited for the feeling in my legs to return. I ran my hand over my forehead, wiping the sweat that had collected there, watching Jungkook run his hands through his mess of a hair. His light tanned skin glowed under the light of the sun behind us. He met my gaze and shot me a flirtatious smirk. “So what are you doing later?”

    “Not you.” I rolled my eyes at him causing him to chuckle. He moved closer to me, taking up the space between my legs, trying to lean in. I raised my brow at him wondering if he was trying to ask me on a date or for a fucking session.

    “Jimin really likes that friend of yours. So he wants to invite you guys over the house later.” Jungkook explained, still running his hands over my denim covered thighs. “It would be strange if you were the only one who wasn’t there.” I leaned back on my arms with my pants still unbuttoned. “And I think you should get a chance to actually get a look at the house during the day.” He winked.

   “I had an awkward run in with Taehyung this morning, he loved his shirt on me.” There was a bit of jealousy that glared in Jungkook’s eyes from my teasing words.

   “No one will believe Taehyung.” I plainly shrugged and looked over to the driver’s seat. Remembering I had to get home to put away the groceries that could go bad from the heat inside the car.

    “We’ll see. I have to go.” I gently pushed Jungkook away so that I could get down from the car. He stopped me halfway down, holding me up by my upper arms.

    “Running off on me again, huh.” He whispered for the moment he had me close to his face. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him straight in the eyes, I had my gazed fixed down to his neck. He could be intimidatingly seductive at times making me feel small under his stare.“Sure you can drive with those shaking legs (Y/n)?”

   “Don’t you have a boner to run off?” But the effect it had on me only lasted a moment before I brought myself back up to his size. He snickered before letting me off the car and stepping back to leave. I drew in a deep breath watching him begin to jog off back home.

The car was still on and I button up my pants and grabbed my sunglasses before pulling the car into reverse. On the way down the road I could see Jungkook running down and I beeped at him. He didn’t need to turn his head around for me to know that he was smirking as he moved closer to the edge of the street. I kept my head looking forward as I passed him with the car, his eyes watching me as I decided not to run him over.  

[gusenitsaa]

Nine Lives to Live (3/3)

What happens when the ladybug’s chaton runs out of lives to live; but Ladybug isn’t ready to give him up yet. Thanks for looking it over @xhookswenchx! and thanks again to the horrible @littleblackchat​ whose comic inspired this mess.  Go,  view the thing and weep.

Chapter 1 tumblr/ FF

Chapter 2 on tumblr/ FF

Chapter 3

He asked too many questions now and she tried to be honest with him, but every question scared her to death. What if he remembers? What if this is how I lose him again? So she told him just enough and never enough.

Sometimes it was worse, knowing her secret. Before when she'd disappear he'd simply be in a bad mood for the rest of the day, never dreaming that the super-heroine risking her life each day was his Marinette. He found himself glued to the television, to the ladyblog, to anything that would tell him that she was safe.

Sometimes she came home elated, sometimes exhausted. The worst nights she came home bruised or bleeding and he would carefully help her to bandage up her scrapes, silently cursing his own helplessness.

Tonight was a bad night. He'd seen her on the television again, smiling in victory but her hands clenched a little too tight. A forced smile that he knew all too well. He pulled out the first aid kit before she even got home and checked his phone every few minutes, hoping for news. Within a few minutes it chimed.

Marinette 9:23pm: Can you come pick me up?

Adrien 9:23pm: Where are you?

Adrien 9:24pm: Marinette?

Adrien 9:26pm: Mari, where the hell are you?

He grabbed his keys and sprinted for the door, heading for the place where he'd seen her giving an interview just a few minutes prior to her text. He left the car in a spot that was certainly not legal and looked around.

She was tired, probably hurt, she needed a place to hide, to transform out of sight... quickly. A small dark alley caught his eye and he ran, lighting up the space with his phone's flashlight.

There.

At the end of the alley, Marinette was crumpled against the wall, her tiny red kwami dancing around her face nervously.

"Marinette!" He rushed to her side, shoved his phone in his pocket and moved to lift her. He felt something warm and wet. "God, she's bleeding. What the hell happened out there, Tikki?"

"I’m sorry, Adrien," Tikki said quietly.

He slipped one arm under her knees and the other around her back and gently lifted her from the ground. Mari’s eyes flickering open blearily and she groaned.

"Shhh, It's all right, bugaboo, I've got you."

"Chat?" Mari whimpered, "Oh thank God, mon chaton, I thought I'd lost you." He glanced down at Tikki who suddenly refused to meet his gaze.

"I'm taking you to a hospital, you're going to be all ri-”

"No hospitals, chaton. Home. I just want to go home."

He'd already reached his car by now and he set her gently in the passenger seat. It didn't take long for them to reach home but she was out cold again before he lifted her from the car and hurried inside.

"Tikki, get the key from my pocket," he ordered and in moments the door was open. He kicked it closed behind them and laid her down on the couch, grateful that he'd pulled out the medical supplies before he'd left.  

Darting to the kitchen, he grabbed a kitchen towel and hurried back to her. He pressed it to her side where most of the blood seemed to be coming from and held it fast until the bleeding began to slow.

"She can't keep doing this, Tikki," he chided as he pulled out bandages from their kit. "It will kill her. One of these days, it will kill her." Once he'd bandaged and cleaned her up as well as he could he’d nothing to do but wait.  She wasn't unconscious, nor was she entirely awake. She seemed to be in a daze and he found himself worrying that she’d hit her head.

"Mon chaton," Mari whispered again, and Adrien's jaw tightened.

He paced back and forth in their living room, doing his best to wear his path into the carpet. "I should take her to the hospital," he grumbled after what seemed like hours of listening to her mumble mostly incoherent nonsense to her dead partner.

"She's right, Adrien," the kwami replied. "People might suspect something if she goes to a hospital.  She just needs to rest."

"Rest? She's hallucinating her damn partner, Tikki. That hardly seems fine."

She began to murmur again and he knelt next to her, brushing her hair from her face and cupping her cheek in his hand. She didn't seem feverish at least.

"mmm'fine, Chat. paw-sitive." She giggled lightly, "get it?"

"I need you to wake up, sweetheart," he said gently. "Please, open your eyes for me. Let me know you're all right or I'm taking you to the hospital." It took a few minutes of his gentle prodding but she gradually roused herself enough to open her eyes and focus on him.

She gave him a small smile. "Adrien.  How did I get…"

"You texted me, Mari, and then passed out. Scared me to death again." He helped her to sit up and pressed a glass of water into her hand. "Drink, it will help."

"Thank you for finding me."

"Always.  Though I'd thank you to not be covered in blood next time. " He passed her a couple pain killers next and she swallowed them with the rest of the water.

It did help and Tikki was right, after a few hours she was tired but mostly herself again. He wondered if she remembered her hallucinations. He must have been staring, because Marinette's eyebrows furrowed. "What's wrong Adrien?"

"What if next time I can't find you in time?" he asked quietly, voice strained.  “You could have bled to death in that alley, alone... less than a kilometer from our home.”

"But I didn't. Adrien, I'm all right. I'm going to get hurt sometimes in this line of work, but most of the time the magic patches me right up again anyway. You know that, you've seen it."

"You need a partner, Marinette."

"Yeah, well I had one," she said bitterly. "I let him die."

Adrien was quiet again before finally he sighed. "He was very special to you, wasn't he? Chat Noir? He was... more than just your partner."

"Yes, of course. He was my best friend."

Adrien shook his head sadly, "You thought I was him when I found you, Marinette. That's not... that's not how you speak with your best friend. You were in love with him, weren't you?" Marinette hesitated.

"It's not… It's not that simple-"

Adrien looked up at her. "Don't I deserve to know if you were in love with another man?

"Yes, alright," Mari admitted. "Yes, I was in love with him.”  

Somehow he'd known for a while now, but hearing her say the words out loud sent a pang through his heart regardless. While he was struggling to cope with the barrier of lies between them, there was another who knew, who understood this secret side of the woman he loved.

“I never told him, I don't even think I fully realized it myself."

Underneath the pain and confusion an unexpected feeling came to the surface.  Relief. Relief that for once she was telling him the truth.

"I … I understand,” he whispered, the words surprising even himself. “He was a part of this life that you had to keep to yourself. You counted on him. And hey-" he laughed bitterly, "you always came home to me, right?"

"Yes. Always."

He nodded. "I'm sorry.  Now was not the time for that conversation. But I just listened to you talk to Chat Noir for a few hours. I guess I'm not a good enough man to just… let it go."

"You are a good man, Adrien. You're the best man I know."

He smiled and rose, stretching out muscles that had begun to cramp squatted next to the couch. Not particularly comfortable. Speaking of comfortable... he bent and put one arm under Marinette's legs. "Grab on. You should sleep in a real bed."

"I can walk you know," she protested.

He smiled half-heartedly, "I may not be a superhero but I think I can manage this much." She locked her arms around his neck and he lifted her gently and made his way back into the bedroom. He set her on her feet next to the bed, keeping one arm around her waist until he was sure she was stable. He helped her to change out of her stained clothes and got her settled into bed.  He dropped a kiss on her hand before retreating to turn off the light, but she refused to release his hand.

“Stay, please?”

“I was hoping you would say that,” he said with a relieved smile.  She pulled him down next to her and he placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"Sleep well, Princess."

Once Marinette was asleep he slipped from the bed, tucking her back in to ensure she was fast asleep.  He grabbed his coat and hurried from the apartment in search of the one place that he had been quite certain that he would never set foot in again.

His father's house.

He'd a distant memory of a book that had something about Ladybug. Whatever that book said, he needed to know now, before she got herself killed.  He needed that library, and Gabriel Agreste was not going to keep him from what he needed to know. He tried his code on the pinpad, unsure if it would still work but to his surprise the light flashed green and the gate creaked open.

The house was just as he remembered it. Cold and empty.

He made for the library, hardly bothering to quiet his steps. He'd never been noticed when he lived here, he doubted anything had changed. When he reached the library he paused for a moment unsure of exactly what he was looking for.

Bypassing all the shelves he headed straight for where his father would keep whatever was most precious. A safe in the back hidden by the portrait of his mother. He stared at the portrait for a moment,  the one part of this cold house that he truly missed.  Finally he pulled it open and looked at the safe for a moment.  A doubtful look came over his face and he tried a number. The safe opened with a cheerful chime and his jaw dropped. His own birthday. His father had used his birthday to protect the safe? There were some years that Adrien wasn't even sure his father remembered his birthday. He shook his head and reached into the safe, pulling out some papers and a small black box to get to a large brown book in the back. Opening it he found that the text was in code, but with illustrations. This was about ladybug and Chat Noir. He opened the box and saw a simple black ring with a green paw-

“Adrien?”

Adrien froze at his father’s voice, some part of him suddenly feeling like a child again, caught doing something disappointing to the family name. He slipped the ring into his pocket and shut the box before turning around.

“Father.”

“There was no need to sneak in, Adrien, this is your house too. But that book… why do you seek it?”

“This is the reason there has been no new Chat Noir, isn't it?”  He held up the black box, “Because you're keeping it… why?”

His father hesitated a moment and then seemed to make a decision. “I hoped it might help me to return something to me that I lost.”

“This city needs Chat Noir. Ladybug needs Chat Noir.”

“And you suppose it's a simple matter of putting on a ring?” his father commented.  “The power in that ring would destroy someone not chosen to wield it.  Put it down.  You are my son and I will not allow you to court danger with delusions of grandeur.”

Affecting his most convincing disappointed face Adrien returned the box to the safe and his father shut the door the moment it closed.  

“Ad-”

“I'm keeping the book,” he told his father and stalked from the room.  Some tiny part of him hoped that he would be followed.  But he walked out the same way he had every other time. Completely alone.

Marinette was still asleep when he woke the next morning, having crawled into bed late after returning from his father's house.  

The last akuma had really been hard on her...  He got out of bed carefully, and dressed trying not to wake her.  He dropped into the chair in front of his desk and opened the brown book again. He thumbed through it absentmindedly, not entirely certain what he was looking for. He could read very little of it, but he found illustrations of Ladybug and Chat Noir and their miraculous. He saw Marinette's earrings on one page and Chat Noir’s ring on another.  His hand slipped into his pocket when suddenly he was startled by a cry from the bed.

"Adrien… where did you get that?"

He turned, surprised,  "My father's library. Do you know it?"

"Yes, I thought it was lost when I came back. I mean- Why do you have it?"

"You can't do this alone, Marinette. This book has the key to bringing back the power of Chat Noir's miraculous.  I know it won't be the same but... you need a partner."

"No. Adrien, please." She pulled herself tentatively from the bed and moved towards him. "You have to let this go."

"Let it go? Marinette, you almost died yesterday, you can barely walk today. How could I possibly let this go?"

"Adrien, there is a reason the power is gone. And it cannot come back."  

"Why? Mari, you need help."

"When he died… Listen to me, Adrien.  I can't tell you everything but I need you to know that what I am telling you is the truth, okay?"

He nodded as she leaned against the desk next to him and flipped to the page on Chat Noir.  She pointed to the ring on the illustration the one that matched the one hidden in his pocket. "You're right.  This ring is the key to bringing back Chat Noir's power, but Chat Noir's death is what allows you to live.”

“How do you know this?”

“Papillon.”

“And you believed him?”

“I couldn't risk losing you again, Adrien.”

“Again?”

“I can't explain, and I'm begging you not to ask. But if Chat were to return… I might lose you both. Do you understand?"  

“No, but I trust you.” She flipped closed the book and leaned into him. He wrapped his arms around her shaking frame. "You shouldn't have to carry this alone," he whispered.

"I'm not alone."

The sound of sirens pulled her from her reverie and she felt Adrien stiffen.

"No, Marinette, please… not this time. You're still hurt."

"I'm feeling better already," she gave him that fake smile that made him cringe and stood.

"Tikki, spots on."

Damn.  

She was gone before he had the chance to say another word and he dropped his face into his hands.  It's going to kill her.   This is going to kill her.  

He raced out of the apartment after her, watching her take to the skyline. She wasn't feeling better. He knew it before the rest of Paris, but Paris would know soon enough. In the distance he watched something hit her hard and she went flying from the rooftop, just barely managing to catch herself.

Adrien ran, hardly knowing what he would do when he caught up with her, only knowing that he couldn't leave her alone. Not like this.

The Akuma she faced had a bizarre reptilian face and the wings of a dragon and God… she was in no shape for this. Reporters had gathered on the street below, awaiting the inevitable victory speech but this time was different. The creature tossed her like a ragdoll up on the roof and the reporters watched with dumb horrified expressions. Adrien didn't wait, sprinting into the building and finding the stairwell. He raced up, flight after flight, his lungs burning, listening the the crashing from above with increasing terror.

"Give me your miraculous, bug," he heard the creature roar. "Or you will splatter on the streets of Paris!"

He reached the roof access and pushed it open slightly. Ladybug was on her hands and knees bruises blooming across her face and her uniform once more wet with blood. Her yo-yo lay lost on the other side of the roof while the creature stood over her and she glared up defiantly.

The reptile dove for her, fangs gleaming in the sunlight and Adrien moved without thinking, bursting from the roof access and placing himself between the creature and Ladybug.

He closed his eyes but to his surprise it stopped and looked confused, he reached into his pocket and a small smile slipped over his lips. "I'm sorry, Princess," he whispered, "I refuse to watch you die."

Realization and horror dawned in her eyes but it was too late. He put the ring on his finger. A small voice near his ear screamed at him to say transform me but the reptile knocked him out of the way to reach Ladybug. He said the words and there was a sudden burst of light and the sound of voices in his head. Too much, too loud. He cried out, his head falling into his hands as the voices screamed at him… not voices… memories.

He remembered. He remembered races across the rooftops and terrible puns. He remembered Timebreaker and Copycat and wanting to kiss her so badly when they defeated an Akuma but knowing he'd have to wait until they got home. Because Adrien was allowed to kiss her… Chat was not. He remembered a moment not unlike this one. A strike that Ladybug had not seen coming, desperately throwing himself between her and her attacker. The thought was enough to make him look up.

"What have you done?" The reptilian creature was screaming at her, but her eyes were fixed on him, tears falling freely. He glanced up and saw a dragon wing necklace hanging around the creature's neck and launched himself for it. "Paw-don me," he cried, grabbing the necklace with one hand and pulling it free. He tossed it to Ladybug who caught it with a look of surprise.

"Come on, bugaboo. Help meow-t!"

She snapped out of it and smashed the necklace between her boot and the concrete, quickly neutralizing the Akuma. The recently akumatized man stammered something incomprehensible and bolted for the stairs back into the building.

"Bien joue'?" he said, dropping down beside her and offering her his hand.  

"You're-"

"Chat Noir, pleasure to meet you-" he teased, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet.

"You were dead… Hawkmoth said if you remembered…"

"He lied."

"Why?"

"So he could keep the ring for himself, probably. Bugaboo… My Lady? Why are you crying?" 

"Why am I crying!? You were dead you stupid cat! You died and I lost you and THAT'S how you tell me you're Chat Noir? And I got you… I got Adrien back, but you weren't … quite right and I was so afraid. So afraid that if you remembered I would lose you again." She launched herself into his arms and he stumbled back a step but closed his arms around her, nuzzling her neck with his nose.

"I'm sorry, my-"

"You're sorry? Don't you ever do that to me again, Chat. You shouldn't have jumped in front of me, you shouldn't have-" Tears were streaming afresh down her face and he shushed her gently, rubbing the tears away with both thumbs.

"I'm not sorry for that, my lady. Never." She punched him in the shoulder and he shrugged. "I love you."

"I love you too."

She'd told him that before, of course. Countless times as Marinette and they had been happy, but they had not been whole. There was a distance between them of so many lies, so many half-truths. But this time ... no more secrets.

She closed her eyes, the last secret between them weighing heavily on her mind.  

“I know why he lied.  I know why he tried to keep you from remembering your life as Chat Noir.”

“Because he’s a super villain? Lying is what they do.”

“He was trying to protect you.”

Chat pulled away slightly to look at her.  “Protect me? That doesn't make s-”

“Because he’s your father, Adrien.”

His jaw dropped and for a moment he said nothing, then he murmured something under his breath and Chat vanished in a flash of light.

“Spots off,” Marinette said, joining him in civilian form.  

Adrien was sitting on the ledge of the roof now, his Kwami in the palm of his hand, and Marinette came to sit next to him.

“Are you alright, Adrien?”

“What happened?”

“You jumped in front of me. You took a blow that was meant for me and it killed you.” Her voice was small and she leaned into him for support.  “I thought I'd lost you, both of you. Hawkmoth said he could bring you back with the power of your miraculous… I had to try.”

“It was lucky that nothing else changed,” Tikki spoke up. “Changing the past, even just a few minutes...it's very dangerous, Marinette.”

“And to change something further back,” Adrien asked. “He would need Ladybug’s power for that?”

Tikki nodded.

“My mother.”  The words came out on a breath and this time she leaned in to support him.  

“Would you let him try, if it were up to you?” Marionette asked carefully.

“Marinette!” Tikki scolded, but Marinette shushed her.

Adrien was quiet for a moment then finally shook his head. “Tikki is right. Even if changing something from so long ago didn't risk so much today… my father cannot be trusted with that power. All this time, all this fighting, so many people caught in the crossfire… He doesn't care who gets in his way.”   Adrien stood and pulled Marinette up with him, “Does he know … who you are?”

“No.”  

“Good.  You’ll need to be more careful. He’ll keep coming, but now that he knows who I am he’ll be trying to go around me to get to you.”  

“Let him try,” Marinette said stubbornly.

“Not if I can help it,  I think it's about time I had a conversation with my father.”

Chat Noir marched into the Agreste manor armed with no more than an old book and a gamble.  Gabriel met him in the grand foyer and Adrien would have been lying if he said he did not enjoy ordering his father to a more private room. Once they were alone he slammed the book down on his father’s desk and flipped it open to the histories of previous cat-miraculous holders.

“Do you know, Monsieur Agreste, how many Chat Noirs have died protecting their Ladybug?”  Before he could answer Chat continued, flipping through page after page of the history.  “Nearly. Every. One.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know who you are.  I know what you want, and I will not allow you to have it.”

“You don't understand-”

“Don't I, father?”

“Adrien... if you’d only allow me to explain-”

“You cannot be trusted with the power of your own miraculous, let alone ours, and my mother would be ashamed of the carnage you've wrought in her name. Messing with time is dangerous and my lady and I have agreed that we got lucky,  but it is not worth the risk again. So let me be very clear,  you can continue to fight us, continue to seek the ultimate power, but I will be there by her side every day. I will block every strike. I will trade my life for hers without a second thought should it come to that.  I have made my decision.  Now you must make yours.”

He was still shaking with a potent mixture of adrenaline and relief when he returned to their apartment where Marinette was pacing nervously.  Without bothering to detransform he swept her up into his arms and held her tight.

“Do you really think it will work?” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I don’t know, Princess,  but I had to try.”  

“And what if it does work?  What happens to Ladybug and Chat Noir when there are no more super-villains to fight?”

“I don’t think Paris will ever not need our help… and I do know you’d miss the leather…”

She reached up and rubbed his ears teasingly,  “Like you wouldn’t?”

He grinned, unabashed,  “but I would not mind facing villains without superpowers occasionally.  And not having to run off at the sound of every siren…” as though at his cue the sound of a distant siren drifted through their window and he winced.  

“Could be nothing...” he started, tightening his arms around her.

“Could be a… a false alarm,  the police could probably handle it,” she agreed.

Her eyes drifted towards the window and Chat sighed, loosening his grip.  “You want to go check it out don’t you?”

“It’ll just take a minute,” she bounded to the window and cried ‘spots on.’  He grinned when she looked back at him,  a bright smile on her face and her trusty yo yo in her hand.  “Well, come on!  Last one to the scene does dishes for a week!”  

“You’re on, Bugaboo!  You know… I do hate getting my paws wet.”

AN: Hope you all had fun.  Come say hi to me or leave a note on FF so I don’t get lonely and get akumatized.  Just sayin’  :P

[mariequitecontrarie]

Passing Inspection: Part 2

The Fic: For my 1,000 Follower Tumblr Prompt-A-Thon, @leni-ba prompted: Neal isn't that impressed with his father's girlfriend (until something changes his mind?) Chapter Summary:  After Belle leaves the pawnshop upset, Neal keeps his promise to Rumple to make things right. Rating: T     Word Count: 1,652 A/N: I didn’t intend for this to be a thing, but several readers asked for the interaction between Neal and Belle. Thanks to @capricornhunter for the push and to @magnoliatattoo, my awesome beta.

{ON AO3}

Night was falling fast as Neal shuffled across the street and slipped into the library, easing the door shut behind him with a soft thud.

This was his first time inside the Storybrooke Library and his heart hammered with dread. He clutched the crystal vase filled with flowers that he’d brought from the pawnshop, grateful for something to do with his hands. In general he wasn’t a fan of libraries—books reminded him too much of his father’s thick magical texts, plaguing him with nightmares of the pain and destruction the Dark One’s curse had wrought.

But this library seemed different—imbued with hopeful expectation. It had been closed when he had first arrived in town—shuttered, dusty, and abandoned. This evening it was welcoming, bright, and clean, its leather-bound tomes gleaming like jewels in the warm light. The library didn’t boast a large collection, but it was well-cared for, and he sensed that the librarian took pride in the space. Belle. Belle French was the librarian. He kept forgetting that important fact.

It didn’t seem possible, but then again, Belle French was a completely different person from Lacey—the floozy he’d seen hanging on his father’s arm a few days ago. Or was it weeks ago? Time ran differently in Neverland, and he’d not yet become accustomed to keeping time. He had completely lost track of the days in Storybrooke.

The cheerful space was empty and silent, except for the sound of sniffling. He rounded the corner and Belle came into view, her petite profile illuminated by the desk lamp behind her.

Man, she was a pitiful sight. Her slender shoulders were bowed and shaking as though they carried the weight of the world. The defeated stance made her five-foot-one-inch frame appear even more diminutive, if that were possible.  She blew her nose, the harsh, discordant sound reminding him of a foghorn, then crumpled the tissue in her small fist. She flung the tissue to the floor and stomped on it with one tall, pointy heel. Chin wobbling, she began transferring hardcover books from the circulation counter onto a library cart at a punishing pace. Belle slammed book after book onto the cart, causing the old wooden shelves to creak and moan with the pressure.

Despite her rough treatment of them now, Neal had the distinct feeling that Belle rarely treated a book with disrespect.

Clearly, she was upset.

Wearing a mutinous expression he’d often seen on Emma’s face, she turned toward the front door. He winced, preparing to be lambasted—yeah, he was half-hoping she would hurl insults and begin the conversation for him—but she but didn’t notice him standing between the entrance and the reference desk.

Neal raked a hand through his hair. Crap. This wasn’t going to be easy.

He pivoted toward the exit. If he slithered out now, she would be none the wiser. But as he took that first half-step back toward the street, all he could see were two pairs of eyes: his father’s—brown, sad and pleading, and Belle’s—blue, wet and wounded.

Neal sighed and turned back around. He’d told Papa he was coming to the library to patch things up with Belle and now he had to follow through. It was his responsibility to make this right.

“Hey Belle,” he croaked.

The book she was holding careened to the floor with a thump.

"Oh! Neal! It's…it’s you.” She rubbed her index fingers over both tear-stained cheeks, leaving smudges of black mascara in their wake, then bent down to pick up the fallen book.

The reminder that he was the cause of her tears made his stomach clench. You can do this. Just apologize and ask her to dinner with you and Pop. How hard can it be?

He inched forward to set the vase of flowers on the desk, then took a book from the pile and deposited it gently on the cart’s lower shelf. “Uh...I hope I'm not interrupting you.”

As soon as the words left his lips he felt stupid. Ten minutes earlier she’d overheard him telling his father that she was a terrible influence on him, an ugly stain on the Dark One’s already tarnished soul. Now she was alone in her library, crying and shelving books like a Valkyrie. It wasn’t like she was in the middle of a funding meeting.

She stood in silence, clutching a book to her middle, waiting for him to continue.

“I feel bad about what happened.” He swallowed thickly. “Pop was right, you should never have heard…those things.”

She tilted her head. “That’s what you’re going with?”

“Um…”

“Because it would have been perfectly reasonable to insult me if I hadn’t been present?” Her voice was crisp.

Crap. “No. No that’s not it.” He shook his head. “What I mean to say is I was wrong about you.”

“And what gave you that idea? That you were wrong?” She tossed the book she was holding at the cart and reached for another.

He frowned. “Could you maybe stop throwing books?”

“How about I aim the next one at your head?” She glared at him, holding a particularly large volume over her right shoulder.

“Ok, ok. It’s your library.” He held up his hands and chuckled nervously. Belle French was fierce. No wonder Papa was enamored with her. He’d only just met the woman, but she seemed to rival his father in stubbornness.

“You were about to explain why you were wrong,” Belle prompted.

“Well, now you’re…” At a loss, he gestured in the direction of her body, noting her modest blue blouse and pencil skirt.

Her eyes widened in comprehension. “Ah, I see. Because I look different.”

He gulped. It wasn’t a question.

“Not only that. It’s also…”

“I’m not proud of it, you know.” She bit down on her lower lip. “The things I said and did while I was…” She trailed off, casting her eyes toward the carpet.

“Lacey?”

She nodded, then glanced questioningly at the vase of cherry red chrysanthemums.

“From Papa,” he said, grateful to change the subject. Neal jerked his thumb back across the street to the pawnshop, where his father was probably pacing the floorboards. “He didn’t have a chance to give them to you.”

“That was sweet of him.” Belle’s eyes softened when he mentioned his father and her cheeks glowed with pleasure. The look on her face made him squirm and feel glad all at once. Belle loved Pop—that much was obvious.

“Yeah, but the Lacey thing wasn’t really your fault. Weren’t you, ya know? Cursed by Regina?”

Belle sighed and leaned against the circulation desk at her back, still not quite meeting his gaze. “That’s not an excuse for hurting people. Especially Rumple.”

He looked at her with new respect. “You take this heroism business pretty seriously, don’t you?”

She stiffened. “Why do you think that? Why does everyone think that? No, I take loving your father seriously. He counted on me to help him be a better man.” Her voice dropped to a miserable whisper. “I let him down. Abandoned him when he needed me most.”

“I don’t think you did, actually.”

Belle raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms. The posture was defensive, but her face hid nothing—it was bathed in longing. She wanted to believe him, to hear someone say that she hadn’t hurt his father. Neal stared in amazement. Belle French cared about his opinion? Damn, women were strange creatures.

“He says you loved him when no one else would. That you make him stronger,” her heard himself say.

“Rumple…he told you that?”

Her eyes filled with tears again and for a moment he panicked, but they were the happy kind. Learning to read Emma’s face had taught him the difference.

“When?” she choked out.

“About fifteen minutes ago.” He couldn’t stop his grin at her open-mouthed expression.

A watery laugh bubbled up from her throat and she bent her head over the vase of flowers to caress the petals with loving reverence. “He’s such a wonderful man. I’m the lucky one, you know.”

She looked straight at him then, all the love she felt for his father shining in her eyes. True love. Was that what others witnessed when he looked at Emma, at Henry? The passion in those bottomless depths was so powerful  that he caught his breath, forced to looked away as though he were intruding on a moment of great intimacy.

And then the truth hit him like a ton of books: Belle and Papa’s love wasn’t about him. The woman standing before him wasn’t a replacement or a substitute for a long-lost son. No, the answer was simpler, yet more profound—Pop needed Belle and she needed him.

He mulled over his thoughts in silence as tears slipped down Belle’s cheeks.

After a moment, Neal cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he plucked a tissue from the box on the table and handed it to her. It was the sort of thing Papa knew to do without thinking. Despite his outward appearance of coldness, Pop was always comforting the people he cared about. “I’m sorry Belle. For everything. And I’d like to get to know you. The real you.”

“Why?” she asked, dabbing at her eyes.

“You’re important to Papa.” He reached out and gave her shoulder a clumsy pat. “He loves you. And that makes you important to me too.”

“So what do you suggest?” She pressed her lips together and smoothed her hands over her skirt.

“Burgers at Granny’s? I haven’t had one yet, but reliable sources tell me they’re the best in town. Whaddaya think? We can pick Pop up on the way.” She smiled, the first genuine, happy smile he had seen cross her face since he’d met Belle French—the real one—on the docks that morning. “I’ll get my coat.”

###

Thanks for reading. Thoughts on an awkward Floof Family dinner at the diner?