#(I moved away from them 12 years ago and since moving back to my hometown I haven't been and honestly given their landlord and construction

[curiousorigins]

Btw Inkling is a fantastic word. It sounds fun and it's meaning and use is solid.

I have too many words I'm found of, in English and Italian to have a genuine ranking. But if I did, this would probably be in the top 100.

Ink-one of my favorite sound combos. (And mediums to work in although the medium shares zero etmology with this work. Their only relation being sound and spelling) and the sound Cling. I know it's uncommon to have favorite phonemes/syllable combos, but this one combo is just so fun on the tongue. It brings me joy. Inkling.

[sakuraryomen01]

Valentino /Sukuna Ryomen x Fem! Reader/ .11 [Slight Nsfw]

warnings: asshole sukuna, college prep. school (aka bitch u at an expensive ass school), former friends to lovers, slow burned love, yuji is sukuna's little brother, ec project with Nickolas the transfer student, drunk sukuna shows up at the dorm(!?), a small makeout session, some sexual touching and mentions of grinding/humping at readers thighs, caring for this stressed out man-slut, ooc sukuna.

reader: female reader; 23 years of age, college prep.

plot: It's been years since you've moved from country life, since you've forgotten about all the things you used to love about your hometown and where you grew up from... you didn't think it'd chase you to college in the city after almost a decade..

words: 5.036k

fanfic masterlist: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12 .13 .14 .15 .16 .17 .18 .19 .20

a/n: hey guys! sorry for the delay ^^ i've been wanting to get some chapters drafted before posting them! ty sm for the patience i hope u enjoy and r ready for the upcoming drama between sukuna and y/n!

a/n 2: so so sooooo sorry for being three days later after saying i'd be posting right away!!>< I was with family and the wifi was being iffy the last few days. I couldn't access many of my socials and much less work on the final draft of the chapter!! i powered thro until i was satified and it's finally here! i hope you enjoy!!

chapter/idea cred to: @misslauravillanueva i needed to give credit for the help! i was struggling on what to do!><

. . .

Thank you for reading this! Enjoy!

“Achoo!”

“Ah, are you alright?” Geto’s cool tone echoed from the kitchen, his brow raised with a curious expression written on his face. “Coming down with something? I told you to relax from studying for a while–”

“It’s not that!” You huff, cheeks burning with embarrassment. ”I just sneezed. I don’t know why though..”

“Okay, relax. I’m not gonna get upset.”

With a pout, you leaned against the armrest of the couch. Bowl of mac and cheese with little hot dogs in hand and a Coke on the coffee table. Eyes returning back to the TV screen and watching the current crime show playing, listening to the crimes that the murderer committed as he was handed a death sentence. 

Sometimes, when I let my mind wander to Sukuna.. It feels like that.

The idea that he’s now stuck on your mind despite all the anger he had towards you. The almost strange obsession and addiction to the idea of him. While you’ve been repetitively trying to control these new emotions and thoughts, you couldn’t help it. Seeing Sukuna that day in Ec class all those days ago. Having to tutor him. Even dealing with his weird smirks and teasing.

..That kiss too..

“Your face is doing that thing again, Y/n,” Geto’s voice chirped out of nowhere, causing you to jolt in your spot. “So jumpy over a guy? You know therapy exists, right?”

Returning a rather poorly chosen burn, Geto stood from his spot on the couch and waved a hand at you. Grabbing his things and his shoes from the carpet near the door, he sent you another telling look.

“If you're this upset, just ask what's up. Seriously, seeing you get stressed over this is kinda.. sad.”

There was a stabbing pain in your chest. You knew.

“Good night to you too, Suguru,” You hum, leaning on your fist as the door closed with a click. Leaving you alone in the dormitory for a few moments.

Your thoughts clouding your headspace until you decided to go to bed. Unable to understand this dreadful lil thing people called love, unable to understand why Sukuna Ryomen had crawled his way into your heart just by being an ass.

Tomorrow is another day.. Right?

. . .

“Today we'll be picking partners for class projects!”

Eh?? Ehhhhh????

You blinked a few times at the announcement, looking down towards Toji as students began to groan and complain a little. Quickly these were silenced as Toji lifted a stack of papers and chuckled deeply in his husky voice.

“It's not my problem, just get them done. You have two weeks to do it, so get your partners. The class is uneven so be ready for one of y'all's groups to have an extra person. It's a self-pick topic type of thing so start discussing today or tomorrow your topic and go with it!”

Toji tapped the papers on his desk and sat, letting his tie loose as he started relaxing for the rest of the period.

“If you need suggestions for your topic, there's a list in here along with your presentation requirements. I expect all names and correct citations with these as well.”

You let out a small groan and rub your temple. Not only were you stressed, now you had to deal with this? Extra shifts at work couldn't save you from this type of annoyance. It's not that you hated group projects, it's just a small tick when half of them throw the work onto you.

Pros and cons. Pros– none. Cons– work was usually tossed onto you.

You stood from your desk and began making your way down the steps to grab a paper. A strange chill ran up your spine as you passed Sukuna’s. Sparing a glance over, your cheeks warmed almost immediately.

Some bits of hair were pinned back and a pen rested on an ear. His shirt had a few buttons undone with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Black pants tight enough to have made a bakery spawn on the seat he sat upon. He looked really handsome, daring to battle even Toji’s good looks, and it was getting to you. 

What hit the nail in the coffin is when he just so happened to catch you ogling with your tongue practically hanging out of your mouth. His eyes sharpened at your expression as a smirk curled at the corners of his lips.

An almost playful yet teasing smile you weren't used to seeing on his face caught you off guard. It made your face hot, and your shame grow a few beats in that moment.

“Stop creeping” was basically what his face was saying.

Letting out a strained cough, you covered your face and made your way back up to your desk. Positive that his eyes had followed you all the way up the stairs before you sat in your spot. Hiding behind the paper and some random book you grabbed from your bag.

You couldn't be more obvious, could you?

While fellow students started to shift in their seats and partner up with friends and just random buddies from in the room, Sukuna was swarmed with a small audience of girls as he stood from his seat to also fetch a paper. The guys that sat around him gave him annoyed side-eyes and snorts as he absorbed the attention from all the women in the room. 

“Sukuna, do you wanna partner with me?” One asked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and letting the blush on her cheeks show.

“Me too, we could all do it together!” Another spoke up, poking her button nose into their conversation. Her bright green eyes staring up at Sukuna with a needy gleam.

It makes you confused to an extent, making you press your brows together as you look to the side. Sukuna probably thought that's what you looked like every time you saw him. It makes your heart ache and head throb, another grand headache to your already upsetting day.

Just let your mind be normal for once in your life.

You begin to gather your things and part from the room, the hustle and bustle of the classroom quietly fading into the background. Letting out a relaxed sigh as the sight of your bed creeped into the corners of your mind– oh, how you wished to be relaxing in bed with your favorite stuffy.

“Hello, miss? Would you like to be my partner for the project?” A voice suddenly called from behind you, somewhat echoing throughout the quiet hallways. It startled you since you didn’t expect anyone to follow you out of the classroom asking such a thing, it piqued your interest.

Lifting your head, you come face to face with someone you didn’t know.

His dark hair was up in a bun with his undercut showing behind his pierced ears, a kind smile flashing behind yet another piercing on his lip. Tanned skin that seemed to glow like it was pampered with the best beauty products around, not a scar or pimple in sight. Cute dimples at the corners of his lips adding to his boyish charm while his honey eyes gleamed at you. It reminded you of Yuji in a sense, but this was not Yuji.

You’ve never seen this guy before– a really cute one at that.

“Hello,” you say, momentarily stunned at the stranger, letting your hand weakly wave. “Uhm, partner?”

There was an adorable chuckle that furthered your stunned silence before you heard a response. “Yes, I saw you walk out here alone and thought you might need one.”

You take in a deep breath, regaining your composure quickly and patting yourself down. “Ah, right. I actually don’t like having a partner, my past experiences have led me to conclude that they’re not the best option for a project. Besides, I’m a big girl, I can handle one on my own.”

“I can see why,” He starts, looking back at the classroom with the still clamoring students before returning his attention to you. “That horde in there was after one guy, they don’t care about this project. I was actually about to do the same as you when I saw my choices were so low.”

Rubbing a big calloused hand over his nape, the strangers’ almond eyes looked from the empty halls and to you, his smile sheepish. “Please? Don’t make me beg now.”

There was a small silence between you and the stranger as you considered walking off and letting him go with his original plan before the Economics class erupted with whines as Sukuna and a girl walked from inside. The color left your cheeks, seeing the girl’s arm wrapped tightly around Sukuna’s. Looking as if he was protecting her from the growing crowd of the class, engaging in an active conversation as they walked on by.

Your heart sank sharply, seeing Sukuna letting someone else into his circle. He used to be so cold, so annoyed with people when he was younger. Only letting you really hold him that close, giving you nuzzles of appreciation since he didn’t like to say it aloud.

Now, he gives you the cold shoulder and holds others that aren’t you close.

Without letting your head finish its last thought and your eyes still trained on the back of Sukuna’s head, you gave a nod and looked back at the stranger. “Sure. I’m Y/n L/n, by the way.”

“Really? That’s great!” He smiled, the warmth of his company lightening your mood sufficiently more than it was a few moments ago. “My name’s Nickolas Alveres, it’s nice to meet you, L/n.”

The both of you share a smile for a second before Nickolas nods down the hall, motioning for the both of you to head to your next classes. He doesn’t wait for you to join him, but you do anyway. Trying to make small talk with him as you try to get to know your partner, letting the smile on your lips stick.

While you wore a smile, someone else had a frown. A deep scowl, if you will. You didn’t feel it, but Sukuna’s partner saw it.

She raised a brow, cheeks tinted a slight color as she cast her gaze in the same direction. Seeing you close to another man, only escalating the befuddlement.

“What’s wrong, Sukuna?”

A disgruntled look was plastered all over said man’s face, his frown so prominent it was a waste of time to even attempt to hide it. A chasm of wrinkles forming on his forehead as his brows pressed together at the sight before him. Watching the way you and some kid walked side by side with a smile on your face, not a care in the world.

When did you get so chummy?

“It’s nothing.. Let’s go, Haru,” He said, not sparing a second to look back at you. With a huff, he pulled his work partner, Haru, with him to the nearby library to find a good subject for this project.

It’s what he wanted anyways.. right?

. . .

“Wait, wait.. He punched Gojo in the face?!” Nickolas laughed, holding his cup up to his lips quickly to cover his giggles and chuckles. His nose crinkled up as they continued despite his obvious resistance. “He must’ve been drunk too to get so defensive!! I thought he was just a jerk most of the time.”

“Usually he is,” You start, crossing your legs under the coffee table. Looking over some of the notebooks the both of you had sprawled out onto the wood to look for any good topics to talk about in the presentation. Quickly, you scribbled out one, taking a sip from your cup and looking back up to Nickolas. “Recently though, he’s been alright. Not as mean as he used to be, but not one-hundred percent rude and annoying.”

A calm silence filled the air as Nickolas rested his work in his lap, taking a moment to look from them to you. “Speaking of, how long have you known this guy? You talk about him like he’s an old friend.”

The corner of your lips twitch upwards for a short second before you let your face relax. “He was. Not really interested in joining forces again recently.”

Nickolas nodded his head in understanding, eyes glazing over somewhat on what response to give. Seeing that the idea of this guy somehow hurt you, it got him concerned. Why bother letting him get to you so deeply if this is the result? It doesn’t make sense.

“Don’t let it get to you too much, Y/n,” He mustered after a short silence, placing his cup on the coffee table and letting his ring tap against the plastic. “If he’s still letting you be this close, even helping you care for a friend, that’s gotta be something.”

You nod numbly, knowing the obvious has been said too many times. Talk to him, ask him how he’s doing about the relationship, what does he want from you? The same three things that you always wanted to say when you were with him, but how. Other than tutoring, other than being near each other in class, you and Sukuna spent little to no time together.

All you remember about him is that he was the tough kid in school with home problems that liked to play tag and hide and seek. That he scared you with bugs and frogs while at the lake or near the Willow tree. The fond memories you shared with him couldn’t be the only factor that you had to use to judge what you wanted, you had to be around him more.

How was going to be the hardest puzzle to solve.

“Oh well,” Nickolas yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “It’s about time i get headed to my dorm. I have an early class tomorrow. I’ll leave you my number so that we can plan meetings for the project!”

Jokes and laughter filled the room as you and your partner exchanged information when there was a loud commotion at the door. You glanced from Nickolas to the dorm door and let out a light hearted chuckle, waving your hands next to your head.

“Ah, I’ll go get that! Gather your things, okay?”

Nickolas nodded and turned to his open binder and mess of notebook paper splayed on the coffee table, humming to himself as you rushed over to the front door. Hair stood at attention when you opened that door, seeing a messed up man laying on the hallway floor. A big wine bottle squeezed tightly in his right hand, the other placed next to his head on the floor.

His voice came out in gentle hums of some random rock song, lyrics jumping out from his mouth every second or so in a drunken daze. His fluffy hair was messy and almost unrecognizable until you realized who it was.

It was Sukuna.

“Wh.. What are you doing here?” You shout, shocked at his arrival, but there was not really a response. Only his hand raising to wave his finger around to the hum of his song. “Sukuna, answer me!!”

“..rather be.. Than lonely..”

Letting out a sigh, you look back at Nickolas and see his confused face staring at the gap between you and the door down at Sukuna. He stood there ready to go with his bag strap on his shoulder and keys in hand, giving you quick glances for some semblance of an answer. You give a small shrug, looking back to the immobile man on the ground.

Gently, you kick at one of his legs to try and get something out of him. “Sukuna, get up!”

Not a single thing, just a grunt and a tussle before your eyes finally connect with glazed ones. Maroon pools that were foggy beyond belief, not having a thought behind them. Nickolas tilts his head to the side and shakes it, giving you a pat on the arm and a sheepish smile.

“I'll get out of your hair, Y/n. Good luck!”

You step out of the man’s way, looking down at the disgruntled Sukuna and give a weak chuckle. Parting ways with Nickolas for the evening and kneeling down to Sukuna and shaking his shoulder. “Sukuna, you’ll get sick, get up.”

“..Doesn’t matter,” Sukuna mumbled, closing his eyes and taking a sip of his drink. “F’m sick, I’ll just be sick..”

“It does matter, now get up.”

You did your best to pull Sukuna up by his arm and into a sitting position, hooking the limp appendage over your shoulder and lifting him up onto his feet. It was a struggle since Sukuna was so heavy, but you managed. The stench of alcohol reeked from his breath and shirt, mixes of dirt and some stains that you didn’t feel the need to ask where they came from. 

Stumbling into your dormitory you freed the near empty beer bottle from Sukuna’s grasp and pulled the door close. He wasn’t giving much fight– probably due to the amount he drank– and just leaned his weight onto you. Mumbling to himself about things you weren’t going to pressure him into answering. Still, it made you wonder.

What the hell drove him to come to my place?

Surely, he wouldn’t mind answering that.

With a huff to your lips you plopped Sukuna’s heavy ass onto the couch and folded your arms. The beer bottle in your hand swirling around as you rotate your wrist ever so slightly, brow raising at Sukuna’s nearly asleep form. It was odd to see the big, strong and mean Sukuna Ryomen on his last leg from intoxication. 

Despite this, you found it cute.

“I’ll go get you some water and maybe a change of clothes,” You announce, tilting your head to see if that gauges a reaction. Sadly there was nothing but a huff and some finger taps on the couch’s cushions. Letting your arms fall to your side, you grunt and place the beer on the table. “Whatever, I’ll be right back.”

You grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and some extra sheets from your bedroom before making your way back into the living room to Sukuna. A fresh set of clothing was provided, thanks to Geto’s many late night bang sessions with Shoko, and some cooling pads were placed next to Sukuna on the couch. He didn’t do much but glance at the items, turning his face away in– what you assumed– was a quiet protest.

Sukuna never acted this petty and spoiled before. What’s gotten into him?

“Let’s get you changed, yeah?” Gently, you press your hands to his chest, earning a reaffirming nod and proceeding to undo the buttons of his collared shirt. 

It was strange to be in this position. On your knees, undressing the man you’ve pinned for for so long, only to be seeing this messy and unkempt side you didn’t like to imagine him being. The feelings in your chest that you wanted to put away were making your heart race once more, every glance you got to see from the mess you called Sukuna.

His hair made him resemble his brother more than anything else now, hanging over his sweaty forehead and tattoo. Arms hanging loosely at his sides, man spreading for all of the world to see. Shamefully, you enjoyed the calm attention. Even though it was unsightly, you liked getting to touch all over Sukuna’s body.

“There,” You mumble to yourself, having officially released Sukuna from his shirt. “N-Now, onto your..”

Trailing off, you look down at Sukuna’s pants. Swallowing thickly at the idea of pulling off his trousers, you took a deep breath. I’m never going to live this shame down!

Gently, you began to undo his belt. You face burning ever more as the air began to tense, wishing that anyone but you would be this bashful over something so silly. Still, regret hit you harder than the embarrassment or shame ever could.

Sukuna was watching you. Watching your hands slip the belt loose, pulling his button undone and pulling at his waistband. You tugged, unable to yank them down and free his lower half.

“Sukuna.. Can you lift your hips?” You ask in a soft voice, startled by the quick response. But what was it really, he was watching your every move. You felt like you were being examined in some office and not helping Sukuna undress. “Thank you.”

“Mm.”

Making haste of the situation, you pulled down the fabric of his trousers and grabbed the loose shorts you had found from earlier. Ignoring all thoughts of Sukuna and how perfect his legs looked, the thick black bands of his tattoos on the fat of his thigh. The way the bulge in his briefs was much a cause for distraction, even denying that it twitched once freed from it’s confines.

Yep, never happened.

“There, all better,” You sigh, satisfied. “Now that your ready for bed, I’m going to do the same.”

It took a few minutes, but you had completely reclothed Sukuna and he now looked more sleepy and ready for bed rather than drunk off his ass and about to black out on the couch. You had struggled to even get him to take a sip of water and sober up, but to no avail. You figured you’d have to try again tomorrow morning and explain the situation once he woke up in a confused fit.

Getting him comfortable on the couch too was another ordeal you didn’t think you’d go through, but you did. Tucking in the large male until he was all cozy and warm, safely resting his head on one of your spare pillows.

“I’ll see ya in the morning, Ryo,” You mumble, letting your mind wander for a moment and tracing the outline of one of his tattoos on his bicep. Feeling the muscle twitch under your touch momentarily.

“Mgh,” Sukuna muffled out, cheeks warm to the touch.

Letting out another sigh, you stand from your spot next to the couch. Only to be pulled back towards the culprit at hand, falling ass first next to his lap. Sukuna didn’t make a sound, just grasped onto your hips and pulled you in for a hug. His arms anchored around your lower stomach, pressing into the arch of your spine and forcing you to press against him as well.

His nose was pressed into the crook of your shoulder, but you continued to crusade for answers from the sudden affection. “AGH! Sukuna, that was highly uncalled for!! What the hell do you think you’re doing?! Answer me, dammit–!!”

“Who was that guy?”

You flinch, caught off guard. The clarity and conviction in Sukuna’s voice was strange, seeing as he had been stumbling and leaning into you for the last few moments. “Uhm, my Economics partner Nickolas. It shouldn’t matter, you need to sleep!”

“I don’t need sleep,” Sukuna grunts out, lifting himself off of the couch and trapping you underneath him. Using his big arms like a cage, eyes locking you in place with a vice on your heart. “What was he doin’ hanging here?”

“Sukuna, this is childish,” You start, ready to defend yourself for a confrontation. “He’s my class partner, you shouldn’t be upset over it.”

Wait.. why was he upset?

Previously, he had never seemed to give a flying fuck what you did or whom you did it with. What’s with the sudden change of heart? It made yours ache at the possibilities, wondering what could it be that made him so hostile all of the sudden over Nickolas.

“I barely know him anyways..”

“And you let him sit here on this couch?”

There was a small slap sound as skin met skin, Sukuna’s palm and fingers grasping your chin and cheeks. A gentle but firm squeeze sent shivers down your spine, your hand reaching up to try and pull Sukuna’s off but to no avail. His eyes scanned your face for anything, a sign.

Something. Anything that would make this ache in his chest stop.

“What is he to you, huh?” His voice came out rough, deep. Intimidating. 

It was scary, but a shudder was sent up your spine. A lustful and unneeded shudder, one that sent ideas to your brain. That made your mind wander, but you held them back. 

Even as Sukuna’s lips captured yours, as his teeth grazed and nibbled at your lower lip, your hands reached up to tangle themselves in his pink locks. You had to deny, because the Sukuna that was here wasn’t really him. It was a drunk and dissociated version of him, a side that you normally didn’t see. 

A side that he probably didn’t like showing.

“Did you let him do this, mh?” Sukuna muttered, pulling away from your mouth. A string of saliva connecting the both of you for a moment as your lungs fought for breath. Chest rising and falling heavily, your hands hold onto Sukuna’s arms, trying to find something to stabilize yourself in this mess of kisses.

“N-No, we just.. Talked about class–”

“Talked? About class? Me? You?”

Sukuna retreated his touch from your face and instead placed them on your thighs. Laying beside you on the couch, keeping you trapped against his chest and making sure to dress the blankets over you.

“Sukuna, seriously, this isn’t funny anymore,” You whimper, covering your face. How could you push this away? You’ve wanted nothing but to be closer to him, haven’t you?

Desired, pleaded. You wanted everything.. But this wasn’t the way.

Feeling Sukuna’s hands wrap around your waist, having his hot breath on your neck and shoulder as he rutted his hips against the fat of your ass. You felt utterly guilty, like trash. Wanting to crawl away from Sukuna and save him the little grace he had, to avoid giving him something to wake up and regret tomorrow.

“Y/n.. look at me.. Look at what you’ve done,” The man in question ordered, hooking your top leg over his elbow. Letting the bulge in his pants grow more and more, his voice becoming ragged and deep as he got harder and harder. “You’re making a mess of me, can’t you tell?”

You nod, wanting to pull away and sleep in your bed. But the desires in you only wanted you to fall deeper. The strings of your heart being plucked as Sukuna’s lips found the sensitive skin of your neck. Marking and sucking, lewd sucking sounds erupting from his lips as he made harsh hickeys form on the skin.

Mewl after moan escaped you, your pussy wet and slick under the confines of your panties and pajama bottoms. Sukuna could tell, releasing your leg from his hold and slowing his hips for a moment until his hand migrated to your front.

Grinding the flat surface of his palm against your clothed cunt, whispering naughty words into your ear that you had to drown out. Even if the wants in your belly wished for Sukuna to be there, to fill up your insides and make a mess. To be closer than he’s ever let you been for the last month or so, you had to stop this.

And you did, with much regret.

“Sukuna, stop,” You whimper, pulling Sukuna’s hand away from your body. Breaths coming out in baited huffs, you sat up. Not taking a moment to let yourself get lured back in, feeling Sukuna’s hand find your waist again as you resisted further.

“Stop what?” He mutters, annoyance in his voice. Laced with an emotion you wished to unhear. “Didn’t you want this too?”

“Not like this.” Cold, respectful. You had to be this way, to give Sukuna another chance. Letting him have his way now in such a drunken state, you wouldn’t be able to recover a good relationship. “If I was like anyone else, you’d be taken advantage of.”

Sukuna’s touch softened, his glazed eyes clearing for a moment as he looked at the back of your head. Seeing a shimmer of something on your cheek, his fingers trembled. He desired to reach up, to brush those tears away. It was against his very nature, his very being.

He didn’t like the idea of being all cuddly and cozy, being soft and vulnerable with someone. The idea of it made his stomach churn and made the urge to vomit impending. 

But, with you. Seeing those tears form, for his sake. He felt irritated with himself. He caused it. Him.

“I’m going to bed now,” You say, voice shaken up. “Get some water, sleep.”

You stood from your place on the sofa and walked over to the small hallway, entering your bedroom and letting out a shuddering exhale. A weight was now firmly sitting on your chest. It ached, it hurt, it burned.

Everything that pain felt like was exploding in your chest. Reaching up a hand to try and comfort yourself wasn’t worth the effort either as you slid down the wood of your bedroom door. Curling into a feeble position as the tears fell from your eyes, finally free after holding them the whole time.

What you wished you could do about the man on your couch.

. . .

a/n: y'all i literally have a crippling addiction to crime videos and all that shit it's just so interesting for no reason oml (crying inside) also sorry for the month long pause (i say sorry too much) i was creating new characters and working on ideas for the next few chapters!

Chapter Song Them: — Granite - Sleep Token (Lyrics)

taglist: @mageyboo, @mzladyd , @mysticwonderlandangel, @sukunaspersonalfleshlight, @kawaiipenguin20, @k-indie, @okkotsufav, @cafeinthemoon93, @pulchritxde, @bontenbunny, @deepinballs, @kleebloomed, @fiierytearzx, @wo-ming-bai, @instantgalaxysheep, @watyousayin, @z3r0art, @sukunaobsessed, @lik0, @sukunasfirstlove, @princesstiti14, @nemoyr, @ladywolf44005, @cat-mak20, @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn, @hxlalokidottir, @domainofmarie, @the-moongoddess, @dark-n-dirty-duchess, @agentdedf1sh, @sukunastoy, @lyn-soso, @bao-yu-sarah-morningstar-wang-9, @heyitstacy, @lost-in-tokyo, @marksassybanana, @bozos-r-us , @p-3-4-c-h, @chaoticqueen33, @dxxny-loves-u, @l0tus-in-l0ve , @jiordeci, @opossum0-0, @gumisgirl, @mommasbigd, @heyitstacy, @misslauravillanueva, @fallenlostarchives, @infinitivesearch

last chapter || next chapter

[she-karev]

Fall in Boston (Japril Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Jackson Avery x April Kepner

AN: Happy Fall y’all! I decided to do fall themes for our favorite ships right here starting with Japril. Like and reblog below and let me know what you think.

Summary: Jackson and April spend the day in the park with their daughter Harriet during their first fall in Boston as a family.

Words: 1340

September 25, 2020

“Mommy, daddy can we go to the swings?!”

Harriet implores her parents in front of them who look at the swing set in the children’s playground. It was Jackson and April’s day off, so they decided to spend the day with Harriet exploring Boston Common Park.

The small family moved to Boston three months ago when Jackson decided to quit his job at Grey Sloan and run the foundation from his hometown. At first April was skeptical of this radical change and worried they would upend Harriet for no reason. However, Jackson convinced her this wasn’t impulsive instead it was the second time he was completely sure of what he wanted. The first time was when he got back together with April.

Although she was still slightly reluctant, April supported her husband and followed him with Harriet not wanting to be away from him after so many years apart. Since then, she was glad they did this feeling the same calling that Jackson felt.

The foundation has helped her establish a free clinic open for homeless communities and people who can’t afford healthcare. April has even reached out to Arizona about building a program offering free annual exams, birth control, and prenatal care for low-income women.

Also, in terms of her personal life she, Jackson and Harriet are better than ever. April thinks that getting away from Seattle and starting fresh somewhere else was just what their relationship needed to kickstart into the blissful, normal family dynamic she has wanted with him since they married. And Harriet loves Boston just like Jackson did growing up with the parks being her favorite part of this city.

April smiles at her excited daughter, “Sure Ladybug but first we gotta clean it, let’s go!”

Jackson and April lead Harriet to the swings where April pulls out sanitized wipes from her purse and starts wiping the seat attacked to chains. She is vigorous in her technique wiping the swing strongly like she is rubbing the germs to death. Jackson lifts Harriet up in his arms imitating a rocket that makes her giggle before putting her inside the blue seat.

“Push daddy!”

“What do you say honey?” Jackson asks with a smile.

“Please push daddy!” Harriet repeats politely to April’s joy smiling at her daughter taking her please and thank you lessons to heart. She wants Harriet to be just as kind as she is smart so she can succeed in life like the rest of her family.

“Very good let’s go sky high.” Jackson starts to push Harriet causing her to giggle as she swings forward with her parents behind her. While he pushes her Harriet looks around them being enthralled by the scenic beauty that has come this autumn.

Fall officially started three days ago and since then the leaves on the trees have changed from green to orange. It’s the kind of scene she grew up in except there were less skyscrapers around her. But even the tall buildings can’t diminish the amazing sight that comes from the seasons changing.

“Fall is the most beautiful time of the year.” Jackson confesses to April who turns to find him grinning at her awestruck expression, “It’s not too hot, it’s not too cold, the leaves change, it’s perfect in every way. Also you get to dogpile on mountains of leaves that are raked up in your front lawn, that was my favorite part.”

April grins at this, “Well maybe it can be Harriet’s favorite thing too, that’s the beauty of buying a house with an actual lawn. My favorite thing about fall is the pumpkin spice lattes that are deeply appreciated in such a short time.” April sips her fall themed latte that they picked up on their way to the park.

Jackson chuckles knowing about April’s sweet tooth, “It’s the one time you will buy high priced coffees.”

“Hey, don’t knock it till you try it. I can’t make it nearly as good as the underappreciated barista behind the counter. Also, it’s the perfect season to binge on Gilmore Girl’s, it’s the best comfort show that makes you appreciate Fall.”

Jackson keeps pushing Harriet, “Well I’ve never seen it so I wouldn’t know.” April frowns at this and her eyes bug out like she heard him confessing a murder to his amusement, “What?”

“You have never seen Gilmore Girls?” April asks not able to comprehend this atrocity, “My schedule is the same as yours and I binge the four seasons like their a lifeline because they are when the leaves turn orange. I mean if we were married longer, you would know what I mean.”

Jackson narrows his eyes confused, “I thought there were like 10 seasons of that show, but you said 4, why?”

“There are seven seasons, and I binged all of them, but Rory’s character took a nosedive once she went to college. Seasons 1-4 are where I’m convinced the show begins and ends.”

Jackson laughs at that, “See that is where Breaking Bad is different. There’s no best season or worst season, it’s just great in every way imaginable.”

April groans, “Not this again. I thought we agreed you would stop trying to get me to watch that show with you. You know that sad shows make me sad too.”

“I do but we never shook on it so I will keep persisting.” April rolls her eyes at him, “Most of my friends are back in Seattle and Harriet isn’t old enough to watch it, you’re my only option for a binging buddy.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so special.” April sarcastically jokes with a smile watching their daughter who is smiling as she reaches the sky in her swing.

Jackson gets an idea in his head that makes him smile, “How about this for a covid safe date night? I will give this Gilmore Girls show of yours a chance if you give Breaking Bad the same treatment right after. I think it’s a fair deal and you get to watch the greatest show of all time at last. What do you say?”

April chuckles at this but feels compelled to it if only to introduce her love to her favorite comfort show, “Deal but I get to pick the snacks.”

“As long as I get to choose the drinks.” April nods, “Awesome it’s a date then.” The parents keep pushing their daughter who is laughing and enjoying this quality time together.

That Night

‘I want a weekly dinner.’

Jackson and April are curled up on the couch in the tv room watching Gilmore Girls halfway in the pilot when Lorelai visits her parents to ask for money for Rory’s tuition. While they watch the girly show there is a bowl of caramel popcorn in April’s hands that Jackson has easy access to as she is comfortably in his arms. Jackson notes that she added Rolos and M&M’s into the mix that makes it sweeter.

“I’m guessing Lorelai’s got as much rich parents’ problems as me?” Jackson asks intrigued.

April grins at the similarity, “Except for the political alignments, the dad sticking around and the getting pregnant at 16 yeah the Avery and Gilmore clans are one and the same. Are you liking it so far?”

“It’s okay.” Jackson takes popcorn for himself, “I’m not a sitcom guy but I can see why you like it. Although it could be a little slower, the fast-paced dialogue is confusing me.”

“It’s what makes it so good.” April smiles at her husband, “Your able to catch up on fast pace surgical steps but not with a girly show that says a lot about you.”

“Thanks babe.” Jackson says with a chuckle. April grabs a Rolo from her bowl, offers it to Jackson who opens his mouth allowing her to feed the chocolate to him. They smile at succumbing to the feeding your partner cliché but enjoy it as they continue watching the show that makes them appreciate autumn more as well as date night and each other.

[winter-dayz]

Reunited

Pairing: Kai Huening x Reader Childhood Neighbor AU Genre: Fluff Words: 943

Masterlist | 12 Days of Ficmas Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

Y/N gazed out of the frosted windows of her childhood home. As she stood in the warmth of the house, staring out at the wonderland outside, her breath created small clouds against the cold glass. When she had arrived at her old home, the air was filled with the scent of pine, and the soft glow of Christmas lights illuminated the snow-covered streets. Despite it being Y/N’s favorite time of year, something else was on her mind.

She watched snowflakes drift from the dark, night sky as memories flitted through her mind. She couldn’t help but think of the boy she grew up with, Kai. Her family and the Huening’s had been incredibly close, and she and Kai had been very nearly inseparable.

However, a few years ago, she came home to learn that the family she’d grown to know and love had moved away. Now, the house next door was dark; the lights inside were off and no Christmas decorations were lit up outside.

It made her heart ache a bit, but, for some reason, this year she felt hopeful that she might finally see him again.

🎄

She walked through the slippery streets, admiring the blankets of snow covering the ground while doing her best to avoid the patches of slick black ice. Bundled in her warmest coat, face buried in her favorite scarf, she couldn’t seem to shake the feeling of eyes on her.

The sensation brought a sense of paranoia so she ducked into a nearby coffee shop to escape the feeling and the chill. The barista greeted her with her usual cheer, and the aroma of fresh coffee and sweets nipped at her senses. The feeling of being watched heightened, and as she glanced around, a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Y/N?”

Her heart skipped a beat and she slowly turned to face the boy she remembered all those years ago. Kai’s eyes widened, taking her in and mirroring her own astonishment.

“It really is you…” He breathed out, surprised and happy to see the girl he couldn’t forget after all this time.

“Kai! It’s been so long.” She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly as a smile donned her face. When they both pulled away, they continued to examine one another. Kai still had his boyish charm from childhood, but he also had quite a handsome edge to him now.

He invited her to his table and offered to order for her, which she gratefully accepted. He still seemed to know her favorites despite how much time had passed.

They exchanged stories of what they’d missed out on in each other’s lives, eagerly listening and chiming in. Kai explained that he’d moved back to their hometown for career purposes, and Y/N revealed that she had begun settling down in the town over as an effort to stay close to family. The timing seemed almost too good to be true.

Minutes turned into hours as they caught up and reminisced. It was easy to lose track of time between them.

“Oh my gosh, it’s already midnight.” She blinked in shock at her phone.

“Then… Merry Christmas.” He smiled softly at her, eyes filled with affection for the girl he grew up with.

“Merry Christmas, Hyuka.” She responded, smiling brightly. Kai felt his heart skip a beat at both her smile and the nickname he hadn’t heard in years.

“Hyuka? No one calls me that anymore.” His voice sounded softer, but Y/N suddenly wondered if she offended him.

“Oh– sorry, it just kinda came back–”

“No, no, don’t apologize. I missed it. And you.”

🎄

The snow had intensified since they’d been inside. Kai had offered to walk her home, which is how she discovered he actually was renting his childhood home now. The streets were festive with lights and decor, windows painted with cartoons and fake snow.

When they reached the point between their homes, neither of them wanted to part, but both were too nervous to offer an invite to the other. Eventually, goodbyes were said, and Y/N began to return to her parents’ home. Before she could get too far, a warm hand circled around her wrist.

“Wait…” Y/N turned back to face him, cheeks pink, but waiting patiently. “I– I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all these years. And I was too nervous back then, but I can’t risk not saying anything again.” Y/N’s heart pounded in her chest and her throat tightened at his words. 

“I did move back here because of work, but I was also searching for the feeling I had when I used to live here… But it wasn’t until I saw you inside the coffee shop that I realized I was looking for home. Being with you feels like home,” he explained.

As the words sunk in, Y/N felt her entire body fill with a fuzzy warmth. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and her face suddenly felt flushed. Lost in the moment, the next thing she knew lips were pressed against her own.

Time seemed to stand still as Kai’s lips melted against hers, a shiver working its way down both their spines. Nothing had ever felt so perfectly right.

As Kai pulled back, clouds of breath mingling in the air between them, Y/N found herself surging back in. Her hands clutched at the fabric of his coat. Finally, she separated from him, enjoying his presence and the beauty of the snow falling around them. The street lights casted a soft glow across them.

Christmas would always be their favorite time of year.

[icepixie]

20 questions for fic writers

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

158 (22 of these are fanvids)

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count?

430,454

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Many. The top 5, per AO3, are Babylon 5, due South, Stargate SG-1, Farscape, and Northern Exposure. The most recent have been Strange New Worlds, China Beach, BBC Ghosts, Enterprise, and DS9. (Though to be fair, DS9 is an old fandom I started writing in again, and China Beach has been a mainstay since ~2014. Farscape...uhhh, oh, wow, I last published something for that in 2003.)

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I'm adjusting for the fact that the Agent Carter fics have by far the most kudos simply because it's the one large fandom I've written in. I'll count one of them and then go to the next-most-kudosed.

Necessary (Agent Carter; for once in her life, Peggy needs Jack for something)

Moves in the Field (The Cutting Edge; Yuletide fic where Doug and Kate visit Doug's brother and hometown)

Closing the Circuit (Enterprise; Baby Elizabeth lives and Trip and T'Pol spend their first night as parents)

Imperfect Recall (Strange New Worlds; Una and Chris recall his invitation to spend shore leave together 20 years ago very differently)

My Late Enchantments Still in Brilliant Colors Shine (Babylon 5; Susan Ivanova runs into a technomage)

5. Do you respond to comments?

98% of the time. Occasionally if it's a busy week they get away from me.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Either The Snow Maiden (Susan Ivanova childhood angst) or If Equal Affection Cannot Be (Marcus Cole, death and poetry) or Amo, Amas, I Love a Lass (more Marcus death and pining). Babylon 5 is the only fandom I've ever really gone angsty in.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Like...most of them? I'm not much for angst. I guess A Way to Walk on Water and Not Drown ended with the big theatrical happily ever after business...

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I feel like I got some sort of weird LJ comment once, but I barely remember it and it may have been more spam than anything.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Love me a good crossover. I don't write them often because doing them right requires a lot of thought, but they're very fun to do. I've written the most for due South, and the conceit of "Fraser and Thatcher come to New Burbage for Shakespeare-related reasons" has worked well for me. I also quite like the Wonderfalls/Fringe crossover I did back when Peter was missing...I felt like I had a cool idea I followed through on, and the canons meshed better than one might expect at first.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? 

I vaguely recall someone asking permission to translate something into Russian once.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

When I was 13 or so, with a RL friend, we wrote several hamfistedly shippy DS9 and Voyager fics together over the (landline) phone.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

AO3 says it's Fraser/Thatcher (due South) with Ivanova/Garibaldi (B5) a very close second, which seems about right. I'm also extremely fond of Maggie/Joel (NX) and McMurphy/Richard (China Beach).

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I'd love to finish the "Ivanova and Garibaldi try to honeymoon on Earth and get swept into defying a political plot against the president" fic I started years ago, but it always seems to require more plot than I want to deal with.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue. I can't write it unless I can hear it in the character's voice in my head, and it seems to serve well for accurate characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot. Plot plot plot plot plot. I just want to write characters vibing with each other, not have them do things!

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it a couple times. Most of it was Russian, for the skating RPF, and for that I just googled a lot and apologized for any errors in the notes. I think it adds some flavor, and unless you're doing something really specific you're probably framing it so someone with no knowledge of the language can get the gist, so even if you've gotten it wrong it doesn't matter that much.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

It was either DS9 or Voyager. I would say I deleted all the evidence, but alas, usenet is forever.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

The Future an Affirmation (China Beach; the AU where McMurphy and Richard get married and we follow them for the next 25 years. Except backwards, because I very much enjoyed writing it like that. I feel like I effectively packed all my thoughts and feelings about McMurphy into that fic and did justice to what she would have done and been had these circumstances played out.)

I have a lot of honorable mentions, but maybe the most honorable is Out of the Ashes, a Northern Exposure fic where Maggie resorts to staying with Joel after her mother burns her house down. I got a fair number of "this reads just like an episode" comments, which I was quite proud of.

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[whitehotharlots]

A true story about rehab from 2007

Names and places changed, dates slightly fuzzy, yada yada

This all starts with Chris.  Chris might be a good example of how things are objectively broken.

Two summers ago, Chris and his girlfriend moved from everyone's old hometown, Alton, to everyone's current home, Garden City.  I had known Chris briefly when I still lived in Alton, which was up until about 8 years ago.  In high school he was friends with my sister, a year behind her, I think, only he had some legal trouble and didn't graduate until two years after her.  The first arrest came during his junior year, when police found some marijuana in his car while he was in class.  "Apparently Alton is a utopia," he said years later.  "No robberies need solving, no cars need ticketing, no fences need mending, fuckit nobody's house must've been dirty because if there was anything else even remotely worthwhile that those cocksuckers could have been doing they wouldn't have taken a drug dog through the high school parking lot."  

The ironic part was that he was, honest-to-god, holding it for a friend.  Hadn't touched the stuff until then, hadn't even drank more than a beer or two.  Cops came in and pulled him out of class.  Cuffed him right there in class, in front of everybody.   From what I've been able to piece together that marked a very strong loss of innocence for young Chris.  No rules were worth following, after all, if The Bastards could punish you for nothing.  This was greatly exacerbated by the fact that, according to several of the best lawyers Alton had to offer, the search of Chris' car was unconstitutional as it was not actually parked in the school parking lot, or even on school grounds, at the time of the search.  The juvenile court judge would hear none of it though—all the police had done was break Chris' constitutional right to privacy.  He had committed the much greater crime of having an eighth ounce of marijuana in his glove compartment. 

His claim of having his rights violated incensed the judge, who sentenced our poor Chris to 72 hours in county jail and 12 weeks of rehab.  Were it not for his successful, stable family, he would have been sent to juvie. 

It was his first offense.  He was 16. 

Jail, he said, wasn't that bad.  He got to do it over a weekend. The guard was an old lady and even though she was kind of a bitch she let him bring in his homework.  She said she was surprised to see someone his age in here, with the adults, but whatever he had done it must have been pretty bad or else he wouldn't be here, would he?  They kept him away from the drunks at night and the only other people who came into the "pen" (his word, not mine) were guys who got bailed out within a couple of hours and were too pissed off about their own bad luck to give him any shit for his. 

What really fucked with him was rehab.  It didn’t matter that he'd never smoked a single joint (or even a cigarette) at this time:  he was an addict and by gum he had to admit to being an addict before the obese, shit-smelling overseer would sign the form saying that Chris had attended his sessions.  Every weekend for three months he was legally forced to lie.  Yes, he said, he was an addict.  Yes, even though it made no sense in any grammatical or even symbolic context, he was forced to say "my name is Chris and I'm a narcotic."  His personal habits were picked apart—why was his hair so long (it wasn't that long, really)? Why did he wear the same pants on Sunday that he wore on Saturday?  Who were these "Dead Milkmen" that his T-shirt spoke of?  Ohh… and surely this is a good-tempered, Christian punk band, right?  No?  Well you see right there that's a part of the problem.  Have your mother sign a note saying you've thrown out all of their CDs and any other enabling you might own.  No—you can't sell them, you must throw them out. 

"We had to go in a day and a half every weekend.  All day Saturday and then Sunday from noon until 4.  It took me five weeks, when I was starting to get comfortable, before I asked if I could come in Saturday afternoon and all day Sunday.  It worked out better for me that way, since the place where I worked wasn't open Sundays.  The fat guy just opened his mouth and would not close it.  'When would you go to church?'  he said. By then I knew enough to laugh and say 'oh yeah what was I thinking.'"

A few of the people had actual problems.  One guy got caught with meth, was beating the shit out of his wife and his two little girls, and seemed genuinely remorseful.  Another guy had to drink a sixer every morning or else he'd get the shakes so bad he wouldn't be able to drive to work.  But most of the people there were more or less normal and had either fucked up once or else been fucked over once—got into a bar fight while legally drunk, blew .02 over the legal limit at a roadblock, smoked pot once every few weeks and got narced on by a snitch, that kind of stuff. These people were split over how much they believed the bullshit they were being fed.  Those who believed, as the official literature did, that being hungover once in your lifetime or ever drinking more than 4 beers in a sitting two or more times in a month are both signs of hardcore alcoholism, they became repentant and preachy. 

One such lady was a thin, tan, well-dressed soccer mom who would snitch on the others when they didn't pay close enough attention to the instructional videos or else would appear in any way to not be taking things seriously enough.  If you were bad you got demerits, credit card-sized pieces of construction paper upon which frowny faces and intimidating biblical verses were printed. The overseer would also scribble something down in his notebook, which must have had some kind of official weight because it was on his person at all times.

Most people have an innate desire, however illogical it might often be, to please authority figures, and so Chris and the rest of the doubtful "addicts" thought the embarrassment of getting their reprimand literally handed to them was punishment enough for resting their eyes or letting a stray giggle break loose when the acting in an informational film was especially bad. Chris made only one such mistake.  During a lecture, the overseer kept making the point that it wasn't the drugs that people get addicted to—oh no, it's the high that keeps you coming back.  Chris smiled—remember at this point he still probably hadn't ever been high, not in his whole life—because it seemed like such a stupid, nonsensical thing to say, because even though he was only 16 he could appreciate moments like this, when the moronic essence of a big, scary process could concentrate itself into a single sentence. 

"It's not the drugs:  it's the high," the man said.  He was very clean shaven, dressed like a detective in a 70s cop show, his hair was combed so straight it was like wire, his glasses were round and cruel looking and he had this, this look on his face, this air about him like he thought he was a genius.  He nodded a little bit after the repetition of his idiotic point. Proud—he was actually proud of the things he was saying, proud of his position, proud of getting to fill the heads of desperate or else unfortunate people with nonsense.  And this made Chris smile—not laugh, just smile, and the soccer mom pulled on his ear really hard, so hard it made his eyes water, and then she raised her hand to snitch on him.  The proud overseer was still proud, looked like a king in an old movie, and with the most serious air Chris had ever seen, the fat man called him up before the entire room.  His eyes were still watery from the shock of having his ear nearly yanked up and so he looked down, towards the ground, so people wouldn't think he was crying.

"You ashamed of something," the fat overseer asked.  Chris didn't say anything. "Look up," said the overseer.  Chris kept looking down.  His chest moved in and out heavily and his fists were clenched, and he wasn't sure but he may have been crying normal tears by this point, but they were out of rage, not sadness.  Or—no…really what's the difference between those two, and it's impossible that the immense hopelessness of his situation and the utter retardation of his surroundings hadn't saddened somewhat.  If it were just rage making him cry then he would have also lashed out, punched the overseer or at least called him a name. No. No, the hopelessness must have stung enough to make him sad.  But his tears were out of rage primarily, and out of nothing even close to shame.

"Look up.  Now."

He did.  His jaw was clenched and his eyes were tightened into red little slits but he looked more defeated than mean, more helpless than threatening.

"I want you all to look at this face.  Soak it up.  Take it all in.  Done?  Give you another second.  Okay, now you're done.  This, people, is what failure looks like.  Some of you will see it again, right here.  This is what it looks like when you don't take yourself seriously, when you don't care enough about yourself to appreciate the chances that are being given to you."

He extended a demerit card towards the Chris’ face.  It was accepted without a whimper.

Weeks later, it came time for Chris and the gang to "graduate" from their classes.  By this point, Chris had gotten drunk several times (even puked, once) and tried to smoke pot a few times but it hadn't done anything to him.  Maybe he was just too drunk to feel it or he wasn't inhaling right, who knows.  Anyhow he figured a few bong hits wouldn't hurt before he had to show up to the ceremony, right, since he hadn't felt anything yet.  And, man, it was a blast because he was high as a fucking kite at the graduation, must have shoved 20 inches worth of the party sub into his mouth and downed at least 7 flutes of sparkling grape juice.  

His mother and stepfather—both stinking rich, by the way, disheartened by the lad's sudden fall from grace and more than a little pleased to see him making such a fast and exemplary recovery with the aid of such a caring and competent program—were dressed to the nines.  His mom was making time with the addicts.  This was her wont, the irresistible, flirty friendliness that drove her from the dregs of society (Chris' biological father) all the way to where she was today. While this was going on, Stepfather gracefully let loose to the riffraff around him all those little signs that showed that he was a kind man, but of great consequence.  He'd talk about sports while stretching him arm just so, just far enough to let his fancy watch fall into view.  He'd offer to lift heavy objects as an excuse to show off his bed-made tan, his gym-toned arms and back.  All of your jokes made him smile, but only just long enough for you to get a glimpse of his perfectly straight, snow white teeth. Both of them kept making their way over to Chris, who had stationed himself near the concessions table, to whisper into his ear how proud they were of him for pulling himself around and hint bluntly at him still receiving for his birthday a new car.  All the while, through this bleary, more-or-less with it haze, feeling content and calm with his surroundings and his high, Chris kept thinking about how much he had it made.  Everyone was a sucker, it seemed, but him.  Really, wow.  Everyone is stupid but me.

The soccer mom cut quickly around the room, stopping alongside each cluster of people and telling them that something important was about to happen,  it was time for everyone to walk into the little classroom where they normally met.  "You're not gonna want to miss this" she said, looking right into Chris with a mean little smile on her face that she knew would scare him.  Oh god, Chris though, she knew that he was high.  What was she in here for—ooh shit man, you've heard her talk about it 100 times.  Vicodin, right.  Vicodin and wine, passing out while one of her kids started a fire.  That's right.  Calm down. She wouldn't have known what someone looked like when he was high on pot.  Mom and Stepfather couldn't even tell and they saw Chris every day.  Calm down.

Chris shoved a few more bites of party sub into his mouth.  His mom laughed and said "getting better must make you work up an appetite, huh?"  Stepfather laughed.  Chris couldn't say anything, not even by the time they had walked all the way into the classroom and sat down on little folding chairs, because there was so much sandwich in his mouth.  Things began to quiet down within a couple of minutes. The overseer, smiling, poked his head out of his office and waved to the small crowd.  People clapped a little bit.  Chris noticed that "AWARDS RECEPTION" had been written on the blackboard with colored chalk, the letters alternating blue to red, blue to red.  A stack of certificates sat on the table up front.  The overseer waddled to the table and gestured towards his office and a large, black policeman walked from office to the entrance.  He looked all business.  There was another one who poked his head out from the office and then the overseer was still smiling, like the soccer mom he was wearing big, mean, fake smile and Chris sunk into his chair and moaned a little bit because he knew he was about to get arrested, again.  Arrested in front of his parents. 

Mom asked stepfather what the policemen were hear for the stepfather said—ahh the great rational bastard, it was all Chris could do to stop himself from hugging him—that since this was an official presentation, court mandated and all that, they must have some cops come and witness it.  That's all it was.  Nothing to get too upset about.  Still—gotta stay calm.  If the cops took no notice of Chris then they wouldn't take any notice of his being so incredibly fucking high. 

"Well," the overseer began.  Chris was hyperobservant and noncritical and he realized for the first time how long it took the overseer to get through sentences, because of all of his fat.  He'd pause every few words and take in a deep breath from his gut.  When he spoke it was in these bursts that were effeminately condescending but still bulky and powerful.  Like, if being told you were bad by a sharp-tongued gay man didn't hurt you then maybe being yelled at by an abusive gym coach would. Only he wasn't a gym coach and probably wasn't gay, either.  Talked about his wife and kids all the time.  This was an act.  He had measured out this persona for himself.  This was some kind of cruel professionalism.

Jesus, Chris thought to himself.  Pot fucks up the way you think about things.  How long had it been since they sat down?  How long since he'd been scared by the cops?  When was the guy going to start talking—ohh, wait he's already talking.  Might want to listen:

"And this is what this program is supposed to achieve: smiling faces.  Not just the smiling faces of those who are on roads to recovery—their own personal roads—but of their families and their friends.  The selfishness might end here.  The pain they have caused you, that they are sorry for, might end here.  But it's up to everyone here to make sure that all of these faces keep smiling."

He paused—too long.  Wanted people to clap for him.  They did.  Then they finished.  He continued.  His tone was different.  He had sounded like he was reading off a card.  Now he sounded more like he normally did, during classes.

"But it would be… hypocritical of me to let everyone who came here leave here, especially… if I knew that they would be making people start… to cry sometime soon.  Two of our friends will not be graduating today."

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

"The first… Rup-ERT Donwiddle."

Ahh.  Okay.  That guy—white guy, lots of scars—never even showed up after the first day.  He wasn't even here.  Chris sunk his head into his lap, like he was stretching or about to puke, while the overseer mumbled about how Rubert had squandered his chance for recovery and blah blah blah. 

"Rufus failed… due to lack of initiative.  He didn't come.  But every time we have this course, it seems… there is someone who does come…  but who shows such disrespect that he might as well not have"

The overseer's tone changed, again, abruptly but not in a way that seemed unplanned.  He was talking somewhere in between the rehearsed tone he'd used earlier and the mumbling, jumbled tone he used during regular meetings.  The air shifted around Chris.  It felt like strategy, men moving into position in order to accomplish some kind of task or anticipate some kind of resistance.  The bigger cop stood by the door that led to the outside, blocking it.  Meanwhile the guys who had missed the most class and been handed the most demerits began to shift in their seats a little bit while their wives looked at them in white fear, the sterile blank walls felt like they were closing in—that's what  expression actually meant, when it actually feels like the room you are in just got smaller, more oppressive—and the big fat fuck who ran the place worse the biggest fatfuck smile Chris had ever seen and he if had dropped dead of a heart attack no one with a mind or soul would have gotten up to help him.  In spite of all of this, the synchronization was such that Chris couldn't work up any fear.  He was too busy admiring the evil of the whole process. 

Chris took to talking to the soccer mom, a few months later, as part of some revenge scheme that never quite materialized.  He had first planned on sleeping with the woman and ruining her marriage.  When that didn’t work out he thought about maybe figuring out the vulnerabilities of her home and passing that knowledge on to some unseemly sorts who, god willing, would have raped, robbed, and kill her.  He didn't do that, though, for the same reason he didn't speak up during the meeting when the police were blocking off the door and overseer was smiling the very worst smile the world had ever seen:  because the woman's evil was so immense that he could barely process it, could do little else, in fact, aside from sitting back and admiring it.  What he learned from her, after she had opened up to him and filled him on all the details, was that if you didn't pass the rehab course it counted as either a violation of your parole or else as a violation of your court sentence, so your failure was akin to skipping bail trying to escape from prison.   That's to say it was a Very Serious offense, one that could put you in prison for a long, long time.  And what the overseer hadn't told to anybody but the soccer mom, who was his favorite, was that his policy was that out of every class there had to be at least one addict who failed to pass in spite of showing up, one person who because of this or that reason simply did not deserve to consider his or her self cured of their addiction.  That's what the demerits were for. Whoever got the most failed the course.  You couldn't tell the whole class about this since then the people who got the most demerits early on would have stopped coming all together.  On top of that, if you got into a situation where a few weeks in one guy had racked up 20 or 30 demerits, then that more or less lightens the stakes for everyone else.  They'll start mouthing off or falling asleep since they know they'll never make up enough demerits to catch the worst guy, and then by the end of it you'd have been better off not doing any sort of demerit system at all.  No—no, the trick was to keep it a surprise.  That had two positives:  one, you catch the guy by surprise and make sure he gets what's coming to him.  Two, you put the fear of god into the others who are all sitting around watching.  That's when they got taught what happens if you don't respect the things you should.

All Chris knew at the time of meeting was that the balding factory worker, Hank was his name, was getting pulled up really unnecessarily roughly by the cop, had his arms thrown behind his back, and was getting cuffed and pushed out of the room while his teenage daughter was screaming in abject terror and his wife was burying her head in her hands and then the two women sat there while the smiling overseer berated Hank, talked about how he needed to learn how to accept help and how this was for the good of him and his family and You two ladies should stop crying, it's pointless, what you need right now is strength, loyalty, and conviction.  Hank had blown .02 over the legal limit at a road block.  He insisted he hadn't had a drop to drink in months, not since his first DUI, that he couldn't perform the heel-to-toe sobriety test successfully because of a fully documented injury he had sustained during Desert Storm and that the alcohol on his breath—which came up on only one of the 5 breathalyzers he was given—must have been from gum or mouthwash or cologne or something.  His parole was zero tolerance, though, and so he found himself at the meetings.  Every week he told the overseer that something he had said was bullshit.  He wouldn't say "My name is Hank and I'm a narcotic," he said, because that is just fucking stupid.  He wouldn't apologize for hurting anybody because he hadn't hurt anybody.  He wouldn't lie for the sake of lying because goddamn it that's not what this country is about.

And for that he went to prison.

Coming face-to-face with the reality of just how cruel and unfair the system is can, especially for a teenager, lead to a distrust so strong and all encompassing that it borders on despair.  This distrust can, sometimes, be healthy and inspire you to try and change things.  More often, it can grow into full-blown hatred, a maniacal desire to change things or to right wrongs that leads you to do something rash or destructive.  Still more often, it leads to a sense of defeatism, a feeling that you can't win since the system is so fucked so why the hell should you even try.  At least, that's what I gather from hearing Chris talk about it.  That's probably what I would have done if something like that would have happened to me.  I would have given up and failed.

And for the longest time Chris had given up and had failed. He drank and drugged and destroyed.  This made him a blast to hang out with.  This was when he still lived in Alton and I would see him once every few months, when I was at home visiting my family.  My sister moved to Garden City to attend the university at which I now teach.  Most of her friends soon followed suit.  He was left behind.  As I am self-absorbed to the point where I don't care about my friend's lives except for when their stories are particularly miserable or amusing, I don't know much about this time period except that it saw Chris turning things somewhat around.  Not by much.  He still drinks far too much.  But he's in school now—he's at the school where I teach, actually, although I've never had him for a student. 

[dazzlinglando]

Hometown

masterlist

summary: when ateez are given a week to go back to their hometowns and aria isn't allowed to visit the uk, yunho invites aria to join him.

note: i wrote this on the way home from the beach so im sorry if theres any errors !! also,, hehe :D

era: 2019

the second the ceo of kq entertainment announced that the members of ateez would be allowed home for a week, everyone was exatic. they’d been so busy since their debut 4 months ago, they hadn’t been able to return home for almost a year. it was different for aria, however. all the other members had family who lived in korea, and could easily get to whenever they had the time to. her family was 12 hours away. in fact, she hadn’t seen her parents at all since moving to korea over 3 years ago.

“aria, i’m truly sorry bu-”

“it’s ok. i understand” she gave a weak smile, wanting nothing more than to be allowed to fly back to her home country and hug her family again. “besides, i could do with some quiet time in the dorm,”

she didn’t want to ruin the happiness of the other members, they deserved to go home just as much as she did. if anything, her not being able to go home made her more determined to make sure that the other members had a good time with their own families. there was a special buzz around the dorm that night, each member already packing their bags and facetiming their loved ones.

the meeting triggered something in yunho. he knows that aria had been having a tough time, and knows that although she may be good, too good sometimes, at hiding her emotions, he still wanted to make sure that she knew that he was there for her, and thinking of her.

he fell into a daze, watching as she danced around the kitchen to whatever song came up on her playlist. he loved this carefree side of her, how despite feeling down, always puts on a happy face and enjoys herself no matter the situation. she was baking cookies, something she often did when feeling down. baking was her comfort, something that reminded her of the times she spent with her mother making all sorts of different cakes and treats for charity events.

aria span around the kitchen, a wooden spoon held to her mouth as a microphone as she belted the lyrics and danced along to the blackpink song that had been playing, however quickly regretting all her life decisions as she made eye contact with the man leaning against the counter. her cheeks rose in embarrassment, whereas he burst out into laughter.

“how long have you been there-” aria sighed, hiding her head in her hands. “long enough,” the tallest member said in between laughs, imitating her dance to ‘ddu du ddu du’.

still laughing, he embraced aria into a soft hug, resting his head on top of hers. “shouldn’t you be packing?” she said into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“shouldn’t you be, too?” aria pulled away from the hug, looking up at the man with a bewildered expression. “but i’m not go-”

“well, i was thinking, aaaandddd, how would you like to come to my hometown with me? you know, to see more of korea.” a wide smile broke out on his face as he asked the question.

“i wouldn’t want to intrud-”

“nonsense.” he cut her off. “i already spoke to my parents, they’re fine with it! they were more excited at the prospect of meeting you than they were seeing me, their own son!” yunho pulled aria into another hug. for some reason, her touch was so comforting, he loved the way his arms fit so perfectly around her. he could stay here, holding her forever if he could. yunho being this touchy with her wasn’t out of the ordinary, every member enjoyed their skinship with aria. even jongho and hongjoong, who basically have a crisis any time another member comes close to them.

“i mean, i’ve got nothing else to do. why not?”

yunho’s eyes lit up. a week where he had aria all to himself. even the thought of that made his heart flicker with happiness.

“great! we leave tomorrow at noon, it’s quite cold there during this time of year, make sure to pack something warm!” he spoke quickly, before subconsciously pressing a light kiss to the top of her head and rushing out the door. the tips of his ears and his cheeks getting redder by the second.

[davidobitch]

Traditions | Timothee Chalamet

okay so I’m well aware I don’t ever write for Timothee Chalamet but I really wanted to write this and it didn’t seem fitting for anyone else I usually write about?? I hope you like it even though the timing is like...18 days late...oops

I didn’t proof read this so my apologies if it sounds like a 5th grader wrote it. 

anything written in italics is the past! enjoy xx

3 years. 156 weeks. 1,095 days.

That’s how long you’ve spent with Timothee. You love him with everything you have inside you but things haven’t been okay lately, not for the past year almost. Neither of you wanted this to be ‘right person, wrong time’. You both tried to fight for your relationship to work out and go back to how things used to be...but that was up until last month.

Timothee has been busy with his movies and you’ve been busy with your business. With the year coming to an end, you both and to get everything done before the new year. You tried not to think that this was the end. You kept telling yourself that it was only for this month then you and Timothee could go back to working everything out. But part of you knew that maybe this really was the end.

You were just getting home from a launch party when Timothee was getting ready to leave.

“Hi,” you said quietly, dropping your purse on the table, “Another shoot?” you kept your eyes on your boyfriend, watching him go over his mental checklist of everything he needed.

Timothee nodded his head, turning in circles looking for what was probably his keys. You glanced behind him, seeing them in the other room on the coffee table.

Passing by him, Timothee followed you with his eyes hoping you weren’t walking away from him without a goodbye. He heard his keys jingle in your shot and let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, standing in front of you. His hand lingered on yours, letting his fingers trace your bones.

“Promise me you’ll be back tonight?” your stare was fixed on your intertwined hands, not wanting him to let go.

Timothee squeezed your hand before pulling away, “Of course. You know I’ll be here.”

You and Timothee always threw a New Years Eve party, it was something both of you looked forward to each year.

He gave you a quick kiss before leaving the house, letting silence seep through the walls. It hasn’t been long since you started staying at Timothee’s daily. It’s only been a year, if that, which ironically is when everything started going wrong in the relationship. Coincidence? Probably, but you refused to believe that. Most nights you couldn’t help but wonder if you moving in was the reason you guys started fighting almost weekly.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you started picking up around the place, wanting the house to be spotless by tonight.

You have sent Timothee countless texts reminding him what time people will be over and last minute things he needed to buy. It’s been three hours and you haven’t heard back from him. You assumed he was just getting caught up in shooting or discussing work stuff, but when another three hours passed by with no call or texts, you had a bad feeling he was bailing out tonight.

You texted Timmy again, another reminder of what time to be home and asking him to pick up the rest of the party stuff for you. You begged him not to be late tonight, or even just not show up at all. Time was slowly running out and you decided to just run out and buy everything yourself. On the verge of tears, you called Timothee and to your dismay...it went straight to voicemail. You tried holding in your cries as you left him yet another message, telling him tonight was make or break the relationship. It was either he shows up by midnight or you pack your bags tomorrow morning and move out. You didn’t care anymore as you let your feelings out fully for the first time in months.

You needed the drive home to clear your head and gather yourself before having to pretend your relationship is perfect.

It was just barely 9pm and you still had to hurry up and be ready by 10. You called a couple friends to come over early to help finish setting up so you can shower and look presentable.

“Thank you guys so much,” you said as you entered the kitchen where your friends were arranging the cups and drinks, “T’s been so caught up at work today. I just- I love you guys.”

“We love you of course,” your friend, Ashley says as she grabs a bottle of tequila and 3 glasses, “To a new year,” she says, raising her glass.

“To a new year,” you and your other friend say in unison.

The liquid burns as it travels down your throat, warming your entire body. You took another shot before going back to finish getting ready.

You picked out your best little black dress, wanting Timothee to see what he’s losing if he decides to not show up tonight. Your hair was curled, your face was glammed up, and you were ready to black out everything tonight.

You finished just in time for all your’s and Timothee’s friends to show up, letting the night begin.

You were about 5 tequila shots and 3 drinks in when the clock hit 11:45. You checked your phone seeing you had no calls or texts from your boyfriend. You were losing hope with every passing second and you didn’t care to hide it anymore.

You were on the balcony with your friends when your mouth started to ramble. “T isn’t coming tonight. Or at least I don’t think he is. He’s been gone for the past 15 hours and I’m pretty sure we’re breaking up tonight. Fuck we should’ve broken up a year ago. You know nothing has been the same since I moved in?” You took another drink before continuing, silently hoping your friends would cut you off any second now, “We haven’t had sex in god knows how long. I don’t get to see him for longer than 4 minutes a day. We tried so hard to make things work which was such a bullshit move.” You let out a shaky breath, knowing you were a couple words away from crying and that was the last thing you wanted to do tonight. Finishing off your drink, you closed your eyes and let the night breeze calm you down.

“We see more than you think, y/n,” Ashley says, pouring half of her cup into yours, “We just don’t say anything. You know we love you and we will continue to support you no matter what you choose to do.”

“And don’t give up on Timmy not coming just yet. He still has 5 minutes!” you sip on your drink, trying to remain optimistic. Olivia’s right, he still has time..but if he hasn’t showed up in the past 5 hours, he’s not going to in the next 5 minutes.

“I really thought he was the one, y’know?” you mutter into your cup, watching the liquid swish from side to side.

Your friends wrap their arms around you, pulling you in for a group hug. “Come on, let’s do a couple shots before the ball drops.” Olivia pulls you back inside and to the kitchen, placing 2 shot glasses in front of each of you.

“Cheers to 2021. A year of new beginnings and more memories than we will remember!” Ashley yells, bringing her glass up.

11:58. You knocked one of the shots back, allowing it to fog your brain.

“Cheers to y/n, for being the toughest bitch we know,” Olivia shouts as she raises her glass, you and Ashlet following her actions.

11:59. Another shot down.

You glanced around the room as there was 30 seconds left in the year. No tall, lanky, brown haired boy in sight. You wanted to cry and scream and run out of the house but instead, you grabbed the bottle of vodka and made your way to the balcony.

You caught your friends attention, shaking your head as if to tell them you’re fine but not to follow you. The glass door slid shut behind you as everyone started counting down.

“10!”

“Kiss me tonight,” you boldly said to Timothee, “None of our friends are single. We’re the only losers who have nobody. So be my new year’s kiss.” The first new year’s eve you and Timmy spent together. Your first year of being friends.

“9!”

“Are you going to force me into kissing you again?” Timothee jokes as he comes up behind you, almost causing you to spill your drink from scaring you.

“First of all, you can’t creep up on a girl like that!” you swatted at his chest before taking a sip of your drink, “Second of all, I didn’t force you to do anything.” Everyone around you was counting down, “Third of all,” just as the clock hit 12:00, you pulled Tim’s face to your level, gently pressing your lips to his, “absolutely.”

“8!”

You had spent the entire night by Timothee’s side. This was your first year spending New Years with just him and his hometown friends. You felt lost without your usual crew bullying you into kissing Timmy for another year. “What do you say we do this every year,” Timothee nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck, placing light kisses on your skin.

You let out a giggle, confused at his choice of words, “T we do this every year already,” you turned around to face him, your hands playing with the bottom of his shirt.

“No I mean as a couple. I want you to be my girlfriend,”

“7!”

“I love you,” Timothee drunkenly yelled in your ear, causing a bright smile to spread across your face.

“You’re drunk, baby,” you rolled your eyes. Neither of you have said the L word before and this wasn’t the way you expected it to happen.

“Maybe, but I don’t want to spend another year not telling you every day.”

“6!”

“Timmy!” you yelled over the music, wrapping your arms around his waist, “You have 5 seconds to kiss me or I’m finding another boy!” you giggled as Timothee turned around in your arms, grabbing your face and pulling you into him just as the new year hit.

“5!”

You were crowded into a small corner of your friends kitchen, having been forced to spend the night with them instead of your boyfriend. Timothee was out in New York for a photoshoot and couldn’t make it home in time for your “tradition”.

“I wish you were here,” you mumbled, making a pouty face at your phone screen, “Now I have to kiss Ashley this year and that’s not fun!” You yelled, hoping she would hear you from across the way. You changed your camera to face here, showing Timothee her middle finger in the air, “See, she’s mean. And so are you for not being here.”

Your eyes wandered to the time on the stove clock, seeing as it just hit midnight.

“Happy new year, baby,” Timothee says. You look down at your phone screen to see the facetime was over. Confused as to how the call ended but you could still hear his voice, you glanced up at your friends to see them all staring at you with giddy smiles.

“Can you turn around and kiss me already?” Tears blurred your vision as you quickly spun around and jumped into your boyfriend’s arms.

“4!”

“Please please please don’t hate me,” Timothee says as he wraps his arms around you. “I didn’t realize the time and I know I fucked up, but you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world, y/n” This was the first year he almost missed being your new year’s kiss and as much as you wanted to kill him for it, you knew it wasn’t his fault.

“You’re so fucking lucky you’re cute,” you said, shaking your head and pulling on his shirt, bringing his body into yours.

“3!”

Another shot in your system, trying to rid the memories of the past 7 New Year’s Eve nights. Your mind started playing games with you. Timothee’s voice was echoing all around you, like he was actually with you.

“2!”

“Baby,” you could hear Timmy say, but you tried to push it out of your thoughts. “Please don’t ignore me. I’m so fucking sorry,” You could smell his cologne behind you as a warm touch could be felt on your wrist. Your breath was shaky as you turned to face the man behind you, hoping this was reality and you weren’t drunkenly imagining this.

“1!”

“I’m here. I’m always going to be here. For the next whatever years, I’m 100% here. No more long days without you. No more missing date nights. This is my promise to you, y/n.” Timothee says, his eyes filled with liquid.

“Happy new year!”

You threw your arms around his neck, almost falling backwards as you crashed your lips into his. “I love you, forever.” you muttered against his lips, “Thank you, T.”

*****

“Why can’t we just spend this year at home with our friends like we always do?” you asked Timothee as he pulled you out onto the balcony with him. This year he took you to Paris for New Years Eve and as grateful as you were for this mini trip, you didn’t want to break tradition.

“Because like you said, we spend every year at home with our friends. It’s never been just us.”

Ever since he promised to put more time into the relationship, everything has been almost perfect. Of course you still had your occasional fight, but that’s to be expected and it was never over anything stupid. Well...most of the time.

“I guess it would be nice to spend it alone,” you leaned your head against Timothee’s chest as you took in the site in front of you.

The hotel room had a perfect view of the Eiffel Tower, dead center in front of you. You’ve seen the structure many times in the past but it was never this beautiful.

“I love you, you know that?” he whispers against your neck, his hands gently squeezing your hips.

You nodded but stayed silent, letting the music from inside fill the space around you. Timothee started to sway with you as your favorite song started to play in the background.

“I would love to assume it’s such a coincidence that Robbers is playing right now,” you smiled, teasing your boyfriend, “But I guess I should give you credit for planning this.”

Timothee takes your hand in his and spins you around into him as his other hand settles on your hip.

The two of you danced around the balcony together as your song went on and all of Paris could be heard counting down the end of the year.

“Last year I made you a promise to put more effort in. We had a hard year and I know I put you through a lot and I can’t apologize enough for that, baby. But here we are 365 days later, getting to have another new year’s kiss together. I thank you every day for forcing me to kiss you all those years ago ‘cause we both know I would have never had the balls to make the move.” Timothee’s voice was soft, barely even audible with all the other noise happening around you. “But a lot has changed since that first kiss. A lot between us but also with us separately. I never want to spend New Years, let alone any day, without you.” Timothee abruptly stopped moving and pulled away from you as fireworks were being set off all around the city. You pulled your eyes from him for a split second to watch the sky light up with different colors.

What you didn’t expect to see when you brought your attention back to him, was Timmy on one knee, with a ring being held up towards you.

“I’m making another promise to you, to love you forever, to always put you first. You’ve been my life for the past 6 years and even though we were together for only 4 of those years, I still couldn’t imagine you not being in my life. You’re my best friend. Mon amour. I want to spend every waking moment with you. I want you to yell at me when my socks are in random parts of the house. I want to have little mini versions of us running around and drawing on walls. When all my dreams come true, you’re the one I want next to me. It’s you, baby. It’s always been you. Marry me, y/n.”

Your hand flew to your mouth as you vigorously nodded your head. You didn’t give Timothee the chance to stand up before you fell to your knees in front of him, falling into his arms. “Of course I’ll marry you, T. You’re the only person I ever want to spend my life with. I love you so so much, mon amour.” You cried as you placed kisses all over his face.

[cherrybracelets]

til the end of time

spencer reid x fem!reader / bau x platonic!reader

word count: 5.1k | warnings: typical cm violence, pregnancy and childbirth mention. other than that, all fluff and corniness

an: this is super stupid and corny; just sometbing i threw together !! i also wrote a lot of this on my phone if there’s typos don’t @ me

You had been imagining the day of your wedding since you were 12 years old, and attended your Aunt Maria’s wedding. It was the first wedding you had ever been too, and it was so much fun. Well, looking back, it was actually a very cheesy and poorly thrown together party in a cheap hotel, but at the time you were amazed.

You have attended quite a few weddings since then, much that were way nicer than Maria’s. Every one you went to, you gathered more and more ideas for what you wanted to do on your own big day (when the time came, of course.) You knew you wanted white roses in the centerpieces, vanilla raspberry cake was a must, and your dream venue was saved a thousand times on your Pinterest boards.

But, nothing ever goes as planned, right? When you started planning your wedding with Spencer, you know you would have to sacrifice a few of your ideas that weren’t exactly plausible. But you never in a million years thought you would be here.

It all started about a week ago, back in the lovely conference room of the BAU. You and Spencer sat next to each other, whispering away about wedding and honeymoon plans, the rest of the team scattering in and preparing to hear about a new case.

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do if my Uncle Mike brings his girlfriend…” you frowned, your stomach doing flips as you stressed more and more about the big day.

“Just have your mom call him and talk to him, he’ll listen to her,” Spencer assured you, squeezing your hand tightly, trying to pull all of your stress away. He hated how much anxiety all of this was bringing you. For him, your wedding was the brightest day of his future, it was all he could think about. And you felt the same, of course, but the planning was exhausting.

“Sorry to bring everyone in again, I know we’ve barely been on the ground a day, but we have a weird one today. Garcia,” Hotch motioned to the tech analyst, who smiled happily as she stood up and began her presentation.

“So, my friends, we are going to Spencer’s favorite place, Las Vegas!” She giggled, trying to bring lightness into a place that had seen so many horrors.

“Oh! I’ll have to call my mom!” Spencer smiled, always excited at any chance to see his mother.

“Let’s focus on getting this creep, first,” Garcia shuttered, pulling up multiple photos of dead bodies on the screen. “These are the two victims that we know of, Jenna Benson and Evan Perry.”

“What was the cause of death?” Morgan asked.

“Gunshot to the head. But, there are two ante mortem shots on each of the victim, one in the leg and one in the… nether regions,” Garcia shuttered, pulling up more pictures of the injuries on the bodies.

“Genital mutilation, that’s a statement,” you responded.

“And it was done before he killed them, so it’s definetly torture.”

“Do you think he could be trying to extort information? One bullet each time you don’t get a question right? You have three strikes to get it right?” JJ suggested.

“I don’t know, but these bodies were only killed a few hours apart, and chances are he’s already moved on to his next victim. Wheels up in 30.”

The group began to dismiss, Spencer’s hand still locked in yours as you left and went back to your desks.

“I’m gonna go grab our bags from the car and call my mom, you’ll be okay for a few minutes?” Spencer questioned, his eyes wide as he awaited your response.

“Yes, I’ll be fine on my own, Spence,” you giggled, rolling your eyes as you turned towards him and back at your desk, mixing thoughts of your big day and the big case racing through your mind.

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

The plane ride was long, going backwards in time to reach the opposite coast always took a while. The team spoke for a bit about the case, before saying all that could be said and separating into their own comfort. You and Spencer sat close in the chairs, your head resting on his shoulder as he flipped through some case files.

Garcia had popped in earlier with the knowledge that the victims attended high school together, making these killings seem a lot less random.

“Jenna was a freshman when Evan was a senior, it’s probably unlikely they knew each other,” Spencer whispered to you, his brows furrowed as he tried to uncover something between the lines.

“I knew a lot of seniors when I was a freshman,” you shrugged, dismissing his theory.

“Yeah, but you went to a small school, everybody knew everyone. Vegas high schools aren’t like that,” he responded sharply, his knowledge of his hometown showing through.

You decided to let Spencer think silently; he tended to work best that way. You shut your eyes for a bit, only waking back up to feel the plane descending.

You didn’t know how you had managed to let time pass away like that, but the stress of everything must have been wearing you down. Spencer had fallen asleep too, his groggy eyes reopening as the plane hit the ground.

Hotch had already given you your assignments, you and JJ off to the second crime scene, which happened to be Evan’s house. The cars were there when you walked off the plane, and an extra car tasked with delivering your luggage to the hotel you probably wouldn’t have a chance to go to.

As you landed, Hotch took a quick phone call, his face making that familiar look when something happened.

“Another body?” Emily asked as he hung up the phone.

“Two. Let’s all go back to the station, for now. We need to sit down and go over everything. If he’s working this quickly, this is a spree. And we have a lot less time than we thought.”

“I’ll let the Detective know,” Rossi nodded, walking towards the car and hopping in the driver's seat. The rest of the team followed, you and Spencer walking side by side to the car that Derek had claimed as his.

“Glad I took that little nap on the plane, doesn’t seem like we’ll be sleeping for the next 48 hours,” you giggled, getting in the back seat of the SUV.

“Probably 72, if we’re being realistic,” Spencer teased, getting in the passenger's seat. He always got in the passenger's seat when the two of you were in the car with one other person. You never questioned it, but one day he let it slip that he just didn’t want the person in the front to be lonely.

You got to the Field Office about twenty minutes later, partially thanks to Derek’s driving. As the rest of the team continued to arrive, the three of you walked into the building to begin your work. You greeted the Agents and Detectives, avoiding small talk as you knew the urgency of this case. Luckily they had a room and boards all set up for you guys. Spencer and Derek began hanging evidence on the boards, as you called Garcia to get an update on your latest victims.

“Hey baby girl, what do you have for us?” Derek flirted, while neatly hanging photos.

“The two vics were actually killed previous to our two victims. Not graduates of our high school, but! One of them is Jenna Benson’s mother, Cheryl. But I cannot find a connection to the other one.”

“Her mother? So there’s gotta be some dirt in that family. What can you find?” You asked, twirling a pen in your fingers.

“I’m looking, but I can’t find much. Cheryl’s husband and Jenna’s dad, Clint, apparently left them when she was 15. Filed for divorce and just left. Other than that, they look pretty normal.”

“What about hospital records, medical stuff? Are there signs of abuse?” Derek asked.

Your phone started ringing loudly on the desk, which you quickly declined and put in your pocket.

“Sorry, go on Garcia,” you apologized, uncomfortably shoving your phone in your jacket pocket.

“Doesn’t appear so… oh, woah. This is odd.”

“What did you find, baby girl?”

“When Jenna was 14, she had a doctors appointment where they noted she was 6 months pregnant. And there’s no other documentation of it. No other ultrasounds, no birth or death certificate of said baby.” Garcia was clicking away, trying to find any trace of other evidence.

“What year was this?” You asked.

“1991.”

“So if the baby was born, they would be 29 now. Fits the profile of a spree killer,” Spencer shrugged.

“Yeah, but how is there no record of this child anywhere?”

“Children,” Garcia chimed in, her voice filled with dread.

“Come again?” Derek asked.

“According to her doctor, Jenna was pregnant with twins.”

At this point, the rest of the team had finally arrived, coming in just in time for the call. Garcia filled everyone in, each of you silently going over the facts. You tried your best to focus on the case, but your mind was still drudging over the details of your wedding. Your phone kept buzzing in your pocket, and you were certain it was some vendor or family member trying to take your money or beg for a plus one. But you couldn’t think about that, not now. You had to be here, be present. You had to catch this man.

“I have another information bomb that is going to blow your minds,” Garcia chimed in, her voice in shock as she awaited permission to talk.

“What is it?”

“In 1992, Cheryl and Clint Benson deposited two sixty-thousand dollar cash deposits in the same week.”

“That’s about how much a baby would go for on the black market,” Spencer added, his fact bringing you all to the same conclusion.

“We have to find Clint Benson, he’ll be the only one that can help us,” Rossi said.

“Do you think he’ll cooperate? That’s super illegal, he might not indict himself,” Emily added.

“We can offer him some kind of deal. If our unsub is one of the children, he’s the only shot we have at finding him.”

“I’ll work on finding the dad. I’ll talk to you guys soon.”

The team split up into smaller conversations, your phone still vibrating violently in your pocket. Spencer walked up to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

“You doing alright, honey? You seemed distracted earlier…” he pouted, kissing the top of your head with ease, showcasing his clear difference in height from you.

“I’m just thinking about all the wedding stuff… it’s stupid,” you answered, shaking your head in defense. “It sure doesn’t help that my phone won't stop ringing!” You groaned, ripping it out of your pocket and slamming it down on the table. The team stopped what they were doing and looked towards you, but Spencer waived them away, as if to say, ‘I’m handing this, don’t worry.’

“I’ll answer, and take care of it whatever it is. You focus on the victims, see if we can find some more connections, okay.” Spencer gave you a reassuring kiss on the lips, holding your phone in his palm and walking out to the hallway to handle your never ending stress.

You turned towards the files, trying to take your finances advice and focus on the victims. You looked at the photos over and over, trying to see if there was something you missed. Something that would make this make more sense. And then you had a thought. Something that might make this make sense.

“What if he’s looking for the dad?” You shouted, hoping someone would be drawn to your thought.

“The two men have nothing in common,” Derek responded.

“No, no. I know. But, like…” you stuttered, trying your best to organize the words into your head so they would understand. “The old man is still an outlier. But this younger victim, Evan. He went to highschool with Jenna. What if all the information he had on his dad was he was a senior at her school. Maybe he had a picture, and he’s hunting guys who might be the one.”

“If he came face to face with his mom, though, why not just ask her directly? If he is shooting them to get information, why wouldn’t she give in?” Emily questioned.

You thought for a moment, but JJ came in with an answer before your brain could think of one. Thank god.

“Maybe she wanted to protect him.”

“How would he have gotten a picture of his supposed dad though? Why would she give him a picture and not a name?”

“We’re missing something here. And unfortunately the only way we’ll find it is with more victims,” Rossi said, crossing his arms in frustration.

“And there are. Two more bodies have been found, this time much more recent. Time of death is only two hours ago,” Spencer added, walking back in from the hallway.

“And identification on them yet?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah, they’re sending their names to Garcia. It’s two more men, though. Roughly the same age as Evan. Same look as well, according to the Agent that told me.”

The phone in the middle of the table started ringing, a sign that Garcia had important information to fill your heads. Her voice always brought a kind of sweetness to your thoughts, making the whole room seem brighter.

“Garcia, what’s up?” Rossi asked her, awaiting the key to unlock this case.

“Two more victims both went to high school with Jenna. And they do look a lot alike…” Garcia said.

“Okay, can I state the obvious here. If these babies were sold, what are the chances either of them make it to 29? Most creeps buying infants don’t want them for longevity,” JJ shuttered, feeling sick at the words she was saying, but knew it needed to be discussed.

“Actually, an alarming amount of babies purchased illegally are bought by real parents looking for children to adopt. The adoption process is incredibly lengthy and difficult, and it’s even more difficult to find a newborn. A lot of… more affluent couples take this route.” Spencer nodded quietly after he spoke, something small you had always noticed about him. It was almost if he was reassuring himself that he did okay, that he said all he needed to say.

“So the only shot at finding either of these babies is through Jenna’s father,” Hotch sighed, realizing again that almost all cases came down to one cruical final piece. Clint Benson was your final piece.

“Lucky for you, Aaron Hotchner, I have found our man of the hour. Clint still lives in beautiful Las Vegas, only about fifteen minutes away from where you are now. Sending the home and work addresses as we speak,” Garcia teased, a few of you giggling as your phone’s received her information. Spencer handed you your cell back and smiled, kissing your forehead.

“I handled everything. No one will bother you again,” he assured, making you feel relaxed for the first time in weeks.

“Well, people can bother me a little, it’s still my wedding,” you teased, pushing Spencer slightly as he rolled his eyes and walked back towards Derek.

“I think we should bring Clint here versus ambushing him at home. He may not know about Jenna and Cheryl yet. It only hit the news cycle an hour ago, and they aren’t even releasing the identities,” JJ spoke, her motherly instinct always kicking in in times like these. She was right, as she usually was. It would be better to hear that kind of news here.

“Reid and Derek, go to his house. JJ and Rossi, go to his work. (Y/N) and Emily, stay here and start working on a profile based on what we have so far. Hopefully we can present something soon after we talk with Clint.” Hotch nodded at you all, making sure you all understood your tasks. You blew a kiss to Spencer as he walked out, feeling calmed by his quick smile before he was gone.

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Clint Benson was devastated when he heard the news of his wife and daughter. He still loved them both, but the guilt and shame of what happened was too much for him. According to Clint, the whole thing was his wife's idea. When she found out Jenna was pregnant at 14, she was heart broken. It was too late for an abortion, because they had only officially found out when she was six months.

“Cheryl was humiliated. Pulled her out of school, locked in her room. Didn’t want none of our friends to see her, to know what she did…” Clint sobbed, his voice tripping over itself.

“Which is why she never saw another doctor?” Hotch asked, carefully poking around for answers.

“Yeah… I kept trying to talk to her, ask her what we were going to do. Telling her Jenna needed to see a doctor. But Cheryl just said she was handing it, was taking care of all of it. I… didn’t know what to do. And then when Jenna went into labor, I begged Cheryl to take her to a hospital… but she wouldn’t. She barricaded herself in front of Jenna… until it was too late. She had them… right in her bedroom… a boy and a girl. They were so, so beautiful.” Clint was crying more, his words sounding more garbled with each passing second. You felt sick, horrible for the man.

Times like this made you wish for the distraction of the wedding. You tried picturing the suit you had planned for Spencer. The colors were perfect for him, and would match the rest of the theme perfectly. But then you remembered the guest list, and the caterer not having enough vegan options, and the open bar messing up your signature cocktail… And don’t even start with the DJ!

“Where are the babies now, Clint?” Hotch asked, his voice now rough and full of urgency.

“I… don’t know exactly. There wasn’t much information passed. Just names and cash.”

“What were the names?”

“Uh… the girl… she went to a couple named Ashley and Brian. The boy… Danielle and Andrew…” Clint mumbled, trying to remember more.

“Wait…” you whispered to yourself, something finally clicking in this case. You ran into the interrogation room, interrupting Hotch, much to his shock.

“Do you remember Andrew’s last name? Or what he looked like?”

“Uh… I think his last name started with an M… He had glasses. Does that help?”

“Hotch… our first victim was Andrew Masters.”

“Yes! Masters was his last name! Wait… victim? Did something happen to him? Is this connected to what happened to Cheryl and Jenna?”

You and Hotch looked at each other, a silent understanding between the two of you. You both knew what was happening here. Andrew Masters was killed by his own son. He was one of two babies given away by the Benson family that fateful evening. But why start murdering your family out of the blue? There was still something missing here.

“Have Garcia find out everything she can about Andrew’s son,” Hotch instructed, nodding you away as he readied himself to continue talking to Clint.

You ran into the hallway and called Garcia, looking around for Spencer, trying to tell him about the break in the case. Whenever either of you found something vital to the investigation, you always told each other immediately. You had done that since your first day on the team.

“What can I do for you, beautiful?” Garcia asked, distracting you from your thoughts about Spencer.

“Andrew Masters, our first victim, can you find anything on his son?”

“Uhh, sure. I can do that... what am I looking for exactly?” She questioned, still typing away madly in the background.

“We think he may be the unsub. Any triggers, any red flags?”

“Hmm, well here’s something. Up until two months ago, he was engaged. Can’t find a reason why it ended, but almost two months ago exactly they cancelled the venue, vendors, everything…”

“For no refunds, I’m sure,” you giggled, knowing well how the wedding industry worked. “What’s the ex fiance up to?”

“Well, she moved back in with her parents, Ashley and Brian, who look relatively normal…” Garcia responded.

“Wait, say that again. What were her parents' names?”

“Ashley and Brian Gregg.”

“Holy shit, Garcia. You’re a genius. Thank you!” You kissed loudly into the phone, hanging up the call and running towards the conference room. Everyone except Hotch was there, but you texted him to meet you in the conference room- that it was urgent.

“Guys, you will not believe this,” you finally said, after everyone arrived and was quiet enough to hear you. “Our first victim, Andrew, was the father of the son that Jenna gave away. Now, Jenna also gave away a daughter to another couple. Now, what are the odds of this. These two kids grow up, fall in love and get engaged. Talk about a trigger, finding out the love of your life is your secret twin.”

“You’re joking… evil twins again? Didn’t we already do this?” Emily laughed.

“It’s most likely just the guy. I’ll call Garcia and get her to send us everything she has on him. We gotta find this dude,” Derek instructed, leaving the room to speak to Garcia.

“How did they find out, though? Chances are the parents didn’t even know they were twins,” Rossi asked.

“Most likely not. Clint said the babies were picked up on different days.” Hotch added.

“It doesn’t matter how he found out, what matters is that he’s gonna kill a lot of people until he finds his ‘Dad’. He wants to punish anyone he thinks is involved in this crime.”

“We’ll put his picture out all over the media, and an APB on any vehicles he has. He won’t be able to hide for long. He has a mission, he’ll have to complete it.”

══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

Hotch, as usual, was right about the unsub. He did not stay in hiding for long. The police and FBI searched for six hours in his comfort zone, almost giving up hope, until he finally caved and came looking for another victim. JJ and Derek got to him first, trying to persuade him to drop his gun and come with them.

When it was finally all over, you felt equally ecstatic and exhausted. You couldn’t wait to crawl up onto a leather private jet chair and take an amazing nap. You were sad you didn’t get at least one night in the hotel. Something about hotels made Spencer get in a certain mood… even if you got a night away, there wasn’t much sleeping happening.

But you were grateful to be going home, at least until the next case popped up. You and Rossi were the only two that stayed back while the team went searching, wanting to be here in case any new bodies popped up. Rossi was wrapping up some paperwork with the other Agents out in the main room, and you paced back and forth in the conference room, hating the silence that was left when you were alone.

Rossi walked casually back to the conference room, and you could’ve sworn he had changed clothes. Maybe it was the extreme lack of sleep, but you could’ve sworn he didn’t look so… nice when he left the room.

“You ready to head to the airport? Everyone is gonna meet us there.” Rossi said, holding the door open for you.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Sure,” you responded, slightly confused at why the team didn’t come back here first. They usually did. But, everyone was tired and there really was no need to come back, you and Rossi had taken care of everything you needed to do to leave.

You followed Rossi down to the car, making small talk as he got in the driver’s seat and began heading away. You had only ever been to Vegas on trips for work, so you’d never really seen much of the city. It didn’t help that every street looked almost identical. You felt lost as you stared out the window, wondering how a young Spencer Reid could’ve survived in this massive city.

“Oh, before we get there, I just have to make one quick stop,” Rossi said, turning the turn signal on and pulling to the side of the road.

“Oh, uh, right now?” You questioned, jolting up as he hastily parallel parked the car.

“Yeah, it’ll be real quick. But, this isn’t a great part of town, so maybe you should come in with me…” He instructed, turning the car off and waiting for your answer.

“Um… I think I’ll be okay, Dave.” You laughed, rolling your eyes and turning to look at your phone.

“I really think you should come with me.”

“Are you not gonna go unless I do?”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine!” You rolled your eyes, opening the passenger door and getting out of the car. You stood on the sidewalk, standing angrily as you waited for Rossi to get out and walk to you.

“What are we even doing here-” you asked, turning around and getting smacked in the face with one of the cheesiest and most stereotypical Vegas chapels you had ever seen. Neon flashing lights, Elvis decor, cheap paint. It was amazing.

“Why the hell are we at a Chapel? Are Emily and JJ finally getting hitched?” You laughed, staring at disbelief at the building.

“Why don’t you just go inside…” Rossi instructed, waiting for you to enter the building so he could follow.

“Alright…” you responded, walking in the door and being immediately bombarded by JJ and Emily. They were in dresses, which made you even more confused.

“Come with us! You’ve gotta get ready!” JJ said, grabbing onto your arm and pulling you towards a door down the hallway.

“What is happening? Did we drink too many Margaritas at the taco place again…” you said, still being dragged against your will to a secret room.

And then you saw it. Emily opened the hideously pink painted door to a small dressing room, and in the middle was the single thing about your wedding that had gone right.

The dress. You found it a few months ago, and immediately knew it was the one. It was one of the first dresses you tried on, but you knew immediately it was the one for you.

“How did you… what is happening…”

“You’re gonna put the dress on, and then you’re gonna get married. That’s what's happening,” Emily shrugged, pushing you in the room.

“But… no… what about… and…” you stuttered, sitting down on the cigarette infused couch, the smell of stale smoke so strong it made you gag when you sat down.

“Okay, let’s not sit on that,” JJ laughed, pulling you up and away from the toxic furniture.

“I can’t get married. I’m not ready!” You protested, Emily stripping your clothes as you stood shocked.

“Just get in the dress, everything will be okay,” JJ assured you.

“No… I can’t…”

“Get in the dress, (Y/N), or I swear to God I will have to hurt you,” Emily joked, her eyes trying to be serious but a tiny smirk made it obvious.

“Fine. But I’m not happy about this.”

But then you put the dress on. And they were right. Everything made sense. You loved Spencer, and nothing mattered except marrying him, promising your life to him. The location, the guest list, the food… it didn’t matter. Your love mattered. He mattered.

“I’m ready,” you nodded, a few tears flowing down your cheek.

You walked out of the worst dressing room of all time, your dress dragging on the cheap shag carpet behind you. Emily handed you a bouquet of fake flowers, which made you and JJ laugh as you opened the doors to the chapel.

On the other end of a long red carpet was Spencer Reid, the one person you loved most in this world. He had on his suit, the one you designed in your head. You weren’t sure how he made it possible- you weren’t sure how he made any of this possible. But you couldn’t stop crying, a gush of hot tears flowing down your face as you walked anxiously down the aisle to your new forever.

“You are the most beautiful person in the world,” Spencer whispered to you, taking your hands as you reached the end of the aisle. JJ and Emily sat down next to the rest of the team, the only other guests in attendance. It was perfect, though. You couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the love between (Y/N) and Spencer,” the man said. “Thank you all for coming to this beautiful celebration. Spencer and (Y/N) have decided to share their own vows.”

“Um, I don’t have my vows,” you sighed, looking around awkwardly at the crowd.

“Should’ve memorized 'em, like I did,” Spencer winked. You rolled your eyes in annoyance, lightly shoving Spencer on the arm.

“Do we need to do all this? I mean… I know you love me. I know I love you, and I hope you know that. I know that every small thing you do makes me fall more and more in love. And I can’t imagine any day of my life without you by my side. Can’t we just skip to the I do part and get married!” You wrapped your arms around Spencer’s waist and pulled him closer.

“I just want to say one thing before I kiss the bride. Nothing has mattered more to me than you since the moment we met. I would stop the world for you if I could. I wanted to do something to take away all your stress, and although I couldn’t do it perfectly, I think this is going pretty well.” Spencer smiled goofily at you, squeezing on your hand.

“Oh, the rings!” You squealed, looking around for the small box.

“Right here,” Derek smiled, handing the box to Spencer. “Best man duties.”

Spencer slipped the metal circle around your finger, his hands shaky as he slipped it on. You grabbed his ring from the box, putting it delicately on his hand, your heart racing, still unable to process what was happening.

“Is that it?” Spencer asked excitedly, looking up at the ordained Elvis, hoping to be married already.

“Well, I have to say one thing. I now pronounce you married. You may kiss your bride!”

Spencer wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. He kissed you excitedly, his lips moving rapidly with yours.

tags: @gayprentiss @blakeprentiss @bitchyreid @spncersreid @yesimaunicorn @slutforthegubes

[pascalscenarios]

HOW TO LOVE (Marcus Pike x Reader

HOW TO LOVE

Marcus Pike x Reader  

Summary: To say thank you for helping you out last night, you take Marcus out for Lunch

Warning: None

Words: 2016

Author's Note: Hello! It’s been a hot minute! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. I’ve kinda been all over the place for the last two weeks. I finally had time to actually write! I’ll try my best to go back to posting on Saturdays/Sunday like I was. 

My Whiskey fic Common Ground, will be coming up soon pretty soon. Sorry for the wait! 

Hope you all are doing well! Enjoy! ( this chapters sorta boring sorry :( )

- K

CH 1| CH 2 | CH 3

Chapter 3

You sat at the information desk as you watched Marcus from across the lobby. The Art crime team came in early this morning. You were observing him, taking notice of how he interacts with others. He was talking to another agent. His hands were on his hips laughing about something. You wanted to say thank you again for last night, but you didn’t feel like bothering him.

You must have been staring for a while because the other agent took notice. They said something making Marcus look over his shoulder, locking eyes with you.

You were caught, but you tried to play it off as best you could. You quickly make yourself look busy, picking up a pen and writing random things down on a blank piece of paper.

Your eyes slowly glaze up seeing Marcus say something to the agent and walk towards your way. You continued writing on the paper making a fake to-do list, writing whatever popped into your mind.

“Hey” he smiled standing in front of the desk.

“Hi”

“How’s your day been for far?”

“Uh...busy!” you say, not daring to look up at him, embarrassed that he saw you staring at him. You didn’t know why you were still trying to pretend, you were caught.

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure I saw you staring at me.” he joked at you, smiling.

You felt your cheeks burn. There was no doubt you were turning red.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare...”

He chuckled. “It’s alright”

“It’s just...I.. uh...I wanted to say thank you again… you know for last night” you finally look at him, fiddling with your pen.

“Yeah, it was no problem. Did you make it home okay?”

“ I did, thanks to you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“How about you? You made it home alright?”

“Yeah, just fine...If something like that happens again, just let me know...actually-” He leans in close, grabbing the yellow sticky note from off your desk, and takes the pen that you were holding from your hands.

“Here” He quickly scribbles something down, peeling it off and handing it with the pen back to you.

You take it as he places the sticky note pad back on your desk.

You look down at what he wrote.

Marcus: 202-555-4275

He gave you his number.

“My cell phone number in case you need anything...Is that okay?” He was hoping he wasn’t overstepping.

“Yeah, thank you” you smiled.

“Alright, well I just wanted to tell you hello real quick. I’ll see you around.” With that, he smiles and makes his way towards the elevators.

Without thinking you called out his name “Marcus!”

He turns around looking at you. “Yeah?”

“Do you wanna maybe get lunch later today? My treat. It’s the least I could do since you helped me out last night.” you offered. You felt bad for the way you treated him and then he was willing to help you. You wanted to return the kind gesture.

He smiled brightly at you.

“Sure, I’ll swing by your desk at 12?”

“Yeah” “Okay, I’ll see you then!” With that, he heads on his way.

“Lunch date with Marcus Pike?” Laurie chimes in, sitting in her seat next to yours and we both watch him wait for the elevators.

You spin your chair back facing towards, Laurie following. You take the sticky note, folding it up, and stuffing it in your pants pocket. “It’s not a lunch date...more of a thank-you lunch. I got caught up in the rain last night and my car got towed while I was printing the packets out.”

“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I should have gotten those packets printed out earlier-”

“No! It’s not your fault. Everything worked out fine actually. Marcus was still around. He gave me a ride and helped me get my car back from the impound...It was really sweet honestly.”

“See he’s not so bad after all. Give him a chance dear, get to know him.”

Although you were still a little wary of him, part of you was curious to learn more about Marcus.

…

It was noon. Marcus should be coming around soon. You were working on brainstorming ideas

“You ready?” Marcus

“Sorry, just give a few minutes.”

“No worries take your time.” He says he patiently waits for you.

You head over to the office grabbing your wallet and phone from your bag. You walked back out into the desk area placing the lunch break sign out, then walking over to the short desk door, letting yourself out.

“Where do you want to go?”

“I know this good cafe that’s not far from here, it's down a block. Not too far, we can walk.”

“Okay.”

You two head over to the exit, Marcus opening the door for you. “Thanks”

He gives you a smile as you exit, following behind you. You both made your way down the steps and onto the sidewalk. Today was a nice day. It was sunny, a blue sky with patches of clouds, and a soft wind blew.

“So” Marcus begins to say.

“How are you liking D.C. so far?” he stuffs his hands in his pocket as he walks beside you.

“It’s great. I’m from Virginia actually. My family used to drive up to D.C. all the time when I was a kid.” You smile thinking about the fond memories you have.

“Ah, so you’re used to all the hustle and bustle around here…” He chuckles.

“Sorta, It's different living here than visiting. I’m from a small town so the rush 27/7 is something I need to get used to.”

“I know what you mean, I’m originally from Texas. I worked at the FBI headquarters in Austin. I’m used to the rush but D.C. is a whole different type of face pace”

“Texas? You’re pretty far from home. How come you’re out here on the east coast?” you asked.

“In Austin, I was working on local art crime cases. I got offered a promotion to run a task force here in D.C. dealing with international art crime.”

“Wow, that's great.”

“Thanks”

“How long have you lived here?”

“Couple years now.”

“Do you miss home?”

“Yeah, I do, some aspects of it, like my friends and family. I try to visit when I can, if not then phone calls and facetime are the next best thing.” He stayed silent for a few moments. “Do you miss home?” “Not really, other than my parents. I’m glad I got out of my hometown honestly. It’s like a breath of breath air.” you sighed in relief.

“Yeah, I’m kinda glad I got out of Austin. I had a fiance back home. We were supposed to start a life out here, but she ended up leaving me for another man.”

Maybe this was what Elliot meant when he said you might have something in common with Marcus… ex issues. You felt terrible that Marcus' fiance left him for another man. It reminded you of the countless times your ex cheated on you. You knew the feeling. The feeling of hurt and betrayal.

“Marcus, I’m so sorry-”

“It’s alright. It was a while ago. I’ve moved past it.” He shrugged.

“I know, but still that must have hurt.” You say sadly.

“It did, but what happened, happened. Life moves forwards. The person you’re meant to be with will come along eventually.”

Marcus was so optimistic and helpful when it came to love, unlike you. You on the other hand were fearful and scared of it.

“Here we are.”

He says stopping in front of an old brick building. You look up reading the sign outside.

Martells’

“It’s a family-owned cafe and has been here for years. They got the best sandwiches in D.C.”

…

You were slowly warming up to Marcus, starting to grow comfortable in his presence. You two sat at a table for the past hour eating lunch and talking about random things. He asked you questions about yourself. He was genuinely interested and cared about getting to know you, your hobbies, and your passions. It was strange for you, but it felt nice to be heard and even seen in a sense. Your ex never cared or seemed interested when it came to things you were interested in or liked.

Marcus told a story about his first case as an agent. He couldn’t help but laugh at his own story, poking fun of himself. A huge smile was smeared on his face, his eyes squinting as he laughed. You liked his laugh. It was that contagious.

“Oh no!” You gasped, laughing.

“They never let me hear the end of it. To this day, they still talk about it down in Austin. My old coworkers still give me shit for it when I talk to them.” He shakes his head.

“How did you even bounce back from that?”

“You didn’t…You wait until someone makes a bigger mistake, but mine was top tier. I don’t think anyone could outdo what I did, but I managed to figure out cases which took most of the attention away” He picks up his soda, taking a sip.

His phone began to ring. He pulls it out of his pocket looking at the caller ID.

“Sorry I gotta take this”

“No, of course”

“Hello?” he answers the call. “Yeah...Mhm...Shit. Okay, I’ll be there in a few.” He hands up, stuffing the phone back in his pocket.

“I’m sorry, something came up, I have to go to the FBI building.”

“I understand. I should be going back anyway.” You looked down at your watch. You lost track of time. You went over your lunch break.

The two of you stand up, throwing your trash away and exiting the cafe.

“Alright, I guess I’ll see you,” You tell Marcus.

“I’m not going anywhere yet.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him, “But you have to go??? Aren't you gonna take a cab or is someone gonna pick you up”

“Yeah I gotta go, but I’m walking you back”

“Marcus, you seriously don’t need to” You were fine walking back on your own.

“No, I’m walking with you back” He insisted.

“But-” you tried to protest.

He cuts you off “-No buts, come on”

You gave up trying to argue about it and you let him walk back with him. When you reach the museum steps you both stop.

“Thank you for lunch.”

“You’re welcome. Martells was great. You weren’t kidding when you said the sandwiches were good.”

“I told you...I had a great time. Maybe we could do lunch again some other time?”

“Yeah. I’d like that.”

“Great...I’ll see you later. I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“You too, Marcus”

You lightly wave. You make your way up the steps to the top. You look over your shoulder, seeing that Marcus was still standing. Once he sees that he reaches the top, he walks away down the sidewalk back in the direction you guys came from.

You open the entrance door walking through the lobby to the information desk. You see Elliot at the desk talking to Laurie.

“Well look you came back from her overextended lunch..” Elliot teases.

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of time-” You say as you make your way to your chair.

“It’s fine, you don’t have to apologize, especially if you were on a date with Marcus Pike!”

“How’d it go?’ Laurie asked.

“First off, It wasn't a date, it was a thank-you lunch” you addressed Elliot, “second, it was fine,” you tell Laurie.

“Fine? Just fine?” Elliot gives you a look.

“Yeah…”

“That’s it?” Elliot was expecting more.

“What do you want me to say, Elliot?”

“More than just that it was fine!”

“Elliot, Marcus, and I hardly know each other. All we did was talk. That was it.” You rolled your eyes.

“What do you think about him?” Laurie asked.

“He’s...different.”

“Different bad or Different good?” Elliot raised an eyebrow at you curious as to what your response will be.

“Good...Different good.” a smile slowly crept on your face. 

TAG // @alberta-sunrise​ @spacenerdpascal​ @ryleyrooroo​ @reader-s-cantina

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi​ @sara-alonso​ @greeneyedblondie44

[staticscreenwriting]

The loneliest time of the year || Part one

Part 1 of 4

Summary: With a broken heart and the fear of having failed as a father, Frankie returns to his parents house for Christmas. What is supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year feels quite lonely. Though when an old friend shows up unexpectedly with her young son in tow, Frankie’s Christmas seems to gain a little more happiness. Can they help each other fight the ghosts of their pasts and overcome their fears ? A/N: This is part of my 12 days of Christmas / Advent special. Every sunday leading up to Christmas you will get another part. That’s 4 parts in total. Likes, reblogs, comments are all much appreciated. 

[additional note: I am German. Sometimes I get the tense wrong or make mistakes. I am useless when it comes to punctuation. Go easy on me, please.]

Christmas time is the most depressing time of the year. Seriously, you can look that up. There’s a bunch of statistics about it and essays using long fancy words.

It’s a time that makes you so acutely aware of how lonely you actually are. And then you’re left to reflect on all the reasons why and that’s just fucking depressing. 

Frankie maneuvers his car along the streets of his hometown, a light dusting of snow covers the ground and the trees to his left and right have long sharp icicles hanging from their branches like the sharp teeth of an imaginary monster that lives under your bed. 

He passes by the old movie theatre, the 7/11, the diner where he got his first kiss, the red brick building that was once a printing house but has been turned into a Starbucks for some reason, and the public library that he used to volunteer at when he was in high school. There are ghosts in all the windows looking back at him. Ghosts of the boy he used to be and the memories he thought long forgotten.

This wasn’t the plan. He’s not supposed to be here. Or maybe he is. Maybe this is exactly what he deserves. To come crawling back home to mom and dad because the future he had tried so hard to build for himself came crumbling down on him in a matter of moments. And all of it is entirely his own fucking fault. If only he wasn’t such a damn mess.

“I'll have a blue Christmas without you

I'll be so blue just thinking about you.”

“Ah fuck off, Elvis!”

He turns off the radio and is left with just the quiet and his thoughts until the little blue house at the end of a cul-de-sac comes into view. This house has seen many versions of Frankie. Highs and lows. He wonders if he even knows the person he is anymore. 

Across the street sits a park and then another little house, this is one red and the shutters are white and the paint is chipping. It used to sit empty for a while but there’s a car in the driveway and light coming from inside. Maybe he was wrong, maybe he isn’t the only one that changed, maybe the town did a little bit of changing too. 

His mom is a hugger, always has been. Still is. At least that hasn’t changed. She has him wrapped in a warm big hug as soon as he gets out of the car. She smells the same way she did when he was a little boy. Like lavender and fresh cotton and warmth. His mom, Frankie thinks, has the ability to talk faster than anyone else he knows. Even faster than Pope when he’s drunk. She bombards him with information about various distant relatives and has him caught up on the last several years of their lives before his dad even manages to get to the door. 

His dad looks older than the last time Frankie has seen him, but not in a fragile way. Age doesn’t make his dad look sickly or weak, it just makes him look wise. He’s got lines etched into the skin around his lips, from all the laughter and the smiles. Every adventure, every memory, it’s all there in his face and Frankie admires that so much. With every day passing he himself just looks sadder and more worn out. 

“Darling, let him come inside. It’s freezing out here.”

Ever since he was little, Frankie knew that what his parents have was special. There was so much love in the way they talked with each other. It exuded from every word. From every look. They were a package deal. One could simply not be without the other. It’s something he knew most of his family members were envious of. Hell, he himself was envious of it. 

“Hey Pops, good to see you.”

His dad wraps him in a hug as he steps into the warm house. His dad isn’t a hugger, he’s more stoic and calm but that doesn’t make him any less loving. There was never a day in his life, that Frankie ever doubted his father’s love for him. It’s just that he’s not the most physically affectionate guy, and that’s fine. When he does give out hugs, they are the best.

“Did the Murphy’s house get sold then?” Frankie questions, motioning over his shoulder towards the little red house. The couple who lived there, Margaret and Edwin, were lovely. They were the kind of old people that others just adore. Always a smile on their faces, always greeting you with the most infectious of good moods. They were already old when Frankie was a kid, but they were the kind of people you’d expect to live forever. Though death doesn’t care for any of that and eventually it came for them too. The house went to their only son, a man that always intrigued Frankie. Michael was a photographer and always on the road looking for a new adventure. He was his parents' age but there was a youth about him that made him look much younger. He always seemed like more of a friend or older brother to his daughter than a father. 

His daughter. (Y/N) and Frankie weren’t friends. Not really. For that, they didn’t spend nearly enough time with each other. But whenever she would come around and spend the summers at her grandparents' place, Frankie and her would gravitate towards each other. There was an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull. She always had the most exciting stories and for a teenage boy, there was nothing more exciting than a pretty girl with adventure in her veins.

He hasn’t seen her for a long time though, eventually, she went off to college and he joined the military. She came around less and less and then when first Edwin and then Margaret died, the house stayed quiet and lonely. Last time he saw (Y/N) was when he randomly ran into her at a bar but even that must’ve been at least 10, maybe 12 years ago.

“Oh no. Their son, Michael, do you remember him?”

“Sure.”

“He had a bad accident. Can’t work no more, needs a lot of help. You know what he was like, always on the road never really having a place he called home. Other than this house. So him and his daughter are back here. Do you remember her?“

“ (Y/N), yeah.”

“She’s moved back too. Gave up her entire life to help her father. Poor thing now works at the diner waiting tables for a living all the while taking care of Michael and her young son.”

“She has a kid?”

A sting of pain runs through his heart. Big brown eyes stare up at him in his mind, eyes that look so much like his. Eyes he couldn’t wait to see sparkling from joy on Christmas morning. Eyes he ain’t allowed to look into anytime soon.

“Yes, a little boy. Leo, he’s 7 years old. So well behaved and smart. Such a lovely little boy.”

A warm mug of coffee is thrust into Frankie’s hand as his father guides him to sit down on the big couch in the living room that’s been there ever since he was a kid. 

“We invited them to come around for Christmas Eve dinner which reminds me that I still need to get a present for the boy.”

“Darling, it’s December 5th we still got time.”

Despite his heart laying in shambles by his feet, being around his parents sends a warmth through Frankie. It’s so familiar and comforting to be here. Maybe this isn’t all bad. Maybe this is exactly what he needs. 

On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me: One sweet reunion.

Frankie sits on his old bed in his old room. There are fewer posters there and the wall that used to be painted a dark blue is now a soft peach color. The old dark wood furniture has been replaced by white cupboards and two beds, both white too. An adult-sized bed for him and a toddler bed for Rosie. Little butterfly decals decorate the walls and soft pink curtains hang before the window. This is more Rosie’s room that’s his now, only she isn’t here to see it. 

A knock on the door shakes him from his daydream. Voices echo through the halls and up the stairs. Voices he doesn’t recognize but by the tone in his mother’s words, he can tell they’re friendly faces.

“So we thought maybe we could borrow your car.”

Frankie sees her before she sees him. Had he not knows she was in town, maybe he wouldn’t have recognized her. (Y/N) looks older. Not old. Just more mature. She must be in her 30s now. Grown into her body. A mother.

“Of course dear, Frankie can help you get the tree if you want. We still need one ourselves anyway. Two birds one stone.”

“Frankie is home?” 

(Y/N)’s voice shines with a glimmer of hope. 

“I am.”

A smile spreads on her face, and that one he recognizes so well. It’s equal parts mischievous and warm. Familiar and comforting. Sassy and soft. 

“Oh man, it’s so good to see you. It’s been some time, huh ?”

“Sure has,” he replies and the two of them share a quick hug. She’s cold from the air outside and smells like winter and snow. Her hair is hidden beneath a beanie and her fingers are kept warm by some fluffy blue mittens. She’s adorable. So fucking adorable.

“So, you want help getting your Christmas tree?” Frankie asks as she pulls away, missing the softness she brought.

“Well actually I was just asking to use your dad’s car but since you’re here, would you mind helping out ?”

“ Course not! We need a tree anyway and I’ll have you know, I’m great at finding the best Christmas trees.”

“That so?”

“Sure is.”

Another big smile spreads on (Y/N)’s lips. “Okay cool. Let me know when you’re ready. Leo and I are free all day.”

“That’s right, you have a kid now.”

There’s an infinite sense of pride that washes over her face. He knows the feeling, sees it in his own mother when she talks about him. Feels it in his heart when he thinks of Rosie.

“Frankie has a baby too, little girl.”

His mother means well. Doesn’t matter though, the mention of her still sends a pant of pain through him. Right to his heart and then it spreads slowly but surely to the rest of his body. Like an ice pick melting slowly.

“You do? Oh, I can’t wait to meet her.”

His heart breaks. Shatters. Crumbles. 

“She’s uh — she’s with her mom for Christmas.” And pretty much any other day too.

“Huh, well I guess you’ll just have to tell me all about her then. “ 

He appreciates this. Her not asking but just taking the situation for what it is. Questions ask for answers he can’t give, doesn’t want to give.

“I can do that.”

“Okay great. Let me bother you no longer, just come knock on our door when you’re ready. You know where I live.”

With a wave and a smile, she makes her exit and steps back into the cold. Snow now falling in big white flakes from the skies, like big bubbles of soap. Like star fragments.

“She’s such a nice young woman, I wish life was a bit more gentle on her. “ his mom spoke up from beside Frankie. 

“Yeah. Yeah, me too mom. Me too.”

When he steps out of the house a few hours later, the ground is already covered in a thick coat of fluffy snow. His boots leave deep prints in the pristine white blanket. 

Across the street, he can hear a melody of laughter flowing through the air before two figures jump out from behind the house, wrapped in warm clothes, throwing snowballs at each other.

“Mom you’re cheating!” The young boy, Leo calls out, laughter ringing along with his words.

“No way! Nu-uh.”

“Yu-uh! “

The exchange puts a smile on Frankie’s face. It reminds him of his own childhood. When the world didn’t feel like it was working against him. When it was kind. When things were easy. When he was happy.

Realizing neither of the two has spotted him yet, Frankie squats down and gathers some snow in his glove covered hands. In a swift motion, he pulls his arm back and throws the snow in (Y/N)’s direction hitting her right in between her shoulders. 

“Hey!”

There’s a second where anger and confusion reign over her face and then she realizes it’s Frankie who threw the snowball and it melts into warmth and mischief.

“I’ll get you back for that, dude. “

“That a threat?”

“Nah, it’s a promise.”

The boy regards them with careful curiosity. 

“Leo, come here. This is my friend Frankie.”

To be quite honest, Frankie hadn’t really considered himself a friend of (Y/N) but to hear her introduce him as such felt real nice. He had friends, good friends, brothers even. Pope and the Millers knew him like the knee themselves but this was different. This was home.

“Frankie, this is my son Leo.”

The boy is all (Y/N). Same smile, same eyes. Like a copy and paste.

“Hey, Leo, nice to meet you.”

The boy gives him a shy wave. “Hi.”

“You guys ready to get some Christmas trees?” Frankie asked, looking from (Y/N) to Leo and back to her. The excitement on their faces makes him feel a little giddy. 

Back when he was a kid, buying a tree was one of his favorite things to do during Christmas season. His dad always used to wake him up real early so they could be one of the first people at the Christmas tree sale. They’d stay for hours looking for the perfect tree. Now perfect didn’t mean it had to be actually immaculate. Perfect meant perfect for them. Sometimes they’d decide to find the fastest one or the one with the biggest hole. One time they found one with a bird's nest still inside. 

Those were the good times and Frankie, knowing now how harsh life can be, will never take them for granted.

On the second day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Two perfectly imperfect Christmas trees.

“Too big.”

“Too small.”

“I can literally count the branches on one hand.”

(Y/N), Frankie realizes as they look at what feels like the 12 millionth tree, is very particular when it comes to her Christmas trees. 

“Mom, can we just pick one? They’re all good!” Leo chimes up as his mother dismisses yet another tree for being too skinny.

“I just want it to be perfect. When I was a little girl my dad and I were always traveling and when we’d come to my grandparents for Christmas they’d have this big beautiful tree every year. I want my dad to have that again.”

There’s more there, he can tell. By the way, her voice shakes slightly and the determination and chaos raging in her eyes. Frankie has yet to find out what exactly happened to her dad, what kind of accident he got in. But it’s not really a conversation starter now, is it?

Leo’s eyes meet Frankie's, a clear message traveling between them. A silent understanding. 

“Look (Y/N) how about we let you roam this place in peace until you’ve found the perfect tree and Leo and I go see if we can find one for my parents? “

Leo nods his head in enthusiastic approval. A smile playing on his lips that is so strikingly similar to the one Frankie has seen so many times on the boy's mother.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, two of us are gonna find a perfectly imperfect tree for my folks and you go find the tree of your dreams. Just call if you need us, okay?”

She takes a breath, lets out a sigh. “Okay sounds good. Leo?”

“Sounds good to me too, mom.”

“Okay. Well, you boys have fun then.”

As she rounds the corner in search of the tree straight from a Christmas fairytale, Frankie turns to Leo who regards him with a guarded kindness.

“Thank you. “

“ For what? “ Frankie asks and raises his eyebrow in confusion.

“ For not making fun of my mommy. She’s so worried about grandpa, sometimes she goes a bit crazy.” 

“ Nah she’s not crazy. She just wants to make everyone happy. Why would I make fun of her? Did someone make fun of her? “ 

It sends a flash of anger through him, the idea that someone might ridicule her for caring too much. If anything it’s what makes her so endearing. The world could do with more people like her. People who care. Deeply. 

“ She talked to my daddy on the phone yesterday. I think he made fun of her. She cried. “ 

“ That’s — that’s not nice.” 

Leo shrugs his shoulders in a way that seems casual but weary. As if he’s so used to it. Geez, the kid is 7. This isn’t something he should be used to.

“ Dad is not a nice person. Mama always says he’s busy and that he wants to see me but I don’t think that’s right. I think mama just doesn’t want me to be sad. I think daddy doesn’t really want to see me. Don’t think he loves me. But that’s okay mama loves me so much that’s enough. “

Leo’s words sent small cracks to Frankie’s heart and it’s quite hard not to let it crumble entirely. He’s never known what it feels like to be unloved by those that are meant to love you most. His parents adored him, still do. Even when he doesn’t deserve it. He can’t even begin to understand how much that must hurt. How devastating it must be, especially to a 7-year-old. 

And yet Leo looks so — at peace. Like it bothers him sure, but it’s no big deal really.

Because he is loved either way. By (Y/N).

“ You’re a cool kid, you know that? “ Frankie asks and pats the young boy’s back in a friendly manner.

“ Mom says so. “ 

“ Well, she’s completely right. You really are. Now, you wanna help me find a tree? “ 

Leo nods enthusiastically.

“ Okay cool, but I’ll have to tell you how it works. “ 

“ We don’t just look for one we like?”

“ Oh no, you see the Morales family has a very specific tradition. Each year my dad and I go looking for a special tree. “ 

“ A special one? “ 

“ Mmmh. We always think of something special and then try to find a tree that fits that special thing. One time we tried to find the tallest tree on the lot or the widest or the skinniest. “

“ So what are we looking for this year? “

“ How abouuut … we look for one that has two tops? “ 

A giggle falls from Leo’s lips. “ That’s silly, that’s not a thing. “ 

“ Sure it is. You wanna go look for it? “ 

“ Yeah.”

There are big trees and small ones. Ones in shades of greens and some that look almost blue. There are fat ones with lots of branches and skinny ones that look like they’ve seen better days. None of them have two peaks though — until … 

“ Frankie, look !” 

His small, glove-covered hand is outstretched, pointing towards a tree before him. It’s a big tree, wide too. It’s blueish green color shines through the white haze of the winter's day. 

And true to Leo’s words, the stem of the tree goes halfway up before it diverges into two different branches. Two tops.

“ That one’s perfect! “

“ He’s special! “ 

“ He is special. Good job, kid. “ 

The two share a high 5 as a laugh sounds from behind them.

“ I see you boys are getting along well. “ (Y/N) says as she approaches the two of them, placing a kiss on her son’s head as she reaches him.

“ We found a special tree, mom.”

“ Did you? Well so did I, it’s perfect. “ 

Her eyes wander towards Frankie’s and for a second it’s only the two of them there, veiled in shared understanding, a silent thank you. 

“ I’m glad you found your tree, (Y/N). “ 

“ I’m glad you two had fun. Now hooow about we get those trees home and set up? “ 

“ Can we have hot cocoa at home, momma? “ 

“ Duh. Of course. You can’t decorate a Christmas tree without a good hot cup of cocoa.” 

The softness in her voice, the pure adoration she holds for this boy, it makes Frankie think back to Leo’s words about his father and about (Y/N). About how she loves him enough for the both of them. And he can see it, clear as day. Her love for Leo. 

Those two, he thinks, don’t need anyone. Especially not someone who doesn’t treat them with the love and respect they deserve. Those two are their own warmth, their own little universe. And it’s enough. It’s plenty. Everyone who’s allowed to be a part of their little world should be grateful because it’s a good world. It’s gentle and kind. 

“ Alright you two, let’s get those trees home. “ Frankie pipes up and for a moment he is part of their little universe too. And it’s wonderful. He doesn’t wanna let go of this feeling. How anyone ever could is entirely beyond him.

On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me: Three mugs of cocoa.

Bobby Helms’ voice echoes through the room accompanied by the soothing crack of a vinyl record. It’s an old one, one (Y/N) has found in a box of her grandparent’s stuff. Jingle Bell rock fills the air with a sense of excitement and wonder only a good old Christmas song can bring.

There are 3 cups of cocoa on the table, one of them in a Star Wars mug. It all feels warm and cozy. Homey. And for the first time since he’s back, Frankie doesn’t feel out of place. He doesn’t feel like a stranger watching through the window into someone else's life. Someone familiar. Someone he once knew. Someone he once was.

Right now he feels like he’s right where he’s meant to be. With friends who chose him. A family that lets him into their lives and willingly shares a piece of their kindness and warmth and magic with him. Not because they are bound to him by blood, by shared trauma. Just because they like him, as he is.

(Y/N) and Frankie sit on the old leather couch that’s been there in this same living room for so many years. One that has seen different versions of (Y/N). Some of him too.

In the corner of the room, across from the big window leading out into a snowy dreamland, stands a perfect Christmas tree. (Y/N)’s perfect tree. It’s decked out in lights and ornaments and tinsel. Leo hops around the tree, adding yet more ornaments here and more tinsel there, a big smile on his face the entire time.

And as she watches her son relish in the pure unfiltered joy only a child really knows, (Y/N) smiles too. Because sometimes this is what it means to be happy, seeing your loved ones smiling. 

“ Thank you, Frankie. “ she says, eyes still locked on her son. 

“ For what? “ 

It’s the second time that day that he is being thanked and for what? For being there? Really he hasn’t done much. This is what friends do, isn’t it? What they should do. Help each other out. Be there for one another. 

“ For playing along with my crazy antics. I know it’s just a tree but I just want this Christmas to be — to be good. For me and for Leo and for my dad. We haven’t had the best year and I just want to make this perfect for us. Or as perfect as possible. Thanks for not letting me see how annoying I was back at the tree sale. “

Frankie shakes his head dismissively. “ You weren’t being annoying. I get it, don’t worry. Leo, he uh — he said something similar to me earlier. Said his dad made fun of you? Made you cry. “ 

(Y/N) lets out a scoff, curls her lips in an unamused smirk. “ Derek’s a — “ her eyes trail towards her son who pays the two adults no mind “ — he’s such a dick. Always has been. But he was suave and he had a motorcycle and I just kind of fell for his bad-boy charms. He’s unreliable though and a goddamn child. When I told him about Leo he bailed on us. Sometimes he tries to be a dad, whenever he gets one of his moods and feels like he needs to turn his life around. Those don’t last very long though. He sends birthday gifts and Christmas presents and he calls every once in a while but — well his interest in Leo isn’t all that big. “ 

“ What an asshole. Why’d he make you cry? “ 

“ Ugh, it wasn’t really any particular thing, just an amalgamation of so many. He was making me feel stupid because of the tree thing. He was being dismissive of my feelings. He didn’t want to talk to Leo. It was just his entire mood that day that once again made me realize why I ended things with him in the first place. And it isn’t fair. It really isn’t. That I have to work twice as hard to be a good parent because I have to fill both roles and he gets off scot-free. Not even a guilty conscience. How am I ever gonna be able to play both roles and play them well? How can I do that? I feel like I am failing already. “ 

“ Are you kidding me? “ Frankie says and softly nudges her shoulder with his “ You’re a great mother. You’re fun, you’re loving. What else could Leo want? (Y/N) you are doing an incredible job, trust me. Little mistakes you make that might seem big to you, they really don’t matter to Leo. Not now and especially not in the long run. He’s gonna remember the good times. The snowball fights and the hot cocoa and the tree decorating. Those are the little moments that will become memories. “ 

“ You think so ? “ 

“ I know so. It’s what I remember about my childhood. And it’s uh — it’s what Leo told me. He said that his dad might not be around but that it doesn’t matter because you love him twice as much. Said that’s plenty enough. The boy loves you. You’re a wonderful mom. “

He forbids his mind from going to that dark corner where he’s banished all his own fears. Those that whisper to him in quiet moments. About how his shortcomings, his mistakes, his faults, how all of that will stain his relationship with Rosie. His ability to be a good father. 

Lord knows he wishes his daughter was here now. Maybe not in this exact moment, a toddler really ain’t much help when setting up a tree. But here. In his arms. With him. During Christmas time. He fears that she never will be. That the times he gets to see her will become few and far between. That he will one day only be a distant memory to her because he ain’t ever given the chance to make any good ones with her.

His heart aches from how much he misses his little girl at that moment. But he has to remind himself not to wallow in it. Because once he goes there, lets himself fall into this big black hole of grief and of missing and of fear, there’s no coming back.

So he looks back at the people around him, at their soft smiles and the Christmas lights reflected in their eyes. Shining with happiness. Shining with joy.

And as the snow falls softly outside, he tries to focus on the warmth in this room. The warmth from the fire and from the hearts so soft and so filled with love. 

Because he’d rather get lost in a beautiful dream than the sad reality of his fears. 

[chemicallady]

Matching

Greg Sanders x Reader!

A/N: Hi everyone! Have you ever noticed that there are not enough Greg Sanders fanfiction in the world? I have looked for some for a while, but nothing. Now, stop complaining and let's have fun togheter, this is my first Greg Sanders x Reader! I hope you will like it! Besos! 

 Couple: Greg Sanders/Female!Reader 

Category: Fluff 

Content Warning: // 

 Summary:  this is the first time Greg tries to find love with an app. Who knows whohe  is gonna meet with a cyber matching?

  ***

Las Vegas, October 5th 2015 

The last month was rough for him. Many things had changed forever. Nick had resigned from the team, Sarah decided to take a break after a big promotion in order to restore her relationship with Grissom, Catherine is back to her position as the leader of the night shift. 

Russell is moving on with his life and Finn is gone. Forever. No matter how much his tried to save her life or they prayed for her, she is gone. 

Greg is not confortable with big changes. For the first time in forever he is feeling like he is flooting. Dr Robbins said that is normal, in a moment like this one, in which he has escaped the death again, to feel this way.

«Maybe you need a fresh new start.»

Everyone is starting something, whatever. Nick is a boss now, Sarah is happy with her ex husband and former director of the lab. Even Hodges is living the moment, with a new girlfriend. 

«He met her on a website», Henry said to Greg during a coffee break. 

He laughted, then he used this information against Hodges. 

«It isnt a website... I am not dating a russian wife!»

Greg smirked, «No more girls interested in your Visa after the italian one?»

«Shut the fuck up, Sanders. Nowdays is normal using dating app. You should try and stop wasting my time!»

****

He didnt download Tinder only because Hodges suggested it. 

Of course.

He decided to try the app only to dimostrate that is a poor life choice. 

But the amounth of time he have spent in looking at girls profiles is already too much to look credible. Furthermore, Lindsay have noticed him swapping girls away and she giggled amused. «You should try to go on a date. Dont tell my mom, but I met a guy once, on Tinder. He was really awsome, but he was a tourist. An advice, always take a loool if she is a resident!»

And he followed her suggestion, making the opposite. Just to have some fun. 

There are many people who only are in Vegas for having fun and even if was cool, meeting girls who only want a one night stand, after three or four date started to make him feel bored. 

He always talk a little about is job, fake interesting in the girl’s plan for her vacation and everything ending in the morning. 

So he decided to try something else. 

A serious date, for once. 

***

He is exploring your profile since the moment you two matched. He is fascinating by your (y/e/c) eyes in the profile picture. You look smart but gentle at the same time. No mention to the fact that even if you are linving in Vegas, you are from (you hometown/nation) and you are a PhD candidate in Archaelogy. 

You dont look like the other girls he met in the last period. You are a student, a really good one. You have a picture in front of Columbia University, which you attended for your MSc and graduated.

So you are not only smart, but really intelligent. 

You have those beautiful (y/h/c) hair and a gentle smile. 

So he picks all his courage and writes you a simple ‘hi’. 

You dont answer immediatly, even if you have read the message. So Greg closes the app with disappointed. Well. It’s proved. You cant find love in one of this app. 

He decides that is far better to start with the awfull pile of documents on the desk, before is too late. Or to early, depends by the point of view. 

*** 

He had finished with paperwork around 7 am and so he decided to go home.

In the moment he enters the living room, he feels so lonely. It’s happening quite often in the last period. He kicks his shoes away and sits on the sofa, taking a deep breath. With his eyes close, he starts to thing about the last serious date and its look like a century ago.

And it was a complete failure.

Everytime he fell for a girl is always the same old story. Firstly, amazing. Then a mess because of his job.

But he doesn't have to change is life only because he feels the emptiness of his house. He has worked so much to achieve this results and now...

Now? What he has? A good position in an horrible schedule shift. An amazing group of team mates - unfortunately Hodges is still working in the materials lab, but who cares- but no social life. No family. He is 40 now and he was looking for a 25 years girl.

So silly.

So stupid.

But what's is even silliest? Losing himself in those throughs instead of sleep. He has his shift starting at 11 pm, but he has the laudary to do. And he need to clean the apartment. Is full of dust.

****

After seven hours sleeping, he feels himself far more positive. It's around 2 pm when he wakes up and start with the laudary. He gets a look on the phone and answer to Morgan under a pic on facebook, than he notices that he has a new notification on Tinder.

He is so surprise when he realises that is you.

-who wrote 'hi' at 4.30 in the morning?-

He blushes a little, thinking about it. It was really early and he hasnt realised it.

-someone who is working at night...?-

The answer is not the best. But you are smart and you bring a good observation.

-like a hooker?-

He laught a little, rising his elbow.

-sorta. But not so well paid.-

Making fun of the hookers is not a good way to start a conversation, but someway, it works. You two share some messages and then you give your phone number to him.

You are free tomorrow for lunch, even if is unusual meeting someone with the sun in the sky, in Vegas.

And he is totaly down.

***

Is strange for you to go on a date with someone you don't know. But it is even strangest go for a lunch date. It's look so formal to you, but the guy in the profile pic looks potentially awsome. You have read from his description that he works for the Clark Country Police Department and this is a hot detail: you have a thing for cops.

You dressed nicely for the lunch inside The Venice's restaurant. Classy choice by the way. But not elegant because is 12 am. You also decide to go easy on your make up, because after this date you have to help in teaching a bacherlo class and you are hoping that you won't have enough time to change, after the meal.

So here we go.

In front of the restaurant.

You look around and see a figure a couple of meters away from you. He is pretty tall and with dark blonde hair. He is also well dressed, better then you, but not formal.

Your glazes meet in the middle of the atrium and you both smile embarrassed. He is the first one to move some steps near to you.

《Hi. You are (y/n)?》

《Yes. And you must be Greg.》

You shake his hand and then catch his invitation to enter in the restaurant first. The waiter reserved you a nice place on the balcony. The cannel is fake, not even similar to the Italian one, but is romantic.

One score for Greg.

《What would you like to eat?》, he asked so politely that you can't help yourself, but smile back.

《I thing I'll go with a sandwich for lunch》

《Nice choice, I am down. Wine?》

《Sorry, but I have a class in the afternoon...》

This time he is smiling. 《Then water for two.》

He is so kind. He decides to drink water because you can't drink wine. This is another score.

After you two have made your orders, it's time for questions.

《Do you usually meet people this way?》, je asks, nicely. Even if there is no accusation in the tune of his voice, you blush a little.

《It's not the first time, but I am still a skeptical, by the way.》

《Why?》

《Because I've met only morons on Tinder. 》 You try your best smile. 《Hope you are not one of them.》

《I share this hope with you》, he jokes. 《I am looking for your verdict at the end of the meal, so.》

You both laught. Is a nice company and the tension is going away.

《So you are a cop?》

《Not exactly. I work for the crime like as a crime scene investigator.》

You looked impressed. 《Sounds amazing but hard at the same time. I am asking to my self you an awsome guy like you is still single.... is for your job?》

This time is Greg the one who blushes. 《Yes is really... It takes most of my time. Someday all of my time.》

《I can relate》, you say. 《I am not cool as you are, I don't save people for live, neither I am good in puzzle but... I work on field so I spend several weeks abroad. Sometimes even a month or two and when I come back...》

《...You have the feeling that everyone is carries on with his life but you are static》 he ends your statement. 《Yes, you can relate, totaly.》

You two share a smile and then he starts to ask you some questiom about your job, your position at the UNLV and stuffs.

In the end, after a sweet fight, he insists to pay the meal, but you put on the table the tips.

《It was really nice 》, you say and he agrees. 《We should do that again. What's your spare night?》

《Monday》 he aswers, immediately 《If my boss wont tell me otherwise.》

《If you are agree, you can see eachother again on Monday, so.》

《It will be amazing.》

Another smile and a little silence. You have no idea of what to do now. Is too soon for a kiss, but an hand shake would be awful. So you decide to come closer to him and kiss his cheek. Is so cute the way he blushes again. Greg is near now and you can feel his breath on your lips. For him, is not too soon. He gently puts a hands on you hip and drag you into a soft kiss.

The best way to end a good date.

****

《So how is she?》

After two weeks dating, Greg decides to tell the guys about you.

Terrible idea.

《She is so nice!》 He starts excited, while Catherine is laught, shaking is head and look at David Philips in the classical 'told ya' way. 《She is beautiful and gentle. She is also tremendously determinate. More than anything, she is so intelligent and her smell is amazing.》

《She can cook?》, Super Dave asks, joking.

《Everything you can say, she can do it. Is incredible. She speaks like five languages and is so sexy in bed.》

《This information is not necessary 》 is Catherine's comment.

But Dave wants to prove a point now. 《....She speaks five languages in bed or it was not correlated?》

《Guys, we are on a crime scene.》

The two boys share a small smile and wait for Russell to be far enough. So Dave asks one last question. 《Are you only fancy her... or maybe you are already in love?》

Greg thinks about it for a couple of second. 《I am already fucked.》

Dave laughs, 《of couse you are.》

[footballxwrites]

Ridiculously in love with your writing so giving another one😂

So read reports that Christian pulisic maybe going back to the bundesliga to play for Bayern so maybe you could write one on that where he feels guilty for not having been able to probably make it work in Chelsea. He’s been with his fiance since they were like 12 and she’s a British citizen and an arsenal fan so she was definitely the happiest when they moved to london as because she runs her own company and their main office is in London. Christian feels like a crap fiancé also because now she’ll have to travel up and down every other week like she did when they were in Dortmund, and she’s done and sacrificed so much for him and he couldn’t even make it work so she can be in her hometown for once and also be with her family, plus they’re looking to start a family so this travelling business and not having grandparents around the corner isn’t ideal either. With all this plus not starting games plus family stuff weighing him down, he starts to be distant from her and she obviously notices. She gives him a bit of space at the beginning but then quickly realises that they should talk about it like they always have in their relationship. So she brings it up and he lets out everything and she’s like “ don’t be stupid, I want the best for your career and if that’s in freaking Finland well go there, you’ve had a tough year and not the ideal start to your time at Chelsea ans that’s okay. Everyone has set backs but we need to make a comeback so we’re gonna do what’s best for you and then go from there. Europe is small and London to Munich or wherever it is isn’t too bad at all, plus you know I genuinely like travelling for work. And when the kids come we’ll just figure out a schedule that puts them first and have you seen our parents, they’re gonna be coming and seeing us all the time. It’s fine, we’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be just fine” and then Christian is just crying by then because how did he get so lucky blah blah blah... can’t wait for this one xxxxxx

Long Distance Love ♡

𝖧𝖺𝗁𝖺 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎! 𝖨 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗊𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖨 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 (𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗅)...𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂𝗌 𝖨 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗅𝗅 𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗌𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝖾 😅𝗑

January 10 2021

Suddenly, you felt him stir slightly, readjusting his arms that were snaked around your body, which made your head shoot up to gaze at him, seeing his eyes fluttering open and a lazy smile creep upon his lips as he leaned into a kiss. His arms were quick to pull your waist against his so your head was flat on his chest, listening to the peaceful sound of his heartbeat, instantly making you feel at home. You little moment was cut short when his phone went off and he rushed out the room with a groan, leaving you annoyed and your heart pounding, having a feeling you knew exactly what the phone call was about, hoping he come back and give you the answer you wanted to hear...

“It’s gone through...the transfer” he sorrily spoke, making your breath hitch in your throat, although knowing it was a high possibility of the move actually happening, a part of you was certain he’d be staying here in central London for at least another year. “Guess you’d better get packing then” you softly laughed, feeling disheartened to say the least, the words of “it’s happening” not being the ones you wanted to fall from his lips, “look can we talk about this properly-“ he began, reaching for your hand as you swiftly dodged his grip and made your way to the bathroom, ready for a complete meltdown about everything, “No I have to get ready for work...while I still have my own business” you trailed off, letting the door close behind you with a slam...

————————————————

January 2 2019

"The real question is, how did I get so lucky?" you giggled before he gently pushed the mug of coffee into your hands while leaning in to plant a small kiss on your forehead. Instantly, that warm feeling flew through your body just from the smallest, loving touch he gave you, it never getting old. “Good morning, beautiful." he mumbled against your lips, before wrapping his arms around your neck and resting his head on top of yours, “and a very good morning to you handsome” you smiled, feeling the most relaxed you’ve felt in a while, lifting your gaze to him, love dancing in your eyes as you leaned in to clasp your mouths together.

"Kissing you never gets old," you mutter softly as you both pull away, Christian flashing you a cheeky grin before spotting his luggage packed and ready for the off beside the front door of your new complex, a sigh falling from his lips, “can’t believe I arrived here a week ago and I’m already flying back to Germany” he frowned, pulling a pout. “It’s only six months and it’ll be over before you know it, I’m not going to lie I will miss living over there, especially the weather” you giggled, messing up his perfectly gelled hair to which you got no thanks for, “hands off, this took ages to do” he said, pretending to be serious and grabbing your hand as if to say ‘go on do it again I dare you’. “I’m gonna miss you, the apartment’s gonna seem empty without you here...and it means I have to build all the flat pack furniture from IKEA myself” you huffed, pointing at the hundreds of cardboard boxes filling the spacious room as he laughed, culling your face and running a finger along your cheek, “you’ll be fine, we’ll FaceTime every night and whenever we have a minute spare because you’re gonna be busy as hell now...my super business woman” he winked as you shook your head, still not quite believing you actually own a company, like a whole ass company belonged to you and it was mad to just even picture it.

“Ah shut up, you’re making me blushing Mr Pullisic, now go before you miss that flight of yours” you grinned, going in for one last peck while shoving him out the door with a struggle, feeling like his clingy self wasn’t ever gonna leave, “I love you, see you in half a year” he happily said, grabbing his many cases and walking out, letting the door gently fall closed...

——————————————————

July 1 2019

The classic iPhone ping went off as an incoming text message lit up your phone screen, instantly opening the pic attachment of him saying ‘en route’ which meant he was on his way and by god you couldn’t wait to just see him in person after all this time. He barely got through the front door before you took a leap, linking your legs around his torso as his hands secured under your thighs to carry your weight. Squeezing him tight, you rested your head in the crook of his neck, enjoying his presence as a laugh escaped his lips, “missed me just a bit?” he stupidly asked, not even bothering to let you answer before smashing his lips on yours for the first time what felt like in forever.

Gently tapping your legs, he slowly placed you feet on the ground and then cupped your face, pulling you in for another long, loving kiss, “so how’s everything been then, and by the way you’ve done a good job decorating this place” he nodded, eyes gazing at all the modern interior, “funny you asked, I managed to open two more branches this week, one in Gateshead up north and the other in Manchester!” you exclaimed letting out a small squeal, not able to control your excitement any longer as his eyes went wide with joy. “I didn’t think you could make me any prouder but I guess I was wrong eh” he gushed, heading over to sort out his cases, “I’m saying the same about you” you laughed as he pulled out a couple man of the match awards along with a jersey signed by all the teammates. “It felt strange to say goodbye to them after all these years...but it’s time for a fresh start, here in London with Chelsea Fc and with you” he whispered, excited for the new chapter in your lives to finally begin.

——————————————————

The next year could only be described as perfect for the both of you, his career taking off and loving every moment at the club, getting along with everyone in the dressing room and then loving the fans and atmosphere within the stadium, and knowing you were in the stands somewhere cheering on your ‘captain America’ made it all the more special. As for you, your company was doing beyond amazing, going from National to world wide, owning buildings in Dubai, Spain and you’ll never guess where, Germany. Your main branch was of course London, where the company was founded and to which was the office you managed and were based at, meaning you rarely visited the abroad ones but you weren’t complaining, with you being a London gal to be in your home city with your own bloody business was unimaginable, not to mention you were only a 20 mins drive from your family.

Oh yeah and he popped the question about four months into the move on your eight year anniversary which you of course said yes to, already having planned out your dream wedding, the pair of you agreeing to have it here rather than America with work and travel and all that malarkey.

For the first time in ages, it all seemed to be coming together for yous...

———————————————————

January 10 2021

8 hours later and the two of you hadn’t spoken all day, with him going off to what you assumed was his last training session and proceeding to ignore you and your many questions, you decided to go to work too, trying to get this whole moving countries once again after only one fucking year back home thing off your mind.

“Right that’s it, you’re going to talk to me Christian because you must think I’m a mind reader or something and I can just tell what’s going in in that brain of yours” you said, stumbling through the door and throwing your keys in the side before throwing yourself on the sofa beside your sad looking boyfriend. “I’m sorry” was all he could say, looking down at the ground leaving you with a confused frown on your face, “enough with the apologies, I just want to know what this means, for us” you sighed, placing a hand on his cheek and giving it a small pinch, hoping it’d put a smile on his lips.

“Well I’m definitely leaving Chelsea, guess not everything works out...but it means I’m back off to Germany” he said as you slowly nodded, “you have to do what’s best for your career, ok?” you smiled, running a hand through his hair as he was quick to shake his head, “no I can’t. I don’t wanna leave you, not again. And anyways we’re supposed to be trying for a baby and that’s going to be a challenge if we’re in different countries don’t you think?” he’s spoke with a slight laughter. “I’m not arguing with you Pullisic, go and sign that contract and get yourself away to Germany to revive your job. I’m not saying I’m going to drop everything and move again because I have my work and life, but I can easily fly out and visit, you’re forgetting I have an office over there. As for kids, we’ll get to that part when it comes around...so just take one step at a time and get on the phone to your agent to tell him you’re taking the transfer” you blurted out with a soft smile, knowing exactly what you were saying and that this was just another step in your life, at the end of the day, life isn’t life without it’s challenges along the way...❤️

———————————————

If you got this far reading it, I hope you enjoyed it! x

@kingkepa @champagne-coys @footballcloud @footballmagical @alexajanecollins @masonmounts @hoely-pavard @hazardybala @jamesmaddiscnx

[hunting-winchester]

My thoughts on the finale

(Sorry, this ended up being soooo much longer than I intended, but it was also therapeutic for me to get it out, so if you read it all, sorry again, but thanks!)

I’ve been sitting on this for the past week trying to sort through my feelings about all of this. But the finale of Supernatural, while it did make me cry because my comfort show for the past 3 years (has it really only been 3 years since I started this side blog?) has ended, which was my distraction from the deaths of not only close family but also a friend whose death still affects me today. The newer seasons helped me more in the dealing with death, and I’ll explain that later, but I feel like the end of the show kind of took all of that and threw it out the window with a note that states “we don’t care.”

I’m not here to be mad at the actors. I know none of this is their fault. They did their best to make a great end to a show that was written for them. Their acting was spot on and made me feel for the characters that both them and I love so much. However, the ending took that love and put it through the grinder and I do put most (if not all) the blame on the network.

So I binged Supernatural in the summer of ‘17 within a month. I started it because I remembered my mom watching an episode when I was about 7 or 8 and I was so fascinated by it (episode Route 666 where Dean hangs up on Sam after the ghost truck disappears because Sam had a hunch that the truck couldn’t drive on hallowed ground. Dean didn’t like the idea that it was just a hunch, sticks in my mind). Within the first 5 episodes I was in love with the boys, and while I loved them both I became drawn to Dean over the next few seasons. Now I love them both, but like many others I started to see myself in him. Some anger issues with a heart so big that he would do anything to help his family. And a little bit of self depreciation that starts to escalate a bit more as the seasons go on.

Then I made it to Lazarus Rising. I met this absolute badass character who later becomes part of the family. He grows into the most kind hearted character that tries to do everything in the name of good, even when it tends to go a little off the rails. Then I saw a little bit of me in him as well. Good intentions, sometimes misguided, and only wants the best for the ones he loves.

I’ll focus more on the season I was here live for, not because the earlier seasons didn’t matter but because this is where things became really personal in my life. Supernatural 13 started on October 12, and on the 23rd I lost my friend. Everything started falling apart around me and nothing made sense. Nothing made sense about why them because it should be the terrible people that die terrible deaths, not good people. And while nothing seemed right in the world, I knew one thing for sure- that Supernatural will still be on just as scheduled and nothing could take that from me. So I made sure to still find time to watch that episode because I’ll be damned if I let this whole week go to hell. Let me find at least one good thing to happen. And while the scene didn’t fix the shitshow that became my life that week, a little bit of happiness raised in me when I saw Cas in the last scene of the episode.

So especially from that point on the show became of my little world away from reality. My reality sucked and, sure the Winchester’s lives weren’t all sunshine and rainbows, it was a nice distraction for an hour a week when I can watch the characters I care about continue to keep loving the ones they love.

The season continued then ended with a nice lead into season 14. I love Jensen and was ready to see how he would tackle the new role of Michael. So ready for the new season, in a new town 3 hours away from my hometown, (motivation being that I felt too close to everything that happened with my friend) and just ready to see where life would take me. Then I lost my Grandfather and my Aunt within a month of each other and absolutely no one would hire in the town I moved to. So another shitty summer and I end up moving back home within 3 months.

I continued watching Supernatural when it aired again in October; grateful for the hour weekly distraction again, and I kept up with it. I would log onto here after the episode, reblog things and read people’s reactions. I enjoy this community so much. Then the episode came in ‘19 where Dean was in the infirmary after having his head bashed against the wall a couple times and Jack was worried about whether he’d get through it. And the speech Cas gave is something that has stuck with me ever since then, because since the death of my friend it had been the same thing I had been telling myself.

Jack: What’s the point- if everyone I care about is just gonna leave?

Cas: The point is that they were here at all and you got to know them. When they’re gone, it will hurt, but that hurt will remind you of how much you loved them.

This felt absolutely validating to me. I was tired of hurting. I was done with and angry at everything and felt as if I just wanted it to be gone, but I kept telling myself that it only hurts because I loved them so much. When I heard that line, watching my favorite character recite it to Jack, it felt as if he was talking to me because it was something that I needed to hear at that point in my life. It felt as if they knew I needed saving and reached through the screen to pull me up and say what you’re feeling is valid and there are people out there who are feeling like you are now, and all of you will end up okay.

So I took this to heart and lived the best I could everyday. I turned that into my mantra and started living the life I knew they would want me to; with kindness and love and understanding.

I owe a lot to these characters. I owe my ability to go forth with kindness and understanding to Cas for making me feel valid. I owe my ability to move past my anger and finding my identity to Dean. I owe a lot to Misha and Jensen to bringing these characters to the point that I can feel all of this. To get to the point that I may be a little healthier than I was 3 years ago. 

And then season 15. The final season. The season where I say goodbye.

It started out as a nice tribute I believe. They had brought back some old characters that we had missed (lordy I missed Kevin and Adam). They did some things that we had talked about a lot on this platform that we would love to see before the series ended. It seemed like it would be a good ending to a show we all love. We saw what our boys went through all these years and they were evident in the beginning of the season and was slowly being pulled through the season. We saw how they differed from the early season and got to see them with their new-found family. Do I wish more of the episode included more of TFW 2.0? Of course, but I’m still happy we got as much as we did... up until the end.

Episode 18. We knew it was coming before it happened. There was so much speculation about this after the convention where Misha and Jensen had both talked about the emotional scene that Richard Speight Jr. directed. How it was a hard day on set and that absolutely no one was cracking jokes during this time which was a really big indication about how important this scene would be. We knew what would happen, but we didn’t know what all would happen.

We got Cas’ confession, and as much as some are like “you can interpret that as you like,” we knew what was meant here. We knew where Cas was coming from and to see his happiness to save the one that he loves was something I will never forget from when I first watched it.

And after all this hype for this after the fact, not just from fans but also the actors, we knew there had to be more to this. This was a monumental moment! There had to be more! But we know where this is going.

Episode 19. Not much to report. Which as Jensen had put it, episode 19 was the season finale and episode 20 would be the series finale. Episode 19 ended like I thought it would generally. Chuck is finished. Jack is the new God (which some of us guess would happen at the beginning of the season. I feel amazed we got something right after the fiasco that is episode 20). I still don’t understand the montage at the end of 19. That’s what I would have expected at the end of 20. If only we knew that was the first of SO. MANY. DAMN. POINTLESS. MONTAGES. But I’ll move on for now.

Episode 20. If you would have asked me 13 years ago how this show would end, I feel as if this episode would be pretty damn close to my answer. That’s not good writing. “Oh Dean dies and Sam gets to live and have an ‘apple pie’ life. Makes total sense!” And that would make sense if nothing in the last 13 years happened. There has been so much growth in not only the last 13 years but also just within the last season, and it’s just all gone. Dean dies, not because he wanted to, but because of another hunt that his dad didn’t even finish. Something that could have been done in season 1. He dies, not ready, not having the chance to finally experience freedom from his “destiny” (something that this show has made them fight against since the introduction of the angels might I add!), not giving an ounce of effort to stay alive, and not ever really finding peace. I’m sorry but there was absolutely no way that Dean could find the shred of peace he deserved within 2 weeks of escaping Chuck’s grasp. But this is where I started having issues in the episode.

Dean, a character I love and saw myself in for years, dies before he finds peace and in all honesty, true happiness. A character that has been known for suicidal actions and thoughts (episode 13x05 ring a loud bell?) and you decide to say he needs to die before it gets better? Or were you saying that it only gets better or peaceful for people like him after he dies? Because either way that sends a really shitty message. I don’t think I have found my peace. I think I’m better than I was a couple years ago, much like Dean, but I sure as Hell haven’t found my peace. So are you telling me that death is the only way I find it? Because I’m sure I’m not the only one reading it like this.

Dean gets a small hunter’s funeral (if you want to even call it that). No one they befriended or became family with along the way is there (sure, blame Covid. I’m sure it was part of it, but Hell. Surely something could have been done to bring at least a couple more people in for this). Then we get Dean’s heaven where Cas is mentioned in a throw away comment that you would miss if you weren’t intently paying attention (he’s out of the empty and helped with Dean’s heaven. Awesome. Show him then). We literally only see one person in Dean’s heaven. Bobby. Which he is great, but what about the “everyone we lost on the way” that was seriously just mentioned the episode before? They not there?

And from here, we get even more montages. Why the Hell, do we need to fast forward through Sam’s life, with shots of Dean driving around heaven? Why not explore more into Sam’s family (not just the wife and kids but also check up on Donna? Jody? Sweet goodness any indication of what the Hell happened to Eileen!?) Why not show Dean seeing his loved ones in his heaven? WHY NOT SHOW DEAN SEEING CAS AFTER WHAT HAPPENED IN 18? So much could have been done following up what happened in 18 and it was chosen to be ignored! Which is awful in so many damn ways, but it doesn’t matter for this because it was completely ignored. And after that 10 min montage (which montages should not last that long. I don’t care what anyone says. If a montage lasts that long, they could have made important scenes pertaining to that) Sam dies old and is greeted by Dean in Heaven and we look off into the sunset because finally we’re all happy... and dead.

All of this, and it feels like the message through this whole thing is “yall can fight for happiness, but yall won’t get it until you’re 6 feet down in a grave!” No peace. No found family. No fighting the good fight. Just death is the end, and that’s all that matters... and that’s where it all stings. I watched the characters I see myself in for years, got validation from them and felt as if things for them could get better after all of this, maybe they could for me too. Only things didn’t get better for them. It ended in death and only “happiness” after the fact. This isn’t a message I expected from this show, but it sure as Hell is the message I received.

So thanks C*W. Way to make all of this “keep fighting” mean absolute shit. You did a bang up job murdering a show you housed for years.

[sandwichrin]

A Little Into You (Junkyu x Reader Fic) (Ch. 3)

Word Count: 3.6k words

Pairing: Kim Junkyu x Fem. Reader (Treasure members are all included as well)

Genre: PG-13, Comedy, Romance

A/N: Hi! Here’s the third chapter of the Junkyu x reader fic I’ve been working on! Tbh I really like this chapter because it has more of the other members in it :3 Hope you guys like it! Feel free to read the other chapters from my blog’s Masterlist! <3

Chapter 3 - The Girl?

It had been 3 days since the incident happened. Which one? Yeah, the one where Hyunsuk saved you from showing up to work all cat-urine-tainted by lending his shirt to you. It had also been three days of you bringing along his clean shirt that you’ve washed to work since you hadn’t bumped into him at all after the incident.

Did he forget about the shirt? You wondered if he even remembered the encounter you both had. What’s worst, you started to believe that he doesn’t even remember who you were.

What were you thinking? You both have only met briefly over a silly matter. You shouldn’t have expected that it could be anything more. Not that you were interested in him in any ways, you just thought that you could’ve at least made a new friend. The only friends you had were those whom you met in high school couple of years ago, but then you’ve lost touch with most of them ever since you moved out of your hometown after accepting the job your high school teacher offered you right after graduating.

It was a Friday, and you were looking forward to go to work because you usually only had to stay at work for only half a day on Fridays. You were even allowed to wear casual outfits on Fridays- since the company you work for encourages their employees to “have fun” at least once a week. (Weird, but sure dressing up casually to work isn’t something to complain about, right?)

“So, what are your plans today y/n?”, your colleague, Soomin asked. She was the one who sat not far opposite from your desk, and also the one who’s always making conversations in the office with you.

Not like you were unfriendly or anything, you just didn’t want to be too casual with your colleagues especially since you were the youngest there. The people in your office were mostly 6-10 years older than you, hence why you didn’t think you would fit much in their group. There’s also the fact where you’re an introvert at heart, which makes you prefer staying at home instead of joining any company dinners—but your colleagues never minded it, they knew you were the less social type.

“Oh nothing. I was thinking of heading straight back home after work. Maybe do some cleaning up at home later.”

“I see,” Soomin nodded. “Well if you feel like doing something fun, the rest of the department is going for a buffet lunch after work. You can join us if you want to.”

You smiled at her. “Thanks, I’ll let you know if I plan on joining.”

                                                              *

 It was lunchtime at the YG Building for the boys, and the whole Treasure group was at the company’s cafeteria, all cramped up with two to three tables joint together to cater all 12 of them.

Jaehyuk was sitting at the end of one side of the tables, playing with his food on his plate with the fork in his hand.

“…isn’t that right, Jaehyuk?”, Jihoon asked his dongsaeng who was sitting two seats away from him.

Jaehyuk snapped out of his trance, not realising his hyung had been talking to him.

“What?” he said, clearly unsure of what was going on.

“I said, the part where Junkyu jumped on Hyunsuk in the choreography should be changed. You said that you were thinking of changing Junkyu’s part with yours, am I right?”

“Oh yeah. That’s right. I feel like the choreography would look more balanced like that,” Jaehyuk replied, looking at Hyunsuk who was paying attention to him and Jihoon.

Hyunsuk nods in approval of the idea. “I think we can try that this evening. We’ll need to do it part by part though, to see if the flow works that way.”

“Yeah sure, we’ll do that.” Jaehyuk answered him.

Hyunsuk continued eating his food, and once in a while he would laugh at the jokes Yoshi kept spewing at Asahi who was sitting beside him. Jihoon on the other hand, noticed Jaehyuk barely touching his food. He also noticed that Jaehyuk was staring back into space.

“Hey Jaehyuk…”

Again, Jaehyuk was back in focus and he spooned some rice into his mouth. While chewing, he turned his attention to Jihoon, “Yeah hyung?”

“Are you okay? You’ve been quiet today…and you’re barely touching your food,” Jihoon asked, worried if anything was bothering Jaehyuk’s mind.

Everyone else at the table stopped talking and focused on both Jihoon and Jaehyuk.

“It’s nothing, I just don’t feel too well.” He looked down at his food again.

The rest of the boys exchanged glances with each other.

“Are you coming down with a fever hyung?”, Junghwan asked.

“It’s not like that…I just..don’t feel well.”

“Could it be…,” Jihoon said, making everyone focused on him.

“OH! I think so too, hyung!” Jeongwoo exclaimed loudly. He stood up and pointed at Jaehyuk. “Could it be-“

“OUR JAEHYUKKIE DIDN’T GET HIS DAILY DOSE OF BANANA UYU?” Both Jeongwoo and Jihoon said at the same time. The both of them cheered loudly and high fived since the both of them guessed the same thing at the same time.

“Really? You feel down for not getting banana milk?” Junkyu asked, confusion written on his face.

“Heyyyy it wasn’t just today okay! It’s been this way since yesterday!” Jaehyuk whined frustratedly. He picked on his food with his fork again.

“Aish hyung! You should’ve said so, we could’ve gone and look for it for you,” Jeongwoo said as he approached his hyung to give him a back hug.

“There weren’t any at the convenience store. I wanted it so badly.” Jaehyuk was already pouting on his own as the rest of the group continued watching him.

“Wait, which store did you go to? The one in front of the building or the one inside the building?” Yedam asked.

“Man, I’ve checked the store in this building. They don’t sell the banana uyu that Jaehyuk likes. They have banana milk, but it’s the different kind.” Jihoon said, as he took a sip off his drink.

Jaehyuk was still quiet, lost in his thoughts. He felt a gentle pat on his back. He raised his head to see Jeongwoo standing by his side. “It’s okay hyung, we’ll get you one.”

Jaehyuk squints at his friend. “What are you saying, Jeongwoo?”

“Yedam and I were planning to go to the convenience store outside.”

“For the banana milk??” Hyunsuk asked.

“No, god no. We wanted to get that limited-edition ramen cup they’re promoting on TV.”

“What? They have limited-edition ramen nowadays??” Doyoung said in disbelief.

“Yeah, they’re just making it limited edition because you’ll get the chance to win that PS5 game- I’m not sure what game but Jeongwoo wants it badly.” Yedam explained as he noticed everyone was staring at him weirdly.

“Hey. If we’re commited, we might win okay?” Jeongwoo exclaimed proudly.

“And how many of those have you bought, huh?” Jihoon asked.

Jeongwoo rubbed the back of his neck. “Well…I’ve bought 8 already…”

“WHAT?”

“Aigoo Jeongwoo! What are you going to do with the ramen then? You can’t eat too much of those you know that,” Hyunsuk was already nagging at him.

Jeongwoo covered his ears in response to Hyunsuk’s nagging. The rest of the boys laughed seeing him react that way. Even Hyunsuk laughed along.

“Anyways, hyung, Yedam and I can go check it out for you.” He said softly to his hyung. “Yedam-hyung. Let’s go.”

“Now? You want to go now?”

“Yeah, if we go any later, students coming back from prep school might buy ‘em all.”

“Alright.” Yedam got up from his seat and followed Jeongwoo who was already heading out of the cafeteria. Man, that kid is fast.

“Hey don’t forget to put on your masks too!” Hyunsuk called out to them.

“Aight!” Both Yedam and Jeongwoo said in unison.

                                                                *

 You just got out of your office, a little delayed than usual though since you had to apologize to each and every colleague you passed by for not joining them on their staff buffet lunch.

But the good thing about today was that, not only did you get to get off work in the afternoon, your casual attire made it easier for you to walk and move around. On the other days you would’ve worn your high heels to work but today you wore your white sneakers along with a matching white graphic tee under your cream-coloured cardigan.

You walked past the block of your office and once again, you were heading towards the YG building. This time, you weren’t distracted by it though. You were more focused on heading towards the convenience store opposite it.

Since it’s a Friday, you’ve made it a personal rule to eat ramen on Fridays as a celebration that you finished work early. You personally restricted yourself from eating any ramen on any other days simply because you wanted to make it seemingly special and worth looking-forward to eat them on Fridays.

You entered the convenience store and was greeted by a friendly welcome by the cashier. You smiled at him. You were sure he was already familiar with you since you made it a point to visit this shop every week to get what you needed.

You glanced around the shop to see if there was anything new being promoted. Your eyes landed to a customized aisle which showed a competition notice. You walked towards it to see what it’s all about.

Oh. A chance to win a PS5 game of your choice? The more ramen you buy, the higher chance of winning? You chuckled. It seemed that if one buys the ramen and gets a special code written under their ramen lid, they’d be one of the lucky winners. You tilt your head slightly and took one of the ramen cups off the shelf.

“Oh? Oh wait this isn’t the flavour I want,” you mumbled to yourself. You put the ramen cup back and scanned the rest of the shelf to see if the spicy stew flavour you liked was there. Unfortunately, it wasn’t there. Maybe it got sold out.

Sighing, you moved away from the shelf. You went to another aisle and grabbed yourself a bowl of instant cheese ramen. You walked up towards the cashier and placed the bowl onto the counter.

“This isn’t your usual pick, miss.” The cashier said, as he saw your slightly disappointed face.

“Yeah, the spicy stew one that I liked was out of stock I guess.” You smiled timidly at him.

“Oh right, that one. Yeah, it’s one of our bestsellers. But we have other spicy stew ramen too, if you’d like them instead.”

“Oh no, it’s alright. I’ll just have this one.”

“Okay,sure.”

He took the ramen bowl in his hand and was about to scan it when you stopped him. “Oh wait!”

The cashier seemed surprised by you.

“Sorry, I forgot to take a drink. I’m so sorry.”

The cashier grinned. “It’s fine, I’ll just scan this later.”

“Thanks.” You smiled. You left the counter and hurriedly walk up towards the refrigerator in the store.

As you were thinking of which drink to pick, two guys entered the store and you heard the cashier welcoming them from the payment counter.

“Hyungggg! They didn’t have the flavour I want!” You heard one of the guys said this.

“Come on Jeongwoo, you could just buy the game yourself you know. You already wasted plenty of ramen all for the sake of getting that winning code.”

“Hyung, you have to understand. If I win this, it shows how luck is indefinitely on my side! I worked hard for this.”

“For ramen?”

“Hyunggggg nooooo, listen, listen to me-“

Your focus was no longer on the boys once you heard one of them starting to give his hyung a pep talk about hard work and luck.

You picked up a carton of strawberry milk from the refrigerator since it’s what you always get from the store to pair up with your ramen. Your eyes landed on the small yellow bottle that was beside the strawberry milk you picked up.

Isn’t that the banana milk on TV? The one where most celebrities drink? You wondered, since you usually see artists drinking them in shows. You stretch out your hand to take it. It was the last bottle in the refrigerator.

You shrugged to yourself. Maybe you could try it and maybe you’ll know why everyone likes it so much. You closed the refrigerator door and carried both your drinks to the counter to pay.

You were about to take your money out of your purse to pay the cashier when you heard one of the loud boys earlier groaned in frustration. Your head turned to see what was going on.

“No way! It’s sold out again! What kind of spell did they use on that milk anyway?! It’s always sold out!”

Your turned back to the cashier and handed the money to him. After paying, you proceeded to put your stuff onto the table beside the payment counter. That spot was your usual seat whenever you were on your Ramen Friday days. (Yes, you actually named the occasion as Ramen Friday-- lol you and your dorkiness)

You heard one of the boys- the less loud one asking the cashier, “Do you have any backup stocks of the banana milk?”

“Sorry, we haven’t received the stock yet. It usually arrives around 3 in the evening.”

“God, how does it sell that fast!” The louder boy said, sounding very upset.

You glanced at the strawberry and banana milk in your hands. Should I give it to them? They seemed like they really need it, no?

“It’s okay Jeongwoo, we can come back later. I’m sure Jaehyuk doesn’t mind.”

“No. We have to go find one for him. Don’t you see how down he looked?” Jeongwoo whipped out his phone from his pocket. “There’s another convenience store two blocks away from here-“

“Jeongwoo-“ Yedam interrupted him. He was about to continue but you had already approached them by then.

“Excuse me,” you interrupted the both of them.

“Y-yeah?” Jeongwoo asked.

“I couldn’t help overhearing that…you guys were looking for this?” You showed them the banana milk in your hand.

“Yeah, we were. But it’s okay, that’s yours-“

“I actually bought it out of curiosity. I didn’t really need it. You can have it.” You held out the banana milk for them to take it from you.

Jeongwoo, who had been loud the whole time he was in the store, was the quiet one now. He looked at Yedam, relying on his hyung to deal with you.

“Really, just take it,” you smiled.

“I…thanks…I-I can pay for it,” Yedam reached for his wallet in his pocket.

“No, no! It’s fine, really. Just take it.” You pushed the milk into their hands. “It’s not gonna stay cold, so you should drink it fast.”

“Thank you, it’s for our friend actually.”

“Oh. Right. Then you better hurry up and give it to him or her then,” you grinned.

“Thank you so much.” Yedam thanked you again.

You smiled at them and made your way back to your seat.

Yedam and Jeongwoo was about to walk away when Yedam turned back around to approach you.

“I’m Yedam by the way. Thank you again.”

Jeongwoo’s eyes widened, seeing that his hyung exposed himself to a random girl. Jeongwoo tugged at Yedam’s arm, trying to tell him to stop.

You nodded at Yedam’s random introduction. “You’re welcome…Yedam.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to just take this and go without thanking you properly.”

“Come on hyung, we should go,” Jeongwoo whispered at Yedam.

You nodded again and smiled at them.

Jeongwoo was already pulling Yedam away from you when suddenly it hit you- Wait. Did he just say his name is Yedam? Your eyes shifted to them, the two boys wearing masks. You were sure that the other guy’s name was Jeongwoo when you heard them bickering near the ramen shelf. Jeongwoo….Yedam….? Could it be?

“Wait!” You called out to them.

The both of them stopped and turned around.

Oh no. Here it goes. She knows who we are- Jeongwoo panicked inside.

“Yes?” Yedam asked you.

“A-are you…Yedam from Treasure?”

“Yes.” Jeongwoo was surprised to see his hyung so confident in admitting who he was. He, on the other hand, was nervous since he had rarely interacted with fans without the supervision of their manager.

“Oh my god. That’s great-“you said but then you got cut off by Jeongwoo.

“Sorry, we can’t take any pictures with you without the consent of our manager.”

“What? Oh no-“You said, trying to stop them from misunderstanding.

“Jeongwoo! What are you doing?” Yedam whispered to his friend.

“Stopping us from getting into trouble!” he whispered back.

You shook your head, finding it funny that these boys were whispering in front of you but you could still hear them.

“No, I won’t take pictures or spread it to anyone that I bump into you both here- if that’s what you’re worried about,”

Jeongwoo’s eyes still showed that he didn’t trust you enough in your opinion so you went to your bag and took out a small paper bag out of it. You walked up to them and passed it to them, to which they took it with a confused look.

“I was hoping to give that to Hyunsuk-ssi, the leader of your group, but I haven’t seen him around so…if it’s possible, could you guys take it to him?’

Yedam and Jeongwoo exchanged glances with each other. Who is this girl? And why does she have a gift for their Hyunsuk hyung?? Does Hyunsuk hyung have a secret girlfriend they don’t know of??

“I…I’m sorry,” Yedam spoke, “I’m not sure if we can pass gifts to our members…I mean, we’re not sure if our manager allows it, since it’s not a fan event…” Yedam continued, sounding unsure of what he said either.

You chuckled. “I can assure you that’s not a gift. It’s his stuff. But if it might get you both into trouble, I can give it to him myself, no worries,”

Yedam nodded at your explanation. He was about to give the paper bag back to you when Jeongwoo’s phone rang.

“Hello? Ah, hyung! What? No, no, sorry! We’ll be right back! Yup, see you!”

“Who was it?” Yedam asked him.

“It’s Jihoon hyung,” Jeongwoo stuffed his phone into his pocket. “He was worried what took us so long here.”

“Oh right! We better go then!” Yedam turned to you and bowed slightly, “Thank you again for the milk. Our friend would appreciate it.”

“Yes, thank you again.” Jeongwoo said as well.

“Let’s go!” Yedam said to Jeongwoo as the both of them hurried out of the store.

You stood there, lost for words. Didn’t…Yedam said that they could get into trouble for passing stuff to their members from outsiders? But…why was your paper bag still with them when they left?? You started to worry if anything were to happen to them.

                                                                *

 Jihoon stood up from his seat, both hands on his hips. “What took you both so long? Did you both get lost or something?”

“Pfft. Both Jeongwoo and Yedam getting lost in a convenience store right outside our building! That’s so funny!” Junkyu bursted out laughing.

Unfortunately for Junkyu, he was the only one laughing at what Jihoon said, as everyone was more focused on Jeongwoo and Yedam who looked like they had sprinted back to the cafeteria.

Jeongwoo was huffing when he approached Jaehyuk, “Here, hyung. Look what we got you! It’s the only one left too,” He handed the banana uyu to his hyung.

Taking the banana milk from Jeongwoo’s hand, Jaehyuk felt touched by his friend’s effort of cheering him up. “Jeongwoo…”

Jaehyuk got up from his seat and pulled Jeongwoo into a hug. “Thank you so much, both of you,” he looked at Yedam as well.

Yedam nodded and smiled at his hyung.

Jihoon was sitting back in his seat when he saw the paper bag in Yedam’s hands. “Hey, Yedam. What’s that in your hands?”

Yedam didn’t realise he was still holding your ‘gift’, in which he gasped out loud when Jihoon pointed it out that the bag was still with him.

Jeongwoo too, was surprised. “Hyung, I thought you gave it back to her?”

“I…I didn’t realise—” this time, Yedam was the one with the panicked look on his face instead of Jeongwoo.

“Wait, what’s in the bag? And who’s her?” Hyunsuk voiced out.

Yedam and Jeongwoo looked at each other. Jeongwoo gestured Yedam to explain to their hyung what happened.

“Well,” Yedam started to speak. He looked at Jeongwoo again. Jeongwoo nodded at him, telling him to go on. “Well hyung, you see…the girl asked me to pass this bag to you. I mean, I told her that I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to pass gifts to any of the members but…well, I think I might have accidentally taken it from her instead.”

Hyunsuk’s eyebrows furrowed. “A gift? For me?”

“No, no hyung. She said it was Hyunsuk-hyung’s stuff, didn’t she?” Jeongwoo confirmed with Yedam.

“Oh yeah, she said it wasn’t a gift. It was your stuff she wanted to pass I think?”

“Huh. I guess I might as well take it then.” Hyunsuk stretched out his hand, expecting Yedam to hand in the paper bag to him.

But then, just as the paper bag almost reached his hands, Jihoon snatched it away from him.

“Jihoon! Come on, that’s mine!” Hyunsuk whined at his friend who was giggling at his reaction.

“Oh come on Hyunsuk, you’re no fun! What are you hiding from us anyways? Who’s this girl you’re seeing behind our backs, huh?” Jihoon smirked.

“What? What are you talking about Jihoon?” Hyunsuk asked in confusion.

To be continued...