#.anyway. <-experiencing normal thoughts and emotions

[loseremzo]

been thinking a lot about the original script for season 7 episode 9 “Never Leave Me”.

The scene where Buffy and Spike are talking in the basement and he’s telling her to kill him, the original scripts actually goes a little more onto Buffy and WHY she wont skill him, beyond the soul.

She literally says that she isnt going to kill him because she saw him change BEFORE THE SOUL. that she believed in the man he could be beyond his monster BEFORE HIS SOUL.

They also bring in the attempt r*pe in season 6. Like they kinda talk about it in relation to who she believes he can be and in questioning him. The rest of season seven, if memory serves me correct, they NEVER talk about it. Buffy talks to others about it and its mentioned before but Spike and Buffy never really explicitly talk about it, but in the original script for this episode THEY DID. We get Buffy’s thoughts and a little of her forgiveness AND WHY she forgave him.

Not simply because of his soul, or because he knew it was so wrong that he actually needed the soul, but because she saw he was TRYING to change. Just like she was TRYING all season.

(this is about to become a deep appreciation/analysis for season 6 and 7.)

The entirety of season 6 is about trying. Trying to be better. Trying to be normal and trying to overcome your depression/heal. trying to have control and power. trying not to repeat cycles.

AND in some part failing. Spike tries too hard and ends up hurting the girl. Buffy trying and still it doesn’t feel like enough, trying and failing to get her feet on the ground until the very end of the season. Willow trying to be in control of both the things around her and of her power and failing as she gives in into the darkness. Xander trying to not be his father, not hurt those around him, specifically Anya, and in that attempt he fails and hurts her anyway.

Now, you can come at season 7 for lazy writing or bad villains but im a season 7 apologist and lover (i rewatch it all the time. i love it unapologetically) But it allows for all these characters to heal, to forgive themselves and/or others.

Spike gets to, in some capacity, forgive himself and prove his goodness. Starting the season feeling like the soul changed nothing, was “usless” in a sense because he couldn’t feel it, it couldn’t stop him. And ended the season literally saying “i can feel it” with such fucking amazement cause some part if him thought it wasn’t even there. He became the better version of himself that he wanted to be for Buffy as well.

Buffy was able to forgive Spike (very early in the season if you ask me) and was able to find/heal the softer, more loving part of herself. Was able to open herself up to a romantic interest (Spike). I mean, the look on her face when she tells Spike that he loves him isn’t just love, it’s surprised amazement that she can even feel that. And then at the end of the season, she’s able to be content because she’s got her fire, her passion, her emotions back AS WELL AS her autonomy, in a way, an ability to control her destiny and what she now can do.

Willow gains the proper control over her power, tries to not give into the darkness AND SUCCEEDS. She ends up forgiving herself for everything the year before and comes to terms with her grief, which is a big step in terms of her power and control in herself. She fully harnesses her power in the final to become what can only be described as a being of light, completely contrasting her transformation in the previous season.

Xander this season is full of compassion, protectiveness and kind words. (this is a main overview of Xander’s character. I will not be going into criticisms, just like I didn’t with other characters.) He spends the season breaking the cycle of abuse that he has experienced, he’s apologetic to Anya, he give Dawn his kind words, being protective of Buffy. For the most part he’s not rude to anyone, barely even Spike. He’s put off by him and judgmental/distrusting for obvious reasons but I don’t remember him being outright mean as he was in other seasons, instead, he houses him for a few episodes and, dare I say, bonds with him. Hell I don’t think he even says a lot in the group confrontation with Buffy.

Anyway, this was originally a draft about the original script to the Spuffy scene at the end of “Never Leave Me” and became a big vent/appreciation for all that season 7 does for these characters. There are characters I left out simply because I haven’t read or gathered enough opinion or overview of their character, but feel free to share your thoughts. (please im so bored at work right now)

[sidesteppostinghours]

guys i made a mistake.

[thethingything]

I keep randomly remembering that the reason our brain is especially fucked and a bunch of our symptoms are worse right now is because of like, an avoidable external thing that's chemically affected our nervous system instead of either our symptoms flaring up on their own or some specific stressful event triggering it, and for some reason that keeps making us feel especially bad about it.

like our mental health being bad because of stressful stuff going on and our mental illnesses randomly flaring up both suck, but I can handle our brain just doing its own thing and/or reacting to what's going on around us.

but something about it being a medication that someone else prescribed that's changed the way our brain functions is significantly more distressing in a way I can't put into words properly. a lot of the symptoms we've got (apathy, brain fog, alexithymia, memory problems, etc) are very typical depression and dissociation symptoms, but they're like a weird version of them that feels very different to how we normally experience them.

the only way I can describe the difference in feeling is that it feels more "artificial" but I can't even really describe what I mean by that. if normal brain fog is looking out the window on a foggy day, this is looking out of a window that's been covered with those frosted vinyl sheets. you can't see shit either way, but the feeling is very different.

I just desperately want it to go away. I'm finding it hard to be enthusiastic about things I'm normally excited about no matter how bad our depression gets, and our usual coping mechanisms for getting our brain to register positive things aren't really working because it's not the same underlying mechanism.

it feels like any control I did have over our symptoms and anything I could do to help with them has been stripped away and all I can do is wait it out and hope it fixes itself, and the whole "being given a drug that changes how your brain functions and takes away your control over what your brain is doing" is pretty much the exact phobia I was trying to learn to figure out how to deal with before we get dental work done, and for the dental work it'd be like... idk probably an hour at most, whereas now I'm just stuck dealing with experiencing it 24/7 for an undetermined amount of time

[not-oscar-wilde]

not to be dramatic but I don’t end up dating my crush I’m going to pull an ophelia

[imyimsorryy]

i bet you think about me

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: kidnapping, usual cm violence, kinda emotional cheating (not on each other), mentions of a hook up, angst —> fluff

no use of y/n

word count: 7k

“This isn’t working.”

It’s a punch straight to your gut. The words echo in your mind as you drive home, void of any emotion. The radio is muted, and the dull falling of snow does nothing to help your melancholy.

You love him, part of you always has. From the moment you stepped into the BAU, you knew he would ruin you. You just didn’t think it’d be like this—so close to the holidays you cherish.

Your phone rings from the empty passenger seat, you glance over, spotting Penelope’s picture flashing on the small screen. You ignore it, you aren’t in the mood to talk to anyone. The call ceases after a minute, but then the screen is lighting up again with a voicemail and a text message. You sigh, reaching over to press play on the message.

‘Hey babydoll, me and Prentiss are going Christmas shopping tomorrow, you in? Call me back, love ya.’

At least she doesn’t suspect the heartbreak you just experienced.

It had been a long case, the grueling cold of Minnesota only heightened everyone’s grumpiness. Christmas is in a week, everyone just wanted to get home to their loved ones.

Aaron had been snapping at you—and then when you separated from him and Derek to capture the unsub, he had snapped. He never yelled at you in front of the team like he did that day. You felt like a little kid again, being scolded over anything. You can’t get the pitiful face of JJ out of your mind.

You type a quick, ‘Sorry, I’m busy’ before throwing your phone back on the seat, redirecting your full attention to the road in front of you.

Your apartment is dark when you open the door, the bare walls and cold floor are what drive you to open the bottle of red wine stashed in your pantry.

The loneliness of it all—of having someone so tantalizingly close, and then losing it too much. His touch, his lingering glances, and whispered promises linger in your mind. The way his hand would brush yours while passing files or how he’d tap his knee to yours during a briefing; all of it is etched into your memory.

By the third pouring of wine you abandon the glass, opting to just drink it straight from the bottle. The TV plays a shitty reality show, you almost laugh as you listen to the rich snobs complaining about what to wear.

You lay your head on the back of the couch, and in the process of kicking your feet onto the coffee table you accidentally knock the glass over, spilling the remaining droplets of red wine and glass shards onto the light colored rug beneath you.

Normally you’d have cursed the universe for it, laughed a little, then cleaned it up. But now, you just stare at it. Broken and bloody—as dramatic as it sounds it’s how you feel at the moment, and you can’t bring yourself to get up and grab the broom.

You twist your body so you're laying down on the couch, and you fall asleep listening to the annoying voices on the TV and the smell of grapes.

You’re awoken to the sound of an incessant knocking on your front door. You’re not sure what time it is, but the sunlight peeking in through your blinds gives you enough clues to estimate.

You contemplate ignoring it, but then the nagging thought that maybe, just maybe, it’s Aaron. Maybe he’s hurting the way you are, maybe he’s sorry. In the process of getting up you feel glass crack on your bare foot, followed by a searing pain and a red footprint when you step off of it.

The knocking still doesn’t stop, and you conclude that you have to answer no matter what, so you can at least make whoever it is patch your foot up.

Blonde and black hair are all you see in the peephole, of course they came to get you anyway.

“Hey sweets.” Penelope is far too happy for you to understand, your head is already pounding from your previous wine drunk state.

You open the door wide enough for them to come in, and Emily notices your pained expression, before casting her eyes downward. “Jesus, what happened?”

“I stepped on glass.” You stumble slightly, gripping her shoulder to hold you up. Emily looks around your living room. She notices the empty wine bottle, the stained carpet, the messy blankets thrown about the room. She turns her attention back to you as Penelope searches for a first aid kit. “Are you drunk?” Penelope laughs, Emily gives her a look.

You hear Penelope mumble something about profilers as she approaches you with bandages and tweezers.

You try to get out of Christmas shopping, but part of you can use the distraction. The holiday lights flicker on the street, the sunlight making it hardly noticeable, but you notice.

“Aaron, where are we going?” You laugh, his hands around your eyes causing you to lean into him to steer you. “Just wait.”

A few more feet and he’s finally removing his calloused hands from your eyesight, you open your eyes in awe at the sight in front of you. Christmas lights blind you, from every direction.

In the center of the festively lit town is a large Christmas tree, it’s one you would see in a cartoon with how comically large it is.

Different strings of lights shine brightly and he watches with a wide smile as you take in the site. You love Christmas lights, he’ll never forget when you two drove past a house decked out in them after a hard case. Your eyes had glistened with joy in the passenger seat.

You turn back to him with a smile that could make him faint, and then the whole park goes black.

You’re the first to laugh, the idea that he brought you here to show you the lights just for the power to go out as soon as you arrive makes you gasp for air next to him. He looks grumpy beside you, preparing to pull his badge out to make them fix it for you.

He’d have captured a star for you if it made you smile, but hearing your laugh beside him was enough to snap him out of his annoyance, instead focusing his attention on the beautiful sound coming from you.

He laughs then, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, standing on your tiptoes so your noses are almost touching. “It was beautiful.” You whisper against his lips, he almost tilts his head back with how overwhelming your presence is.

It’s embarrassing, how much of a lovesick teenager you make him feel by just being near him.

“I’ll make them fix it.” He says in return, causing you to laugh again as you press your lips to his pout. “You’re sweet to me.”

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead he presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling away in order to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Come on, there’s more to do.”

Penelope snaps in your face, jolting you out of the trance you found yourself in. “Hey, what’s wrong? You seem upset.”

“I’m fine.” You sniffle, wiping it with your glove. “Seriously, it’s just cold.” You try your hardest to smile, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you know Emily notices, but she doesn’t say anything as you begin walking ahead of them.

You don’t buy anything, your Christmas shopping is long out of the way. You do it every year, you get excited by the upcoming holiday and accidentally buy everyone’s gifts the first week of November.

Aaron had found it endearing, how excited you got at the idea of giving people gifts they’ll enjoy.

“Let’s go in here.” The universe must be out to get you, because the store Penelope turns into is the same one you and Aaron would frequent on your occasional days off. It’s filled with antiques and books, something he didn’t particularly enjoy looking at, but you did.

The day continues on, little things remind you of him everywhere you go. You curse yourself for being so miserable, for letting someone have this effect on you.

You sip a hot chocolate as the sky darkens, pushing the memories of him kissing the whipped cream off your upper lip out of your mind as you wipe it away with a small napkin that Emily hands you.

Penelope is talking to the woman at the booth, asking her all about where her outfit is from, when Emily sighs next to you. “What’s going on?”

You turn to her, a little shocked at her question. You ramble as you attempt to come up with a reason for your sour mood. “Please—I’m fine. What makes you think something’s wrong? Seriously Em—”

“You ramble when you lie.” Emily says as she lifts her paper cup up to her lips. “So, spill.”

You hesitate, you can’t say anything. Nobody on the team even knows about you and Aaron. You’d kept it a secret for a year and a half, you definitely weren’t going to give it up now.

“Did something happen…with Hotch?” It’s like she can read your mind, and you bite your tongue in order to not talk and reveal your lie. Then your eyes widen, remembering that you hadn’t told her about Hotch.

“Hey,” She says your name. “It’s okay, nobody else suspects anything.”

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from rambling. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you guys, a few months ago. You know, he smiles more these days.”

You laugh bitterly at that, suddenly angry at her revelation. He wasn’t smiling when he broke your heart.

“Nothing happened Em. Let it go.” Your tone is clipped, and she puts her hands up in surrender, dropping the topic as Penelope approaches the two of you.

Once they drop you back off at home you flop onto your bed. A few seconds pass before you grab one of the pillows and scream into it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

The next weeks are torturous. Christmas is spent on a case in Florida, it would have been bearable if Aaron were still yours.

He knows you hate it, a white Christmas is your favorite thing, and the humidity of Florida is the complete opposite.

Hot weather has never been your favorite, the past summer you would complain you were dying every time he forced you to run with him. He thought it was adorable, and the image of you tinged with heat and sunburnt cheeks was one of his favorite sights.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” The current case is a local one, something you’re very grateful for. Sleeping in your own bed is much better than being in a suffocating hotel.

He calls your name, his voice void of his usual softness for you. “I need your report from the Michigan case.”

“I’m working on it.” You say, trying to remain civil as he stares at you. His eyes would usually soften when your tone was like that, stressed. Now he just stares. “Is that all?”

He nods, his voice suddenly dry as he tears his gaze away from you. You shoulder past him out of the conference room, heading towards Spencer as he works the geographical profile.

“There’s something there.” Aaron isn’t sure where Dave came from, but his shoulders slump slightly at the older man’s discovery. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about Dave.”

“Sure Aaron.” He claps his shoulder as he walks past him, standing in the same spot you just had. “She’s good for you—after everything.”

Aaron has to fight his scoff, if only he knew how good you were for him. He has no idea that he’d already indulged, already had you for the entirety of a year, and then some.

“I’ll remember that.” His tone leaves no more room for Rossi to speculate on his life, and with that he’s walking out of the room in order to go look at the latest body with Emily.

If Spencer notices your sadness, he doesn’t acknowledge it. It’s become your thing lately, a constant frown decorating your features. “Hey pretty girl.” Derek could usually get you to smile, but lately even those attempts are futile. “Oh come on, nothing? Baby, I don’t remember the last time you shined those pretty teeth.”

“3 weeks and 2.5 days.” Spencer says without looking up from a spot he’s working on the board. “Jesus.” You mutter. You spin your chair to face Derek, mustering up a big smile.

“Here.” You grit through your teeth. “Okay, that’s creeping me out.”

“You wanted a smile.” You shrug, causing Derek to laugh as he places a comforting hand on your shoulder. “We’re here for you, we all love you.”

This has you turning away from him. We all love you.

“Hey, I think I’ve got something here.” Spencer saves you from continuing your dreaded conversation with Derek.

The case seems to drone on forever, but once you finally find the unsub’s identity you grab your gun, preparing to retrieve your vest.

“You’re staying.” Aaron looks to you, his expression unreadable as you roll your eyes. “No, I’m not.”

“I need you here with Reid.” It’s bullshit, and you know it. But you don’t care enough to fight him on it, so you scoff before walking towards the small kitchen to get yourself some coffee.

Emily walks up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your back. “He’s protecting you.”

“Emily, don’t.”

“Why don’t you talk to him?” She persists, moving around you. “Don’t you need to go with them?” You ask, shrugging her off. She doesn’t say anything else, and you make a sour face at her pitiful expression.

Aaron spares you a glance as he leaves, your eyes meeting for a split second. But as quickly as the spark was there it was gone, and you're returning to the paperwork in front of you. He notices the shuddering breath you take, and the tired slump of your shoulders.

He wants to reach out, to console you. But he can’t, he can’t let himself do it because if he does he’ll never be able to leave you again. 

You’re gone once they get back, their killer in custody and the young girl he had kidnapped returned safely to her family. He rubs his hand across his forehead before heading up to his office.

Months ago you would have flashed him a pretty smile and the doe eyes that have him bending at the knees in order to get him to leave the papers and go home with you. 

“Aaron, come on, please.”

“I’ve got reports to do honey, just give me an hour. I’ll make it up to you.” You smile at him as you snake your arms around his waist, earning a warning glare from him. “Come on.” He shakes his head at you as he peels your arms off of him.

You sit with him for one hour, then two. After two you sigh, shuffling some of the papers out of the file and picking up a pen from the metal cup he keeps on the corner of his desk. He looks at you for a moment before going back to his papers, a fond smile remaining as he continues writing on the boring documents. 

Another hour passes when you finally stand up. You stretch your arms dramatically, pairing it with an overexaggerated yawn. He knows what’s coming, and before he has the chance to look up you’re wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your face into his hair. “I’m going to make some coffee.” You press a kiss to the temple of his head before jumping off of him in favor of the door. You turn around with a smile on your way out, one he reciprocates instantly. “Thank you.” 

You return with two cups of coffee in your hands, you kick the door closed with your foot. “I got donuts too.” You grin goofily as you place the navy blue mug down in front of him. “Black coffee, horribly plain.”

“You drink sugar with a side of coffee.” He smirks as you take a bite of your donut. “And you’ve got the worst sweet tooth I’ve ever seen.” You stick your tongue out at that before lifting the donut up to his mouth. He shakes his head. “Right, I forgot you’ve got to be in shape for your triathlon.” 

“You’re doing it too.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that.” You laugh before taking another bite of the chocolate donut. You look back down at the papers in front of you, careful not to get any chocolate onto the white sheets. You can feel his eyes on you, and you can feel your cheeks flush at his unmoving gaze. “What?” You laugh. 

“Nothing.” He shakes his head, his eyes still on your face. “You’re beautiful.” You smile at that, pulling your lip between your teeth as you avoid his gaze. “You know how to charm a girl, Hotchner.” 

“Only you.” He shakes his head as he lifts your chin with his thumb, rubbing it across your lip once you move your head towards him. It’s one of his favorite things, how easily you lean into his touch. You smile brightly at him as he leans in to capture your lips. 

His mind snaps out of the memory as he opens the door, the once warm office filled with your presence now bare and dull. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Jealousy is a green-eyed monster. It’s not something you believed in the past.

In high school when Jessica Blake flirted with your boyfriend in front of your face you didn’t even flinch. 

You didn’t want to believe that Aaron was dating again when Garcia mentioned it. But then Rossi started teasing him when he thought no one else heard, you heard it though. 

“You’re staring daggers.” JJ whispers in your ear. “What?” You turn, your tone more clipped than you intended. You soften as you face her, mumbling a sorry. JJ puts an arm around your shoulders, “I know you have a thing for him, maybe she won’t last long.”

He just finished his triathlon, the one that you were supposed to run with him. You had trained with him for weeks. Weeks of your life you spent doing something you hated just because he wanted you to do it with him, wasted. “JJ, I don’t have a thing for him.”

It should’ve been you kissing him at the finish line, instead it’s Beth. You haven’t met her, and really you shouldn’t be jealous.

“Aaron, I can’t run any more. I think my side is going to explode.” You huff, bending over at the waste to try and catch your breath.

He laughed from his spot ahead of you on the track. “I’m not joking!”

“I’m not laughing at you.” He lies, the smile on his face giving him away instantly.

He grows more concerned for you as you don’t move from your spot, instead you plop down on the ground of the indoor track. “Honey, we can go get some water, come on.”

You laugh as you stare up at him from your spot on the ground, causing him to shake his head. “I think you need to carry me to the car.”

“Come on you dork.” He pulls you up by your arm, placing a hand on your waist to stabilize you. You lean into him as you two walk out towards the locker rooms. “I’ll meet you back out here.” He takes his arm off of you, causing you to stumble dramatically.

“Go change, we can get takeout and you can pick the movie.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” You giggle as you turn your back to him, heading into the women’s locker room to change into warmer clothes.

Once you’re finished changing you meet up with him again, taking his warm hand into your cold ones once the freezing air hits your skin. “I forgot my mittens.”

“I’m not surprised.” He chuckles. “So you should know to bring them for me, you know I always forget.” You pout, and he can’t stop himself from pressing a kiss to your puffed out lips. “I’m horrible.”

The next time he forced you to go to the gym, he brought your mittens and a scarf to match them.

From your spot on the sidelines you can tell she’s a way to forget you. 

He won’t forget you anytime soon though, you can see it in the way his smile doesn’t reach his eyes even while he’s surrounded by people who care about him. You can tell by the way he still searches for you in the huddle your team has formed around him, and you can tell by the way his eyes lock onto yours from across the park. 

You decide to walk up to the rest of the team then, making sure to not look away from him. Beth talks to him, and you can tell he’s giving her incoherent mumbles as responses as he finally breaks eye contact to turn towards her. 

Derek wraps an arm around you. “Babygirl, out of you four, you may be the happiest one today.” He gestures to the very hungover women of the BAU, you had opted out of ladies night in favor of wallowing with a tub of ice cream. “And that’s saying something.” 

You look at Aaron after Derek says the last part, making sure he knows that the jab from Derek was his fault. He looks away, unable to bear the guilt you’re trying to seep into him. “I need something greasy and fried.” JJ says, breaking the silence that took over the group. 

“I need a drink.” You mumble to Derek, who smiles as he ruffles your hair. “We’ve missed you coming out with us, you know.” He says as you all walk towards the parking lot. Jack comes up next to you, and you realize then how you haven’t seen him in months. You smile, unable to be annoyed at him over his father’s doings. “Hey Jack-O.”

He smiles at you, tugging your hand to get you to pick him up. “How are you buddy?” 

Aaron watches as you hold Jack in your arm, and it physically pains him. He brushes it off as an ache from the swimming portion of the triathlon. That was your favorite part, your giggles as you splashed him with the pool water during training echo in his mind. 

He turns back to Beth, reminding himself this is who he needs. Beth is simple, uncomplicated. She doesn’t work a job that puts her life at risk daily. She smiles at him, completely unsuspecting of his yearning for another woman. 

But then he hears your laugh and he’s ready to drop everything for it. It’s the kind of laugh that even the greatest musicians couldn’t capture into a song. The way your lips curl and your head tilts back is a site that even the most talented of painters couldn’t put onto a canvas. 

“Hey, good job out there. I’m going to have to train more to beat that.” Beth jokes to him, once again regaining his attention. Beth is good for him, she even enjoys running as much as him. 

You set Jack down, and smile as he runs back towards Aaron. You hear him ask his dad to invite you over again, which you quickly tune out to avoid the awkwardness.

You miss her approaching you. “Hey, I’m Beth. Jack is over there singing your praises, I had to meet you myself.” She’s friendly, and you can see why Aaron likes her. You wish you didn’t hate her so much, she seems like she’d be a good friend. 

“Hi.” You smile as much as you can, reaching your hand out for her to shake. “Aaron told me you're great too, at the job.” At the job. “I’m sure he did.” Your response is light, but if anyone knew about you and Aaron they’d know there are layers to it. 

He watches as you interact, carefully watching your movements. At the restaurant when everyone is occupied in conversations he looks at you. You can tell what he’s asking without any words being spoken. You shake her head, rolling your eyes in annoyance. He wants to make sure you were civil with Beth. 

The next morning you roll over in bed, your hair splayed across the pillow as you listen to the sound of the shower in the bathroom connected to your room. In your sleepy and hungover state, half of you expects Aaron to walk out.

Instead it’s a man with strikingly similar features. It’s not him, but he was a good hook-up to take your mind off of him. You know you're using this random guy as a surrogate, and you know the psychology behind it, but you don’t care. 

“Hey baby.” The stranger leans down to capture you in a kiss, you duck to avoid his lips. They don’t feel like Aaron’s, you remember how chapped they were last night when he had kissed you. 

“I’ve got to work.” You slip under his arm in favor of the kitchen. “I made you some coffee.” You groan, annoyed at the fact that this stranger had rummaged through your kitchen while you were still asleep. “I’m not the biggest fan of coffee.” It’s a lie, and if the man was smart he’d realize it due to the vast selection in your pantry, but alas he is not the brightest. 

“What’s your name?” He asks, coming up behind you in the kitchen. “Look, please, let’s not do this. I have work in..” You check the time on the microwave clock. “30 minutes. Shit, you have to go.” You usher him towards the door, barely giving him a chance to grab his shoes. “Come on, you can be late once. Let’s go again.”

“Get out.” You roll your eyes. “Bitch.” He scoffs, but retreats down the hallway of your apartment complex. Once he’s out you set your security alarm before racing towards the bathroom. 

Five minutes is a new record time for you to be ready, you quickly grab a muffin and mug of coffee before leaving. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” You take a seat at the round table, conveniently the only one available is next to Aaron. “Dang mama, rough night?” Derek laughs from across from you, earning himself a glare. “Alright, let’s get started.” Aaron snaps, gaining the attention of everyone. 

Once everyone disperses from the room, in order to prepare to leave, Aaron stops you, placing a hand on your upper arm. You freeze, not turning to make eye contact before shrugging him off. “Sir, I need to go get my bag.” 

He says your name, causing you to turn towards him. You scoff when he doesn’t say anything. “Coward.”

“Excuse me?” He gives you the same stern look he gives to everyone, but there’s something else in his expression. “You’re a coward.” You repeat, pointing a finger to his chest. “I suggest you cover that..mark..on your neck, Agent.” He moves away from your hand. 

“That’s what this is about?” You narrow your eyes at him, if looks could kill he’d be a puddle on the floor at your glare. “It’s unprofessional, and distasteful for you to present yourself like that at work.”

“Get off your high horse Aaron. There’s barely anything there.” You adjust the collar of your shirt to make sure it’s fully covered. “You’re upset with me, when you’re the one who went and committed to someone else. I mean, you’re the one who ended this in the first place. Go to hell.” 

It was late when the team got back from Minnesota, and everyone was tired. Aaron couldn’t focus on that though, all he could see was the scar running across your cheek, and the bruise on your eye. 

“My office.” He doesn’t touch your shoulder like he usually does when walking past your desk. His orders are cold, and leave no room for argument. 

As soon as the door is closed he’s berating you. “I should suspend you. I should have you evaluated for being so reckless. You endangered the lives of everybody today, and that’s unacceptable. You got lucky out there today.”

He’s angry, you know it’s because you almost died, but he’s deflecting like always. You don’t respond, you know you did the right thing and it resulted in a young girl being saved. “This isn’t working.” He runs a hand through his hair.

“What?” You attempt to take his hand, he pulls back. “This. It’s over.” 

“Aaron,” You pull his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes as he breaks your heart. “You don’t mean that, you’re angry.” He shakes his head, pulling away from the touch he usually craves. “Emotions have nothing to do with this, it’s a fact. We aren’t going to work. I’ll expect your case report on my desk first thing in the morning.” 

“You want to fight? I can fight, I can scream.” You sound pathetic, and you never thought you’d be begging a man not to leave you. But he’s different, he’s everything. “I don’t want to fight. I want you to go home and think about what you did wrong, Agent.”

“What I did wrong?” You scoff as you swing his office door open. You’re gone before he can realize what he just did, leaving nothing but the lingering scent of floral perfume in your wake. 

The unsub is kidnapping victims who look increasingly similar to you. Aaron can’t fight the unease in his chest as he stares at what he was doing to these women. It’s hard for his mind to not drift to images of it being you instead of them. He makes sure to pair you up with Morgan everywhere you go, already knowing that him being with you won’t do either of you any good. 

You were just stepping outside to catch your breath, it was dark out, but there were people around you, how much danger could you really be in?

You remember pulling your phone out, and you remember a searing pain in your shoulder, only registering that you’d been shot after seeing the silencer in the attacker’s hand. “Don’t scream, or he’s dead.” You don’t need to ask who, your mind immediately flashes with images of Aaron. 

Your hands are bound in the back of his van, you fight a black out as you take in your surroundings. He’s disorganized, he shot you and left a witness outside of a station. From the brief look you got of his face you know he’s young. “What do you want from me?” You ask, as calmly as you can muster in your bleeding out. “I–I need a doctor.”

“You’re not getting a doctor!” He shouts, turning around while driving to point his gun at you. “Then I need you to hurry, before I bleed out back here.” You move to get more comfortable in the cramped spot he put you in. “I know you don’t want me to die.”

“I read about you, I’ve been to all of your lectures and conferences, and you never noticed me!” You squeeze your eyes shut, Aaron has noticed you’re gone by now, you know he has. “I knew I had to get your attention somehow.”

Back at the precinct Aaron is reeling. The woman who had witnessed it was shaking in one of the chairs. “I didn’t hear the gun—but when I looked up she was bleeding and this guy was yanking her by the hair.”

He puts his hands over his ears, trying anything to avoid the thoughts that you could be dead, that the likelihood of you being dead is high. Derek pats him on the shoulder, a reassurance that does nothing to ease his mind. 

“What if this is about her?” Emily looks up from the file. “The women all look extremely similar to her, but he never kidnapped any of the previous ones.”

“But why shoot her?” Rossi asks, taking caution with his words as Aaron paces back and forth. “She—she just did a bunch of lectures at the ivies. Over our vacation last year.” Nobody questions how he knows that, but they nod. Derek pulls his phone out, dialing Penelope’s number. “Hello my furry friends. How can I be of service?” 

Derek fills her in on what happened, gaining a large gasp from the woman on the phone. “Garcia, we need to cross reference all of the people who recently attended her lectures across New England. Ivy leagues–Harvard, Yale, Princeton.”

“Yes sir.” She responds, tight-lipped, to Hotch. “And Garcia?”

“Yes sir?”

“You need to be more professional.” Derek shoots Aaron a look at that. “Come on man, she didn’t know.” 

Aaron doesn’t respond as he walks outside to investigate the scene where you were taken from. Your blood is pooled on the ground, bringing tears to his eyes. Dave comes up behind him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Aaron quickly regains his composure, wiping the tears away from his face. “She’s strong Aaron. She’ll pull through.” 

“He shot her Dave.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “I can’t–I can’t lose her.” Dave doesn’t say anything to that, he knows Aaron will blame himself for the rest of his life if he loses another woman he loves. “She’s everything, we–we were fighting last time we talked.”

“Then let’s go in there and find her.” He claps Aaron’s shoulder before turning back towards the precinct. 

You gasp as he pushes the bandages to your arm. The bullet was through and through, thankfully. “I lost a lot of blood.” You say, trying to sound submissive. “Come on, take these off my hands and I’ll do whatever you want.”

“No, no.” He shakes his head, pushing the gun to his head. “Stop talking.” 

You shake your head, fighting back the tears threatening to surface. You have to be strong, the team will find you. “What–” You shift. “What’s your name?” He twitches at you moving closer to him. “Come on, you know mine. I like to know the name of the man I’m with.” You want to throw up at the thought of flirting with him, but it’s the way to gain his trust. 

“Paul.” You nod at that. “Ok, Paul. I remember seeing you at my lecture. I…” You twitch slightly as he turns the gun around on you. “I wanted to talk to you, but you were gone before it ended.” 

“You wanted to talk to me?” You’re gaining his trust, you can tell by the way he lowers the gun ever so slightly towards the ground. “Untie me Paul, we can have some fun. I want you.” You fight the shudder taking over your features as he smiles at you. 

He unbinds one of your hands, the other is still cuffed to the chair behind you. “This is all I can do for now.”

“Thank you.” You contemplate kicking him hard, but ultimately it’s a fight he would win due to one hand still being stuck behind you. You’ll wait, and get him to trust you enough to unbind the other one. 

“I’ve got a name.” Penelope’s voice is professional, a stark contrast to her usual bubbly mood. Aaron doesn’t feel guilty for what he said to her, his attention too focused on not breaking down in order to find you. “Paul Danver. He attended every one of her lectures, and even began making obsessive comments about her in various articles.” 

“So he’s a stalker. That doesn’t explain the torture to the victims. He doesn’t want to kill her, he wants her attention.” 

Aaron thinks for a moment, racking his brain. He was at your lectures, he sat in the back to avoid attention. “The one at Yale, she was asked a question about how we pick our cases. She–she avoided answering at first but when he pressured her more she said we pick the most urgent ones. He went to these extremes for our attention, he knew it would bring her here.” 

Paul runs his fingers over your skin. Your shirt was gone, he had ripped it off in order to care for the wound on her shoulder. “Paul, I think it’s time. Untie this hand and we can be together.”

You don’t expect him to actually do it, and you fight your sigh of relief when he does. You wait a beat after he’s done it, giving him a second to lean back. He smiles as he takes in your compliant state, before leaning forward again to kiss you. This is your chance, you bang your head into his face, sending him stumbling backwards. “You bitch!” He roars, racing forward with his finger on the trigger of his gun. You push the hand holding it towards the wall as he pulls the trigger, narrowly avoiding a shot to the head. “I’ll kill you.” 

You struggle for a moment, before getting the gun out of his hand and pointing it at his retreating form. “I don’t think you will, Paul.” Aaron’s voice rings in your ears as the team fills the room. Derek puts himself in front of Aaron, knowing he’s too emotional to be confronting Paul. 

“Get on the ground.” Derek growls. Paul complies after realizing there isn’t a way out of this. 

“Let’s get a medic in here.” Aaron says into his mic before striding over to you. He breathes your name as he stands in front of you. He takes his vest off immediately, then his jacket to clothe your bare form. “I knew you’d come.”

“Always.” He sighs as he wraps it around you. A tear falls from your eye before you wrap your arms around him. He’s hesitant, not wanting to further injure your bandaged shoulder. “Please hug me back Aaron.” With your whispered plea he’s reciprocating instantly, breathing into your hair. 

“I should have killed her!” Paul shouts as they drag him away. “Get him out of here.” Aaron says harshly as he pulls away from you. “Come on honey, we need to get you to the ambulance. Can you walk?”

The team doesn’t dare say anything to the term of endearment that Aaron used for you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

“I heard he broke things off with Beth.” David says to you one day while you're staring into his office. “Huh.” You make a noise without looking up from your case report. “Come on, go talk to him.” 

“Rossi, I’m working here.” You gesture to the paper, your pen has been unmoving for the past ten minutes, but he doesn’t need to know this. “You just got kidnapped, if now isn’t the time for a grand confession then I don’t know when is.” He retreats after that, heading back towards his office. 

The next day Aaron approaches you, muttering an quiet ‘my office’ just loud enough for your ears to pick up.

You smooth your sweater out as you stand, suddenly nervous at the thought of being alone with him.

The soft click of the door has him looking up, he almost seems surprised that you actually listened to him. “Yes?”

“Sit.” He gestures to the seat, at one point in time you’d have pulled it around to sit next to him. Now you sit on the edge, like you’re ready to jump up and escape at any time. “Agent, I think it’s in the both of our best interests to put our personal ties behind us. For the efficiency of our job, we should remain strictly professional.”

You scoff at his audacity, leaning back ever so slightly in your chair. “You want me to fight you on it. You want me to be the one who pieces this back together.”

He doesn’t respond to that, instead focusing his attention to the paper on his desk. “That’s all, I need your latest report as soon as you finish.”

He looks up slightly when you don’t make a move to leave, gesturing slightly to the wooden door.

“How’s Beth?”

He puts his pen down at this, finally looking you fully in the eyes. “She’s good.”

“Huh, I could have sworn Rossi said that she was old news.” You twirl a thread from your sweater around your finger. “We are still friends.”

“Oh, you can stay friends with her and not me?” You ask, leaning in closer to him. After narrowing your eyes you lean back in the chair again with a scoff. “Oh wait, I know why, you love me. Being friends with me would just be torture for you.”

“Agent.” His tone is warning. “Hit a nerve? I know you Aaron, I know you better than anyone. Did you tell her that you’re in love with another woman, or was the breakup mutual?”

“Enough!” He slams his hand onto the desk in frustration. “I love you, is that what you want me to say? You’ve almost died, twice in the past few months. Do you understand what that would do to me?”

Your eyes soften at his tortured expression. It’s full of many things—yearning, love, sadness. You stand then, and he prepares for you to turn around and walk straight out the door. Instead you shake your head, walking around to his side of the desk.

You place your hands on his face, cupping his jaw with one while the other moves towards his hair. He sighs, wishing you had slapped him instead. It would hurt less.

“Aaron, I love you.” You move his face so he has to look at you. His eyes are glossy, and tears brim them. “Aaron.” You whisper.

“I can’t lose you. I won’t recover.”

“I’ll be careful.” You smile as a tear rolls down your cheek. “Please.” You whisper, and that’s what causes him to break, the desperation in the singular word.

His hands find solace on your waist as he stands, wrapping his arms around your frame. He inhales the scent of your shampoo as you hug him back. “I missed you, so much.” His voice breaks as he speaks, it’s a side of vulnerable you’ve never seen from him.

You pull back slightly, smiling the smile that always has him putty in your hands. You lean in, pressing a light kiss to his pursed lips. “Kiss me.” You didn’t have to tell him twice, his lips are slotting into yours instantly.

You bite his lip lightly as you pull back, earning a throaty laugh. “Not here, I’m going to take you to dinner.”

“Always a gentleman, Hotchner.”

The team all watch with open mouths and shocked expressions as you and Hotch walk out together, hand in hand.

“Well it was a matter of time before they got together.” Derek shakes his head as he turns his chair back towards his desk.

“I thought they never would.” JJ admits. “They’ve been pining for so long.”

Emily smirks from her chair, toying with the pen in her hand. “They’ve been together for over a year.” She looks up at them, watching as their jaws drop even more. “Lousy profilers you all are.”

[ilikerafayelwaytoomuch]

How the LADS men help their gf with anxiety

The LADS (separate) girlfriend has been feeling anxious lately, what do they do to help?

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, vague mentions of 'something' happening that triggered the gf, fluff, comfort

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Rafayel 

She had been extra anxious all day, all week really. It had been building and she didn’t know why. She kept it from Rafayel, not wanting to bother him with something she wasn’t even sure she could talk about. But it was beginning to be too much, her body shaking, mind racing, glancing in every direction. She felt impending doom, whether that be something about to happen to her career or her relationship with the artist. Speaking of, the artist himself, Rafayel, hadn’t come home yet. That pushed her anxiety even further, checking her calendar and seeing he had nowhere to be at this time. Had he been upset about something? She hadn’t even seen him yet though. Was he struggling? Was he second guessing their relationship? 

She wasn’t given too much time to entertain her thoughts of where her boyfriend could be, as he came through the door, face brightening when he saw her. “Hi Cutie! I didn’t expect to see you today,” he smiled at her, arms full of shells. She smiled and nodded at him, not wanting to burden him. “I was down at the beach getting some supplies,” he explained, walking over and plopping down his pile of shells, rocks, and whatever else he deemed a useful supply. “Those damn seagulls were about to fight me for some too. I swear they have something against me, like they think I’m food. Stupid birds. All they can do is be annoying and squawk or beg for food. I suppose they also pester humans too. Anyway, I almost lost an arm getting some of these,” he sighed. 

“Are you okay?” she asked him, not even catching onto his dramatics. Alarm bells rang in Rafayel’s head. She usually would reply with a snarky comeback, not seem genuinely worried about him. Something was off about her. 

“Of course,” he answered, moving to sit next to his girlfriend on the couch, immediately wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “They couldn’t catch a slippery fish like me.” 

“That’s good,” she muttered. 

“Everything okay?” Rafayel asked her tentatively. She nodded her head, but he didn’t believe her. “You sure? You seem off today especially. Did something happen? You know you can tell me anything and I won’t judge you, right?” 

“I know,” she took in a breath. She had never really talked about her anxiety to him. It used to be much more of a problem, but she had been doing much better in the past few years, not struggling with it as much. This week was the exception. How would he react? Would he change his mind and believe she was too much to deal with? Too emotional? “I’ve just been really anxious today,” she eventually answered, looking towards the floor. 

“About what?” he asked, curious. 

“Dunno,” she shrugged. “It’s not the first time. I never really told you, but I do have anxiety. I had been doing really really well, but for some reason this week I’ve just been so on edge and it’s been piling up. It’s bad today.” Rafayel held her a bit closer, noticing that she did seem more jittery than normal, her mind not fully present, almost. 

“It happens. Things can’t always get better and better. Sometimes we have bad weeks, that doesn’t mean you are going to be back at square one. Anxiety sucks,” he breathed. She looked up at him with her head tilted. He said it as if he had experienced it. “I also have anxiety,” he answered her before she could ask the question. “Or did? I’m not sure if I still qualify as having it, but there was a long period of time where I really struggled. I’ve been quote unquote, stable, for a while now, not needing any medication or anything. Is there anything I can do to help? For me painting always helped, duh, but we can do whatever you want.” 

“Honestly? Painting doesn’t sound too bad right now. Can you maybe walk me through the process? It’ll maybe help me focus on something,” she agreed. Rafayel smiled at her, excited to paint with his girlfriend. But since this is Rafayel, he started by getting out his paint making supplies so they could make paint together and then paint together from start to finish. He had put some background music on, as that was what he always wanted when he had felt anxious and began to walk her through the process. They grinded up various shells and things Rafayel gathered from the sea, then mixed it in with the binding ingredient, tested it and began to paint. Y/n was mostly silent, focusing on the process and Rafayel’s instructions or jokes. It did help. She no longer felt quite as anxious. Rafayel had suggested they work on the same canvas and create something together, which she agreed to. At first, Rafayel had been helping, giving instructions on what to paint. Of course acting out his cliche fantasy, moving behind his girlfriend, placing his hand over hers and guiding her strokes. It made her laugh, so he deemed it a success. Eventually, as time went on and their painting became more and more alive, their conversation died. They grew into a comfortable silence, focusing solely on the canvas in front of them or the music softly playing. 

“It’s stunning,” Rafayel said when they finished, admiring their work. “I didn’t know my Cutie was also an artist.” 

“It’s not like I did that much,” she argued. 

“I think you did. We made the paints and created this together. Hmm, I would say this needs to be hung at an exhibit, but I think I like it too much for that. Above my bed will do,” he decided. 

“That seems like a bit much don-”

“Hush. I’ll hang it when it’s done drying. Have you eaten already?” he asked, standing up from the stool he was sitting on and stretching his sore limbs from having sat in the same position for so long. 

“Technically,” she drew out the word. He raised a brow at her. 

“Craving something?” 

“So much junk food. Any and all kinds you can get.” 

“On it,” he answered, getting his phone out and placing an order. When the food arrived y/n had been very cautious at first, afraid that her boyfriend would think she was eating too much. Rafayel thought quite the opposite, believing that she was holding herself back and should eat more. So he brought it upon himself to ensure that she would eat what she wanted, offering her more and more and making sure to eat just as much or even more as her. The food was comforting, but so was the time, just getting to sit and eat with Rafayel as they chatted. When they finished up, Rafayel insisted that she stay the night. He was unaware that she was hardly sleeping because of her anxiety, but y/n wondered if that wasn’t the case. Why else would he suggest she sleep there with him to get a good rest? He had to know she hadn’t been sleeping well. Rafayel had also insisted that she wear his favorite pair of comfort sweats and shirt, saying there was no possible way to feel anxious wearing them. Of course, she went along with it, the smile on Rafayel’s face irresistible. In his bed, Rafayel spooned his girlfriend from behind, engulfing her with his warmth and holding her more tightly than normal. The pressure and warmth was comforting and y/n felt more relaxed in his arms than she had all week. “Thank you for opening up to me. You can let me know when you’re feeling anxious and I’ll help any way I can. I’ll listen to you, paint with you, cook for you, sit in silence for you, give you a massage, cuddle you, kiss you, fuck you, anything really as long as it’ll help,” he told her. She laughed softly as he had brushed over the last suggestion, saying it quickly. 

“Thank you. I’ll try to be even more honest. Today really helped though,” she said through a yawn. “I feel a lot more relaxed.” 

“Good. Now get some rest,” Rafayel instructed, placing a kiss to the back of her head as she fell asleep in his arms. 

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Sylus 

“You’ve been sitting there staring at the wall for over half an hour now, is everything okay, sweetie?” Sylus asked his girlfriend. She had indeed been sitting on the couch in his office, saying nothing and not moving for half an hour. 

“Hmm?” she hummed, turning to him. His brows furrowed in concern and he stood from the chair at his desk, walking over to her. 

“You seem more distant,” he pushed. She nodded, saying nothing. Sylus sat next to her and placed his hand on her thigh, the feeling grounding her. “Is this about what happened the other night?” She nodded and he nodded back, understanding. Ever since that night she had been feeling more anxious and distant. Worried that at any moment, she would be back in that situation. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I don’t,” she immediately answered. “I don’t want to remember it, I want to forget it.” 

“I understand that, really. But this isn’t healthy. If you don’t want to talk to me, I won’t push it, but I do think you should talk to someone about it,” Sylus admitted. She closed her eyes, biting her lip as her hand moved to scratch her thigh. Sylus’s hand blocked her movement, as he had noticed it was a habit she began to pick up when feeling this way. 

“I’m scared and I don’t know what to do about it. I always figure shit out on my own, so why is this affecting me so much?” she said. 

“Because it’s a lot. Even the strongest person in the world has to lean on people sometimes. We’re meant to lean on each other. You’re so unbelievably strong, but it’s okay to lean on me when you need to,” he comforted her, squeezing her thigh softly. She nodded, unsure what to even say. “How about I finish up work early and we can go wash up? Then we should eat and we can read a book?” he suggested. 

“That sounds nice,” she agreed. Sylus stood up and reached for her hand. She took it and he guided her to the bathroom where he slowly helped her undress, making sure that she was still completely comfortable. He made sure the water was extra hot for her, even though he thought she was insane for preferring the water to be almost boiling hot. He watched as she stepped into the shower and visibly relaxed more, the tremors in her hands stilling slightly. He got in behind her, hugging her from behind and saying nothing. It was more comforting than y/n had thought it would be. Despite what had happened, she felt okay in Sylus’s arms. They stayed like this for much too long, Sylus moving to help wash up. When they were done, he pulled out the new robes he had gotten. A new design from a luxury brand that promised ultra comfort in their robes. He ordered it as well as a few other things since that night. She had been staying with him and he watched as her anxieties had grown. She had barely slept, and he was determined to change that. When she was more well rested, she could process more and hopefully agree to talking to someone. 

After eating, they headed to Sylus’s bedroom. He put on one of his records before choosing a book and sitting on his bed, back against the headboard. Y/n stood by his bookshelf, not really wanting to start a new read. She wasn’t sure she could focus enough to read. Her fingers brushed across the spines of the books, her body saying to pick one but her brain unable to say anything but “watch out” or “run”. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Sylus called to her, inviting her to sit after seeing her internal conflict. She took his invitation, sitting between his legs with her back against his chest. Sylus held the book in front of them, arms caging his girlfriend. He read the pages silently before asking if y/n was ready to turn the page. When she didn’t respond, he decided to take matters into his own hands, starting over and reading the pages aloud. He kept his voice soft, hoping to lull her to sleep. His story choice wasn’t random either- he made sure to choose a book that had a message of comfort behind it. He hoped she would get the message- that she was safe here with him through the book. 

At first, y/n could barely get what was happening in the story, unable to focus still. So instead, she focused on her boyfriend. The rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against her back. The slight rumble she could feel as he spoke. His arms wrapped around her, but not suffocating as he held the book in front of them. The warmth from being so close. The sound of the record playing softly in the background- words of comfort being sung- mixed with the sound of Sylus’s voice, deep and comforting. She focused on these things first, allowing herself to feel safe. When she was able to focus on the story more, she realized everything about this was meticulously planned. Sylus had chosen a vinyl that had a soothing melody with words of comfort on purpose. He had chosen this book to give her a message- that she was safe with him. She had never felt so seen and cared for in her life, tears being brought to her eyes. When she sniffled, her boyfriend noticed immediately and stopped reading. “Are you alright?” he softly asked. 

“Yes. Thank you Sylus. For all of this,” she answered. 

“Of course, sweetie. I want you to not only know that you’re safe with me, but also that you feel safe with me. I’d do anything to protect you. If I could fight this anxiety away from you, I would in a heartbeat.” 

“I know you would,” she chuckled. “Keep reading.” Sylus did as she requested, continuing to read the book. Around ten minutes later, Sylus felt y/n’s body relax fully into his. He peeked down to see she had fallen asleep on him. He smiled softly, having nothing but love for the woman in front of him. He wished he could protect her from everything- the world, the bad feelings, the hard problems she was sure to face. If he could, he would take it all for her, leaving her with nothing but happiness, safety, and peace. But for now, he would continue to read to her as she slept in his arms, ensuring she’d feel safe even in her dreams. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Zayne 

Zayne could tell his girlfriend was anxious. Having known her even before they began a relationship, it was easy to spot. She hadn’t even noticed how she was feeling quite yet, but he saw the signs. It was why he had suggested going on a walk at a park. Zayne had scoped out all the parks nearby, finding which ones were the least crowded, but also the most scenic- the perfect place to walk if you’re anxious. Y/n had agreed, getting into his car and ready to walk. She had been stressed lately about work, things piling up. And on top of that there was a lot of drama in the office. So she was happy to spend time with Zayne. 

They walked through the park relatively slow, taking their time to take everything in. Their hands, stuck together, swung beside them. Though they didn’t speak much, Zayne kept a close eye on his girlfriend. At the beginning, she seemed more neutral. Stressed. Trying to hide it of course, but he could tell. Now she had a soft smile on her face, a genuine one. He guided her to a small pond at the park and her face lit up. “Look over there!” she exclaimed, letting go of his hand to jog over to the pond. He smiled and caught up to her. “Aww, they’re so cute! The little babies are even following,” she cooed. In the pond, there was a duck swimming, her small ducklings following close behind. She squatted down at the water to get a closer look at their cuteness, Zayne following. Upon hearing a crushing sound, she turned to her boyfriend, who was pulling out a bag of frozen peas from his coat. She laughed. “Where were you hiding those?” she asked. 

“That’s a secret,” he smiled at her, opening the bag and handing it to her. The ducks had also heard the noise and began to swim over to the couple. Y/n’s excitement grew the closer they got, sticking her hand in the bag and offering some peas to the ducks. They swam quicker, diving into the water to eat. The couple watched as they fed the ducks peas, laughing whenever a duckling would flop around, still unsure how to work its new body. Eventually, the ducks swam off, leaving the couple behind as they stood and watched. Y/n stood and took Zayne’s hand in hers, sighing. “It would be nice to be a duck sometimes,” she admitted.

“It would,” he agreed. 

“Just swim around all day eating peas people throw at you. They don’t have to worry about work. Maybe they still have to deal with drama. I don’t think I’d like a duck taking away my duck boyfriend,” she smiled. 

“If we were ducks I’d be just as dedicated to you. No other duck would sway me,” he mused. 

“How romantic,” she chuckled. “You knew how I was feeling, didn’t you? That’s why you brought me here.” 

“I did. I could tell you were stressed and likely anxious. If you weren’t anxious already, I knew you would be. Figured the fresh air and ducks could help.” 

“They did. But something else helped even more,” her eyes glimmered. 

“What’s that?” Zayne asked, wanting to know so he could help more next time as well .

“Getting to walk around with my handsome doctor boyfriend,” she smiled, making him chuckle. “I’m serious!” she insisted. “You always know how to make me feel better. Just being with you makes me feel better, we could have been at the stinkiest place right now and I’d feel better.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” he teased. 

“Okay, maybe not if it was stinky and gross. But you get the point,” she sighed. 

“I do,” he agreed. They began to walk again, this time back towards Zayne’s car, hand in hand. Y/n swung their hands happily, smiling more now and feeling lighter, ready to go home and end the night in his arms. 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Xavier 

When Xavier woke up from his nap, he walked into the living room mto find his girlfriend on the floor in front of the coffee table, her head resting on the laptop in front of her. At first, he thought she was asleep, then she let out a groan of frustration. “Everything okay?” he asked carefully, grabbing himself a glass of water. 

“No,” she answered, exploding. “There’s too much to do and I’m so fucking tired. I don’t know how I’m going to do any of this. And all week long my coworkers have been staring at me, like daggers into the back of my skull and I don’t know what I ever did to them. Because of that I can’t focus at the office and when I’m here I’m either thinking about that or about how much shit there is to do that I can’t get done.” Xavier set his glass down gently and walked over to the living room, sitting on the couch behind her and looking over her shoulder at her laptop. 

“Want me to help?” he offered. 

“I would, but that’s technically illegal,” she sighed, looking up at him with a pout. 

“Then how about a break?” 

“I don’t have time for a break, Xavie,” she warned. 

“If it’s all making you this anxious, it won’t matter,” he argued. She sighed, knowing he was right, but not knowing what to do to calm her racing mind. “Would talking about it help?” he asked. 

“I don’t know? It’s like what I said. I don’t know what I did to them, but they just keep glaring at me. And I know I’m not imagining it before you ask that. I’ve tried thinking about everything. I don’t think I said anything rude or offensive, I haven’t thrown more work onto anyone, and I don’t think it was anything about me physically. I don’t know what I’ve done,” she shrugged. Xavier’s hands made their way to her shoulders, massaging them gently. 

“It could be nothing. Maybe they just felt like being dicks,” he thought aloud. “Have you asked Tara about it? She’s chill from what I’ve heard from you.” 

“I haven’t. She wasn’t at the office today, but she would know. That’s a good idea, thank you.” 

“Of course. Now about this work you got, any way of making a plan so you don’t feel so overwhelmed and anxious? What all do you have to do?” he asked. She went through all of the tasks she had to do and when they needed to be done with him. Xavier was weirdly good at organizing and breaking things down, so he took all the information she gave him and did just that. He broke down all of the things she needed to get done into smaller tasks and then organized them day by day, making a to-do list for her. It left her with just two more small tasks to do that day. “Thank you, Xavie. That helped a lot,” she thanked him, resting her head on his shoulder as he had moved to sit next to her. 

“Mhm,” he hummed. “Now I’m not rushing you, but get these done so we can go get some hotpot. I’m hungry.” 

“Yes sir,” she saluted him, getting to work. Before that, she sent a quick text to Tara, asking if she knew what was up. She didn’t get an answer until they were deep into their meal. Y/n suddenly began laughing, Xavier looking at her confused. They had just been eating. Was there something on his face? “Tara answered,” she told him. 

“Oh? What did she say?” he asked. Y/n sighed. 

“It’s dumb, are you ready for this?” she warned. He nodded. “Remember Monday when I forgot my lunch and you came and brought it to me?” He nodded again, confused as to what this had to do with anything. “Apparently, one of my coworkers thought you were cute…so they stopped you in the hall?” His face dropped. 

“I didn’t do anything. She just flirted and asked for my number, but I told her I was happily with you,” he informed her. She nodded. 

“I believe you fully. She must have been pretty offended though. She started a dumb rumor about me being a whore and cheating on you, which I’m not by the way. She starts drama all the time, Tara said she’ll take care of it,” She told him. 

“Ah, well, that’s good? Still not cool of her to cause so many problems,” he muttered, putting another piece of meat in his mouth. Y/n nodded in agreement and the two finished their meal, her anxieties being lessened knowing Tara would stay true to her word. It wasn’t the first time a nasty rumor had gone around and Tara easily smashed it in its place. When they finished, they returned home and washed up, Xavier yawning and barely making it to bed. His girlfriend got in next to him, facing him. “Thank you again for everything today. I feel a lot better now,” she told him. 

“Of course. I don’t like seeing you stressed and anxious. I’d do anything to help,” he told her, yawning again. She laughed at him. 

“Even though I was on an emotional rollercoaster today, you still seem tired.” 

“I’m always tired. Only time I’m not is when I get to spend the day with you.” 

“I was home today though, so doesn’t that mean you shouldn’t be tired?” 

“I wasn’t home all day, so I am tired. Tomorrow though, is our day off, so I’ll be wide awake,” he smiled, eyes already closing. 

“Whatever you say, sleepy. Goodnight,” she pressed a kiss to his nose, making him scrunch it up a bit. 

“Sweet dreams, starlight.” 

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Caleb 

All it took was a single text for Caleb to visit his girlfriend. Having grown up together, he was easily able to detect when something was wrong, and her replying with just a thumbs up, was wrong. She was surprised when he showed up at her door. “Caleb? What are you doing here? Don’t you have a flight?” she asked. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked. 

“That’s what I’m asking you, yes,” she blinked. 

“I’m fine, but you’re not. What’s going on? Vibes are off too,” he raised his brow. Y/n sighed, moving aside to let him in. They sat on the couch, Caleb looking at her expectantly. Their relationship had been complicated. When they were growing up, they were as close as close can be, relying on each other and having no secrets. Then, Caleb had essentially disappeared, harming the relationship. At first when he returned, she had mixed feelings. Anger, relief, frustration. But eventually, it worked out, the two getting into a relationship. Despite how they were before, his disappearance had changed their dynamic, and going to Caleb for everything was harder than before. Y/n tried to keep more secrets, not big ones of course. Just ones like this one, not telling him how anxious she felt and that she had a panic attack the night before, causing her to call in for a sick day. “I don’t know where to start,” she told him. 

“How about why you’re not at work? What happened?” he asked, growing more concerned. “Do I need to beat someone up? Give you a million dollars?” 

“No, none of that,” she smiled, then sighed. “I had a panic attack yesterday so I called in to work. Still kinda anxious today.” 

“Oh,” he slowly said, processing. She used to always come to him when she was panicking, but this time she hadn’t. Of course, he knew things were different now, but it still sat uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t even know she still struggled with them. Would what he used to do comfort her? He didn’t know what to do. When they were kids, she would just talk to him about it all. Did she no longer want to do that? Did she not trust him? 

“Stop overthinking over there, we don’t need both of us anxious,” she half teased. “I didn’t tell you because it’s embarrassing now. I can handle them myself, this one was just a bit much and I was exhausted. I’m feeling better today.” 

“Can I ask what caused it?” 

“You can. It started at work, a supervisor had some words to say to me. It was maybe a bit out of line, but obviously for most people they wouldn’t have been sent into a panic attack. It thankfully was at the end of the day so I just held it together until I got home. I already emailed and took care of it all, so no need to go hunt them down,” she explained. 

“I’m sorry that happened. And I suppose I won’t hunt them down, just because you said not to,” he smiled. “Well, since we have the day off, is there anything I can do to help?” 

“I mean, I was just going to nap the day away, eat junk, and chill,” she trailed off. 

“But?” he finished, urging her. 

“There is one thing that would be super fun.” 

“You gonna make me guess Pipsqueak?” he asked, exhausted. She grinned. 

“Take me on a flight?” 

Caleb had agreed and the two headed to the nearby private airport. He had gotten his pilot license and flew people around mostly privately, but he also had bought a small, old airplane, big enough for just the two of them. When they arrived, he got his gear on, letting the staff know they’d be in the air, and then got y/n her gear. She didn’t need much, as she wasn’t flying the plane, but he made sure to give her a helmet so they could talk. Y/n watched as he did all of the standard checks, ensuring everything was good and they were safe to fly. When he finished, he helped her into the plane, offering a hand. Soon enough, they were in the air. Y/n watched as they went through the clouds, looking down below at the world. It seemed so small from up there, like nothing really mattered on it. It was just a small rock floating through space. She yelled in half fear- half excitement when Caleb decided to make the flight more interesting, twisting and turning the plane. It was freeing to be up in the air, adrenaline rushing through their bodies as their worries were left on the ground. For Caleb, it was the best thing in the world to hear his girlfriend's screams and laughs in excitement. 

After landing, the two went back to her place. There they did as y/n had suggested earlier. They ate junk, though Caleb was sure to force in a few nutritious things, then watched a show. The two were cuddled up on the couch, face masks on while they munched on popcorn and watched the show they loved when they were kids. It was comfortable. Y/n had fallen asleep first, unable to stay awake after everything that happened since the day before. Caleb had taken her into his arms and carried her to bed, getting in beside her. He smiled softly as he looked at her, happy he was able to make her feel at least a bit better. In the morning, he would make sure that she was better, and if she wasn’t, he’d do anything she wanted to help her feel better.

[these-written-reveries]

Great Heights

‣ Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x GN!Reader

‣ Genre: Flangst (angst & fluff)

‣ Summary: When Simon realizes he has feelings for you.

‣ Warnings: Avoidant behavior, Simon being a stalker, Simon being completely incompetent at handling his emotions in a normal and healthy way (but we love him anyway, don't we?).

‣ Word Count: 1,214

‣ A/N: Idk about you, but I believe Simon Riley almost always resorts to stalker/creep behavior when he has feelings for someone. It's inevitable. He's either avoiding them like the plague, or going borderline yandere on their ass, with no in between. He doesn't know how to be normal about this at all. Good luck to whoever he falls for, 'cause you're in for a wild ride with this guy.

➼ Simon will distance himself from you almost immediately after realizing he has feelings for you.

• He is an avoidant type; known for burying his emotions and running away from any sign of vulnerability.

• Love makes him vulnerable. Love makes him weak.

• Claims he doesn't have time for love or relationships. That those things would distract him from his job.

• He'll indulge himself in meaningless one night stands on occasion, but that's as far as he ever takes things.

• His job always comes first.

• But then you came into the picture.

• He may not have consciously put the pieces together at first (the man needs AT LEAST 3-5 business WEEKS before he is finally able to truly understand his feelings), but he knew immediately upon meeting you that you were different.

• Not in a bad way, not in a "you stick out like a sore thumb," kind of way…

• More in a "you're so beautiful and your voice is so nice and your laughter is adorable and when you look at me I get all tingly and warm all over and it's kinda hard to breathe and I'm definitely not gonna be able to stop thinking about you anytime soon," kind of way.

• He'd never experienced that with anyone else before. So, to him, meeting you was a total shock to his system.

• After many days of random run-ins and conversations with you, he began to get really freaked out by his feelings and the way he reacted every time he was around you.

• You made him feel like he was free falling from a great height, unable to control the experience and unsure of when it would end, or if he'd survive it.

• It scared the shit out of him.

• Can you believe it? Simon Riley. Ghost. Scared.

• This was definitely uncharted waters for him.

• So, he promptly began avoiding you.

• He made no attempts to keep it subtle either. Every time he so much as caught the smallest glimpse of you, he was spinning on his heels and power walking away from you.

• He knew you knew he was avoiding you, but thankfully, you hadn't tried to bring it up to him.

• (How could you when he was bolting out of any space with you in it faster than you could blink?)

• He buried himself in his work, told himself he didn't care, that this was just a stupid, fleeting crush. He didn't need you. He didn't need anyone. He was better off alone.

• This little avoidance game lasted a good handful of weeks. He was thrilled when he was sent on a mission, hoping the time away would serve as a detox to get you out of his system.

• It didn't. In fact, it made everything worse.

• Now he couldn't even go a second without thinking of you. He wondered how you were doing, what you ate for breakfast, what pretty little outfit you decided to dress yourself in that day, if you had slept well the night before, if you were safe, if you were okay.

• If you were thinking of him too.

• Soon enough, the mere passing thoughts and silly daydreams turned into deep-seated longing. An ache for you that pervaded his chest. An ache to see you, to hear your voice, to protect you, to hold you.

• He needed you.

• He ached for you to need him too.

• You were hit with a wave of whiplash when he got back from his mission.

• Suddenly, he was popping up left and right. Most times from afar, silently keeping an eye on you. You'd catch him in the corner of your eye as you went about your day, or feel his watchful gaze on you, only to spot no sign of him when you turned to look around.

• He was there, though. An ever-looming presence in each and every day.

• If it were anyone else, you'd be frightened. But for some reason, knowing Simon was around, even at a distance, made you feel...safe.

• It also confused you. Why did he go from avoiding you to spending every moment of his spare time around you?

• Why hadn't he attempted to speak to you?

• One day, you'd finally had enough.

• The next time you'd caught him watching you from afar, you beelined straight towards him.

• It would've made you giggle, watching him grow visibly tense as he straightened his spine, eyes darting towards the nearest exit. But, you were committed to appearing serious to him. Him avoiding you for weeks and then stalking you like a creep was no laughing matter!

"Hello, Simon."

Stood rigidly before you, Simon cleared his throat, his mask hiding what you were sure to be a similarly tense and nervous face.

"Hello."

"Whatcha doin'?" you asked in a sing-song tone, though your eyes held an interrogatory intensity as they remained locked on his.

He broke contact with your eyes, and you had to stifle the smirk that tugged at your lips when you caught sight of his throat bobbing beneath his balaclava.

"I-erm, nothing."

You let the silence drag on for a moment, watching as his eyes flickered to and from you as he visibly struggled to decipher what your intentions were, before finally putting him out of his misery.

Simon nearly flinched when you suddenly presented a water bottle to him in your outstretched hand.

"Good. Can you help me open this?"

Your small smile seemed to set his nerves at ease a bit as he silently nodded, grabbing the bottle and giving it a simple twist before handing it back to you.

A sweeter smile was offered to him now as you took the bottle from him. "Thanks!"

Another silent nod from the burly man was enough to make you take things one step further.

He grew tense again when you took his hand and began pulling him towards where you were before.

"Come on, then! If you're gonna be a stalker, you might as well be a useful one."

• The two of you worked on completing your task together, and slowly but surely, you managed to pull Simon out of his shell. He began talking to you more, responding verbally instead of silent nods and quiet hums.

• You'd caught him staring a few times, and simply giggled at him before returning your eyes to what you were focusing on before.

• Normally, this kind of interaction would leave him wanting to run as far away from it as he could.

• Surprisingly though, he found himself enjoying it. Somehow, you'd managed to make him feel...safe.

• A switch had flipped in Simon's heart. Suddenly, he wasn't quite as terrified anymore.

• Maybe this whole relationship thing wasn't such a bad idea, after all? Beats being cold and alone and missing you by a long shot.

• Before, he couldn't stand being around you. Now, he couldn't stand to be away from you.

• Nor could he bear the thought of a future without you in it.

• When he met you, he knew you were different, but never had he expected you to be such a powerful force of change in his life; melting away his cold, steely exterior and exposing his battered heart to your mercy.

• All it took was one soft smile, a gentle touch, a knowing look, to anchor him to you—every fear dissipating as he looked to you as his guiding light.

➼ He decided then that he was alright with falling, so long as you'd be there to catch his heart in the end.

➼ Main Masterlist ➼ Request Info

‣Taglist: @jslittlebirdie @alittlesmartcookie

‣ If you’d like to join the taglist for Simon Riley/Ghost, let me know by sending me an ask/message, or comment on this post!

[girlgenius1111]

give yourself a reason

engen!reader memories, and the present. changes. sol reflects on how different her life is now. good different. even if getting to the good was hard. here she is.

warnings: discussions of depression. sol gets into a fight. with people, and then a mug and a picture frame so, some blood.

------

It was a bit of a deja vu moment, honestly. You were sitting in the dean’s office once again, only a couple months after the last time. Then, you had been pretending you didn’t care. A lot had happened since, and a casualty of the progress you’d made was that you could no longer pretend not to care. You did care. You cared so much, you thought you might throw up. 

You’d begged them not to call Ingrid. Begged. They had anyway. You couldn’t help but worry about her reaction to this most recent fight, though it hadn’t been your fault. You hadn’t been in trouble since everything had happened, and you weren’t quite sure what to expect. Would everything change? Would Ingrid still want you? Every set back you had, every mistake you made, had you convinced that Ingrid was going to change her mind, and send you back to Norway. You were working on it, thinking of yourself as worthy of their love, but it wasn’t easy, and you felt your eyes stinging with tears that had nothing to do with the beating your face had taken. 

You weren’t sure you could go back to not feeling loved, not when you’d been experiencing something so different recently. The dean didn’t seem to care that your face was rapidly swelling, that you were crying, or that you hadn’t stopped bouncing your knee since you’d been brought into the office. He’d already let the boys go with a warning. He hadn’t even called their parents. You didn’t know what to do when Ingrid arrived, didn’t know whether to try to explain, or to stay quiet and just take your punishment. 

You felt so weak, suddenly. Crying, in front of this absolute asshole? Normally, you’d never let a person you didn’t know well see you this emotional, but your face really hurt, and honestly, you just wanted a hug. You were pretty terrified, though, that you wouldn’t get one. 

That you didn’t deserve one. 

The speaker in the office crackled to life, then, and the secretary’s voice rang out into the room. “Ms. Engen’s guardian is here.” 

The dean took a break from glaring at you to hit the button on the speaker. “Send her in.” 

You directed your gaze at the ground and tried to make yourself as small as possible, hearing the door open behind you.

“Mi sol, are you okay?” Mapi said instantly, moving quickly into the room and crouching down next to your chair. You refused to look at her, and she knew she had to be careful about this. Mapi showing up instead of Ingrid was a relief, but only for a moment. Then, you were just worried that she was too mad to come get you. 

“I was expecting the elder Ms. Engen,” the principal began, though he was quickly interrupted by your sister’s girlfriend. 

“Ingrid couldn’t get away from work, and I am a guardian too. Her face is bleeding, and her hands. Has she been seen by the nurse?” Mapi asked bitingly, scowling at the man on the other side of the desk. 

He looked a little put out. “Well, no, we were-” 

“Jesus, she could have a concussion.” Mapi snapped, her gentle hand on your back completely contradicting her sharp tone.   

“I don’t think-” 

Mapi ignored his response completely, slowly moving her hand up and down your back. You were shaking, and Mapi knew that if she wanted to avoid a panic attack, she had to do something, soon. 

“Mi sol?” she asked in a much softer tone, frowning when you shook your head. You knew if you looked at Mapi you’d burst into tears, and you absolutely did not want to do that in front of the dean. 

Mapi thought for a minute, before she turned back to the man. “Can we have a minute please.”

It wasn’t really posed as a question, and the man frowned at Mapi before nodding somewhat indignantly and walking out of the room. As soon as the door shut behind him, you looked up, breaking Mapi’s heart with the terrified look on your face, and the rough sob that fell from your lips.  

“Oh, nena,” Mapi sighed, seeing the extent of the damage to your face for the first time. It was mostly bruises and a very swollen lip. Your knuckles were swollen, too, but there were very few cuts on your face, and for that, she was glad. Mapi’s hands flitted over your face, her own scrunched with worry. “I’m so sorry this happened.” 

“Is Ingrid mad? Is that why she isn’t here?” You choked out.

Mapi shook her head, carefully wiping a tear off your face. “No, no, she couldn’t get away from training. She isn’t mad, I promise, she sent me to come bring you to her so she could see you were okay.” 

“Are you sure she’s not mad?” 

“I promise, cariño. She is not mad at you.” Mapi replied seriously. “Tell me what happened.” 

“They came at me, Mapi, I promise I didn’t start it.” You cried, almost pleading with her to believe you. 

“I believe you, I believe you.” The Spaniard soothed. “Where are they?” 

“He let them go with a warning.” You told her, watching as her face hardened. She seemed to think for a minute, before she stood, gesturing for you to do the same. 

“Fuck this. I’m taking you to your sister. Ingrid and I will come back later to speak to the dean and see the security footage. Venga.” 

“Mapi, I’m in trouble,” you tried to tell her, but she just shook her head. 

“Not with us. We’ll deal with it later, I promise. I want to get you taken care of and calmed down first, and I don’t think I can do that here.” Mapi told you gently, pulling you out of the room when you nodded hesitantly. You hadn’t realized you were shaking intensely until Mapi had mentioned getting you calmed down. You supposed you were getting close to a panic attack, and just hadn’t noticed. 

You continued to tune out as Mapi led you out of the office, standing in front of you protectively when she addressed the dean. 

“Ingrid and I will be back later to discuss the situation. We’re leaving now.” She told him. 

He looked at her with an incredulous expression on his face. “She can’t just leave, we have to discuss her punishment.” 

“We can discuss it later.” Mapi repeated, turning without another word towards the door, guiding you out of the school. 

Once you were out the door, Mapi wrapped an arm around your shoulders, steadying your shaky steps. “Alright, we’re almost to the car, just hang on, okay?” 

You could only nod in response, starting to lose yourself in your head, clinging tightly onto Mapi. Time seemed to speed up, or skip ahead entirely as suddenly you found yourself in the passenger seat of the car, your sister’s girlfriend buckling your seatbelt for you. 

“In and out, nena. Just breathe. Everything is okay. No one is upset with you.” Mapi was saying, waiting for you to give a faint nod before she made her way over to the driver's side door. It was quiet in the car save for the hum of the engine and the gasping inhales and exhales coming from you every few seconds. 

“Tell me what you’re worried about.” Mapi instructed, taking your hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. 

“Ingrid- Ingrid is gonna be mad and make me go back to Norway,” you breathed, shutting your eyes as another wave of panic washed over you.

“That is not going to happen.” Mapi said confidently, grabbing her phone and clicking Ingrid’s contact. Her girlfriend picked up astoundingly quickly considering she was supposed to be training, and her voice over the phone made you both terrified and reassured at the same time. 

“We’re in the car, she was too upset, we can come talk to the dean later.”

“What do you mean she’s too upset? Is she okay?” Ingrid asked worriedly. 

“Talk to her.” Mapi instructed, holding the phone out to you. You looked at her pleadingly, but she just nodded encouragingly, eyes fixed on the road in front of her. “It’s okay, nena, just tell Ingrid what you told me.” 

Ingrid could tell when you took the phone, as she could suddenly hear your rapid breaths as you gulped in air and tried to get the words out. “Hey, it’s just me. You can tell me.” Ingrid said softly. 

You closed your eyes, focusing on the feeling of Mapi’s thumb tracing over the back of your hand instead of the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. “M’ scared you’re mad and you’re going to send me back to Norway.” 

“I’m not mad. This wasn’t your fault, just like the last one wasn’t, and I am not angry with you. You are not going back to Norway. You are staying right here with me and Mapi. You’re okay, Solstråle, I promise.” 

“Okay.” You said, nodding your head as you replayed her words over and over in your head. “Okay.” 

“Okay, sweetheart. I have to go, but Mapi is bringing you over, okay? I’ll see you soon.” 

Mapi quickly bid her girlfriend a goodbye before hanging up, though her hand didn’t release yours for the rest of the car ride. 

Getting to the Barça grounds was somewhat of a blur, and before you knew it, Mapi was leading you to the pitch where Ingrid was running drills. When Ingrid spotted you, loitering on the sidelines, she spoke a few quick words to Jona before making her way over.. You were half hidden behind Mapi, which was no accident, but the concern on Ingrid’s face brought another round of tears to your eyes. You stepped forward anxiously, bottom lip beginning to wobble. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Ingrid sighed, getting a quick look at the wounds on your face before you were barrelling into her and wrapping your arms tightly around your sister. “Hey, it’s okay.” She whispered, running her hand through your tangled hair in a soothing manner. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” you blubbered. If you had been even a smidge calmer, you would have been embarrassed about sobbing into your sister’s training kit in front of most of the team. 

“Don’t apologize, Solstråle. Everything is okay.” She soothed, looking over your shoulder at Mapi, before pulling away from the hug to examine your face. She frowned deeply at the damage that had been inflicted, trying to shove her anger down. It would only scare you further, and you really didn’t need that right now. 

“It hurts,” you whimpered, flinching as Ingrid’s finger accidentally made contact with an already forming bruise. The way you were acting was so out of character for you, Ingrid felt her worry growing by the second. You were so upset, you were shaking and sobbing. It hadn’t really occurred to anyone how triggering this might be for you, what a reminder this fight would be. Not just of what had happened a few months ago, but of your time in Norway. There wasn’t a fight you’d gotten into that you didn’t have to take care of your own cuts and bruises. No one ever heard you out, no one was ever not mad at you. 

A fight had been the last straw before you were sent to Spain, and it was as if all the feelings you’d repressed during those occasions were flooding back through your body, until your nervous system was in overdrive. 

“Solstråle,” Ingrid said again, trying to get your attention back on her. You hummed in response, forcing your eyes to focus on your sister. “Two options, okay? We can have the physios patch your face up, or we can go see a doctor. What would you prefer?”

It was something Mapi had read in her definitely-not-a-parenting parenting book. Giving you options in a situation you were anxious about forced you to calm down a bit, and choose. It gave you a sense of control, while still ensuring that you did what had to be done. 

“Physios.” You told her, after just a minute of consideration. “Go back to training, Ingrid. I’ll be okay.” 

You were trying to be brave, Ingrid could tell. She allowed you this façade, and with both an encouraging smile and a promise that she’d come see you in a minute, she ran back to the pitch. Mapi led you inside, her arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. 

The physios were a tolerable experience, completely allowing Mapi to direct them. They didn’t touch you unless you agreed, each time asking before they made sure your lip was okay, or inspected a forming bruise. You very rarely got to see intense Mapi off the pitch, and it was interesting to see it now. When she spoke to the physios, asking question after question about your injuries, she was dead serious. When she turned to you, though, to shoot you an encouraging smile or squeeze your hand, she was back to being the Mapi you knew. 

She took care of you like you were her own. 

------

Upon returning home, Ingrid refused to let you retreat to your room and hide yourself away. You’d spent too long alone, when you’d first arrived. She was going to support you, and she intended to prove that. 

So, you laid on the couch, your head in your sister’s lap, a Norwegian sitcom playing on the TV. Ingrid was holding ice to one of your eyes, glaring down at you anytime you tried to remove the other ice laid across your knuckles. Mapi was making pancakes in the kitchen, at your request. Scout was on the floor next to the couch, though he picked his head up to check on you every few minutes. 

You were home, and you couldn’t help but compare today to the last time.

Ingrid had come to the school, and been furious at you. Today, she was furious for you. 

They’d left you that night, to go off to some team dinner. Now, you weren’t quite sure that Ingrid was going to let you out of her sight for at least a few days. 

You’d been alone, then, and now you weren’t. 

And though today had been pretty horrific, it was another little reminder of how different everything was. You loved those reminders, and you got them often. You tried to remember each one, how good it felt. To be loved, to be seen. To be liked. To be cared for. It was new, and it always surprised you a little. Every time something happened, and you remembered what it had been like to be alone, Ingrid and Mapi were there to remind you that you weren’t anymore. 

-

-

-

It was just one of those days. 

You wanted to stay home, like you wanted to on that day. Before, when everything in the house had been tense and you’d barely spoken to your sister. School had been difficult back then, not that it wasn’t now, but more difficult. Ingrid knew how much you were struggling, but assumed it was a lack of effort on your part. And so, when you quietly asked her if you could stay home because you weren’t feeling the best, Ingrid hadn’t believed you. 

“Ingrid, please. I really don’t feel well.” You begged, fighting back the tears that were pricking at your eyes, even though you knew that they would probably help your case. 

“How? What doesn’t feel well?” Ingrid asked, trying to be patient. Your hatred of school was starting to bother her. She didn’t understand why you wouldn’t just try a little harder. At your work, and at making friends. 

You floundered for a minute, not sure how to describe what you were feeling. You supposed the word was depressed, but there was no way you’d admit to that. Ingrid didn’t need to worry about you like you knew she would if she understood what was really going on. At the same time, you wished desperately that she would see through your excuses. 

You’d been silent for too long, and Ingrid sighed, zipping up her bag for training and walking over to you. She didn’t look sympathetic, exactly, but she didn’t look as harsh as she normally did. 

“I know school is hard. But skipping isn’t going to make anything better, okay? You just need to try a little harder.” She said, resting her hands on your shoulders and looking intently at your face. As usual, your expression gave very little away. All you gave her was a small shrug, before you picked your bag up with a sigh and headed for the car. 

You were trying your best. How couldn’t she see that?

It hit you similarly today, as it had on that day.

 You wanted to lay in your bed and not move. Your body was heavier than normal. Breathing was hard, moving was harder. All you could do was think. And think, and think, and think. It wasn’t sadness that you felt, not necessarily. It was exhaustion, and an almost numb ache. 

You were pretty sure Ingrid wouldn’t make you go to school if you told her the truth, you just weren’t really sure what to say. It was nearing the time you were supposed to leave for school, though, and you still hadn’t gotten out of bed. It would only be a matter of time before Mapi came in to see why you hadn’t left your room yet. So, you dragged yourself out of bed, your whole body feeling too heavy, and you walked downstairs. 

Ingrid was in the kitchen, eating breakfast while Mapi made all three of your coffees. Your sister turned to look at you, her good morning dying on her lips when she saw the look on your face. It must have been pretty bad, if Ingrid’s reaction was any indication. 

“Are you feeling okay?” Ingrid asked, abandoning her breakfast to walk closer and place her hand on your forehead, checking for a fever. 

“No.” You said honestly, trying to breathe through the panic that always accompanied honesty. Mapi joined Ingrid in front of you, her brow creased in concern. She couldn’t figure out from looking at you what was going on, you just looked… wrong. Unlike yourself. 

“Are you sick?” 

“No. I just… I don’t feel right.” 

“What do you mean, Sol? What’s wrong?” Mapi asked, nudging Ingrid’s hand off your forehead to replace it with her own. 

“I don’t know how to explain it. I just want to go back to sleep.” You mumbled, a single tear falling down your face.

“Try to explain it to me?” Ingrid requested. You knew it was a request, though, and that made it easier to answer her. Her worry for you was coming off her in waves, and though you were pretty sure it was warranted, you didn’t want her to panic. 

“It’s just a bad day. I’ll be okay.”  

 Ingrid and Mapi exchanged glances, before your sister nodded slowly. You often described tough mental health days as simply  bad days. You didn’t like to be overly descriptive, or really admit what was going on, and that was the closest you’d get. 

“Okay, kjære. Go back up to bed.” 

“Thanks,” you muttered, moving to turn away. 

“Wait,” Mapi said, grabbing you by the arm and tugging you into a hug that was probably too tight, but felt nice all the same. Mapi’s hugs were always comforting, always made you feel safe. “You’ll be okay here by yourself?” 

You knew what she was asking, and you tried to speak clearly, even with your chin resting on the Spaniard’s shoulder. “I will, promise.” 

As soon as Mapi had released you, Ingrid was pressing a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that never really failed to make you emotional. You remember seeing your parents kiss her forehead when you were growing up. And while your parents never really did the same with you, Ingrid had. She was always willing to give you the love she was overflowing with, especially when you were sorely lacking it. 

“I love you, okay? Call me if you need me.” Ingrid said firmly, almost as if to reinforce how much she meant it. 

You agreed, promising yourself that you wouldn’t interrupt training. You knew they’d already be distracted by being worried about you, and you didn’t want to ruin their day anymore than you already were. 

The logical part of you knew this was ridiculous. It was getting easier and easier to identify unhealthy thoughts, but a part of you still believed them. Especially when you were already having a bad day. You didn’t want to be any more of a burden than you already were. 

You were the farthest thing from a burden for Ingrid and Mapi, but it was an almost insurmountable challenge to actually believe that. 

-------

You’d hoped, perhaps, that by resting right off the bat, you’d escape the worst of the depressive episode. This was a naive thought. Or maybe, you would have if you’d asked your sister to stay home with you. 

You really really didn’t want to be alone. It had been a while since you hadn’t felt safe around yourself, but here you were again. You thought you were done with this, over this. It was upsetting to realize that you weren’t, not completely. That this wasn’t something you could just… get over. It was a result of your brain chemistry as much as your lived experiences, and you could be smothered with all the love in the world. That wouldn’t fix the genuine problem inside your head. 

You were asleep when Ingrid got home. 

Her and Mapi weren’t expecting you to call them, even if you needed them, but they had texted you during a break and gotten no answer. Mapi tried not to speed home, but it was difficult when Ingrid was an anxious mess next to her in the passenger seat. 

Upon arriving home, Ingrid dumped her bag right in the entry hall, not bothering to put it away like she normally did, and went right up to your room, sighing in relief at the sight of you in front of her. Mapi was right behind her, melting a bit at the way Scout was perched on the end of your bed protectively, and Bagheera was curled up against your chest. Both of them were taking care of you, she was sure. Bagheera would get a treat and some extra pets, for sure. And Scout would too, but when no one was looking. She had a reputation to uphold, after all.

You awoke to the feeling of someone brushing their fingers through your hair. The reaction you had was different now than it had been a month ago, and Ingrid had done the same thing. Then, you’d startled awake, not used to the gentle touch. Now, you just shifted slightly, content to stay asleep as Ingrid settled on the bed next to you. 

You felt Scout get off the bed, and Mapi begrudgingly agree to take him on a walk. You knew she was faking her dislike of your dog at this point, but it was more fun to go along with it and catch her napping with Scout or giving him extra treats. 

It was only when the cat sneezed rather dramatically on your chest that you cracked an eye open, unimpressed with the lack of decorum from Bagheera. Ingrid was trying to stifle her laughter and you rolled your eyes, stretching and wiping the imaginary sneeze particles off your face. 

“Hi.” You murmured, voice rough with sleep… and with crying, but you were hoping to keep that to yourself. 

Ingrid smiled at you, eyes crinkling at the edges in the way they'd started to recently. It was something Mapi’s eyes did and while you weren’t sure how Ingrid had picked that up from her girlfriend, there was no question in your mind that she had. “Hi. How are you?” 

You shrugged, the momentary distractions from your feelings fading as everything came screeching back into focus. 

“Have you been crying?” Ingrid murmured, eyes stuck on the tear tracks staining your face. 

“A bit. I’m fine.” You replied, trying your best to shake off her concern. 

“You should have called me.” Your sister sighed. 

You shook your head, sitting up against the headboard. It was then that you noticed for the first time that your sister was still in her training kit, when normally she’d shower and change after a session. Her and Mapi must have rushed home. The thought sent a weird feeling through your body; not bad… just different. 

 “No, I was fine. You had training, you can’t miss that for no reason.” 

“There's not no reason. You were having a bad day, and you needed us. Why didn’t you call?”

You shrugged, but Ingrid continued to stare at you, awaiting an answer. “I didn’t want to make you choose between me and football.” you mumbled, picking at a hangnail and avoiding eye contact with your sister. She grabbed your hand though, and used her other hand to tilt your chin up until you were looking at her. 

“There is no choice, Solstråle. I will always come when you need me. It could be the middle of the champions league final, or the middle of training, and I would drop everything to get to you. So would María.” 

You grew teary, trying your best to not cry again. “Okay.” Your voice broke, and Ingrid felt like a piece of her heart went with it. 

“Sol, I mean it. You are more important than any football match or training could ever be. More important than anything else could ever be. You are the most important thing to me.” 

Your expression grew disbelieving, almost stunned. “I’m not worth all that,” 

Ingrid tried not to groan in frustration. It wouldn’t have been fair to make you think she was upset with you, when she was upset with your parents, and with herself. “You are! Solstråle, you are worth that and more.” 

You were getting better, definitely. But your self esteem was always something you struggled with, something you always probably would. No matter how convinced you were, now, that Ingrid and Mapi loved you and wanted you in Spain with them, you still couldn’t comprehend that you were important to them. 

“It just… it wasn’t like that before. I’m not used to this.”

Ingrid’s face fell. “I know. I know you aren’t. But I promise you, sweetheart, even before, even when we argued all the time and I was so hard on you. I cared then just as much as I do now. I just didn’t understand how to help you. But I do now, right? It’s better now?” 

A more confident nod from you. “A lot better.” 

Your sister smiled gently. “I know you’ve felt really alone these last few years. But you aren’t anymore, okay? I’m right here with you.” 

There was something behind her words that felt like a promise, but it wasn’t necessarily a promise you needed to hear. It was one Ingrid had already made through her actions. And through the flood of doubts and insecurities, you knew that she wouldn’t break that promise. 

In that moment, you hated how hard it was for you to be vulnerable. How difficult it was for you to put words to your feelings, and express your appreciation and love for your sister. All you could do was try, though, right?

“Ingrid?” You mumbled after a minute of silence. Ingrid hummed in acknowledgement, squeezing your hand. “You… everything you’ve done for me. You’re just… you’re my favorite person. And I love you.” 

Ingrid could have sobbed, truly. She, too, had struggled to share her feelings her whole life, as you had. She knew just how much it took for you to say something so sincere, and not even make a joke after it. The brunette pulled you in closer to her, leaving a kiss on the side of your head. 

“You know that, right?” You wondered, after Ingrid hadn’t responded right away. She was trying to keep the deep emotion out of her voice, not wanting to make this moment even more difficult for you than she knew it already was. When you turned to look at her, though, catching her just as a tear slid down your face, you understood. 

“I do know, Solstråle. And I love you, so much, min perfekte lillesøster.” 

It didn't really matter as much, that you didn’t think you were perfect. Because for as long as you could remember, Ingrid had been the perfect one. And now she thought you were, too, and that was enough. 

“You’re my favorite person, too.” Ingrid added as an afterthought, pulling you into an even tighter hug. “Just don’t tell-”

“AHEM.” Mapi cleared her throat from the doorway. You whipped your head to look at her, both of you breaking into a fit of giggles at the sight of the very disgruntled defender standing in the doorway. “Well, your not favorite person just came up here to say that she was going to go get you both ice cream, but now…”

It was rather difficult to stop laughing, what with Mapi standing there with her arms crossed, a frown on her face, one foot stomp away from throwing a temper tantrum. You and Ingrid pulled yourselves together, forcing serious expressions onto your faces. 

“Mapi, I was just trying to make Ingrid feel better about herself. You are my favorite. Of course.” 

“Me too, mi amor. You are my favorite.” Ingrid grinned, before very obviously winking at you. 

With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Mapi turned on her heel and headed downstairs. “I am going to poison your ice cream.” She shouted over her shoulder. 

Mapi was far from upset. It was enough for her that you seemed a bit better, and that her girlfriend’s anxiety had definitely lessened. Although, the day had clearly taken its toll on you and Ingrid, because when Mapi arrived home with the ice cream, she found you both passed out in your bed, your head resting on your sister’s shoulder. 

-

-

-

You swore as you slipped in the small puddle of water on the kitchen floor, almost instantly losing your balance and falling with a thud. The mug you’d been holding fell, too, shattering on impact with the floor. You heard Ingrid call your name, evidently startled by the sound, and moved to sit up on instinct. Instead of putting your hand down on the cold floor, though, you smashed it right down into a pile of mug shards. 

“Jævel!” You shouted, almost jumping at the burst of pain and bringing your hand to your chest. It was bleeding heavily, and you gasped, startled by the amount of blood flowing out of your hand. “Ow, ow, ow,” you winced, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. 

“Sol? You okay?” Ingrid shouted from the top of the stairs. 

You tried to reply, but Mapi beat you to it, appearing in front of  you out of nowhere. “No, she cut her hand. Ven aquí! And bring a clean towel!” The Spaniard shouted, grabbing the broom from the closet and hastily sweeping the shards away from you so she could safely get closer. 

“I’m sorry, Mapi, I’m so sorry,” you said shakily, sure that you were about to be in trouble for not being more careful. The water spill was your fault in the first place, and then it was what you slipped on. Now, you’d broken one of their favorite mugs, and you were getting blood all over the kitchen. 

Mapi only had time to look at you, confused, before Ingrid came running into the room holding a hand towel from upstairs. 

“Jesus, Sol,” Ingrid murmured, crouching down next to where you were and reaching for your hand. You mistook her statement as one of frustration, and not one of worry, and flinched away from her in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. 

“I’m sorry Ingrid, I broke the mug,” you cried. 

Ingrid exchanged a look with her girlfriend, before turning back to you. There was blood all over your shirt, dripping down where your good hand cradled the injured one. Your face was frighteningly pale, and you looked completely terrified. Ingrid paused, though all she wanted to do was get some pressure on your hand, forcing herself to calm down a bit. She wasn’t sure why you were reacting the way you were, but she knew by now to take it seriously. 

“Don’t worry about the mug.” Ingrid said gently, holding her hand out again. “Let me see, Sol.” 

With a pained whimper, you placed your hand in hers. Only then did you look at the wound, and both Mapi and Ingrid watched in alarm as the remaining color drained from your face. 

Ingrid knew what was coming a second before it happened, hastily trying to cover your hand with the towel as you started to sway where you were sitting. “Fuck, she’s gonna pass out,” she warned, unable to catch you as she pressed the towel into your hand, trying to get the bleeding to stop. 

Mapi dropped to her knees just as your eyes rolled back into your head, and you fell limp into her arms. “Ingrid,” she cried, overcome with panic. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s just bad with blood.” Ingrid assured her. She pulled the towel away temporarily to look at your hand, and saw a long slice across your palm. It wasn’t deep, and though you might have nicked a vein, Ingrid was pretty sure you wouldn’t need stitches. Readjusting the towel over your hand, she tried to give her girlfriend a calming smile. “It’s really okay, María. I promise, she just really hates blood.” 

“She passed out!” Mapi yelped. “This does not feel okay!”

Ingrid bit back a laugh, knowing this wasn’t the time or the place. “She’ll wake up in a few minutes, just hold this towel while I get some water for her.” 

Mapi took over with the towel, allowing your head to drop into her lap as Ingrid walked across the kitchen. 

“Ingrid, do we have any smelling salts?” She wondered, poking your cheek a few times as your eyes remained firmly shut. 

“Why, yes, María, let me go check my potion making kit.” 

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm at the moment.” Mapi grumbled, again poking your face as your eyes started to scrunch together. You looked uncomfortable, and Mapi braced herself for you to wake back up and freak out again. Instead, you stayed unconscious for a few more seconds, unbeknownst to the Spaniard, reliving a memory you’d… kind of forgotten. 

When the picture frame shattered on the wood floor, all you felt was panic. It was panic that led you to lean down and try to collect the pieces of glass in your hands. A second, much quieter crash was heard as a piece of glass shifted in your hand, cutting your finger open. 

You’d never been good with blood, and you felt yourself getting lightheaded at just the sight of the small rivulets of blood forming across the cut. You shut your eyes tightly, all thoughts of being afraid of getting in trouble for breaking the picture frame flew out of your mind, and you were turning and shouting before you could stop yourself. 

“Mamma! Mamma!” You yelled, growing dizzier and dizzier. 

“Stop yelling, my goodness.” Mamma said, walking calmly into the room. She came to a sudden stop at the sight of the picture frame broken in front of you, before her face grew cold and mean. “What have you done!” 

“I-I- I bumped the table and it fell and I tried to clean it up, but my finger, Mamma,” you cried, missing the anger on your moms face and leaning towards her for comfort as she moved closer. 

“This is my favorite picture of your sister, couldn't you have been more careful! You are always breaking things, always making a mess. I am so tired of you and the stupid things you do when you don’t pay attention.” Mamma ranted, picking up the pieces of glass and making sure the picture was unharmed. “I should be the one crying, you broke my picture frame!” 

Your stomach twisted at her tone, and at the drops of blood that were hitting the floor at your feet. You tried to fight it, knowing it would only make her more upset, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Keeling over, you threw up on the ground, whimpering as your mother gasped in surprise. 

“What-”

“Mamma, my finger,” you sobbed, holding out the bloodied appendage towards your mother. 

Some of the confusion left your Mamma’s eyes, knowing just how poorly you handled any kind of injury, on anyone. 

“Oh, goodness. Come with me.” She said, not completely unkindly as she led you into the kitchen. There, she wrapped your finger up with a dish towel, holding pressure on it as you sniffled and hiccuped. She brushed a few flyaways out of your face, your hair always coming loose no matter how tight Ingrid braided it. 

At the kind gesture, you relaxed a bit. Maybe she wasn’t as mad anymore. Cautiously, you allowed yourself to step in closer to her. “Hurts, Mamma.” 

Some emotion, of what you weren’t sure, flashed across the older woman’s face and she sighed. “You’ll be fine. It is just a little cut. It is just a little blood, kjære. You are 8 years old. And 8 years old is too big to be getting this worked up over a small cut.” 

“Sorry, Mamma.” You mumbled, scrubbing at your eyes with your good hand. You took a few deep breaths, trying to stop crying even as pain burned through your finger, and all you wanted was a hug. 

“Alright, no more blood, see? Now go get a bandaid while I clean up your mess.” 

“Okay, Mamma.” 

She sent you off with a kiss on the top of your head, but as you climbed the stairs, you heard the garage door open. That meant Ingrid was home. You knew she’d had a long day, but you couldn’t help the way your body sagged in relief now that she was home. Now that you’d get a hug. 

That was, until you heard Mamma’s voice addressing your sister downstairs, as you rifled through the bandaid box, looking for a yellow one. 

“Look what your sister did.” Mamma sighed. She sounded so disappointed, and you promised yourself to do better. Next time, you wouldn’t throw up. And you would clean up the mess all by yourself. Then, Mamma would be proud of you. Then, maybe she’d give you a hug.

When you came to, Mapi’s face was hovering ridiculously close to yours, and you jolted away from her. 

“Sol! You’re awake!” 

You tried to sit up, just as Ingrid’s voice rang from across the room. “Do not let her sit up yet, she’ll only make herself more dizzy.” 

Mapi’s hands pushed your shoulders back to the ground and you frowned, seeing Ingrid appear above you holding the broom. 

“No, Ingrid, I’ll clean it up,” you said weakly, even as your stomach turned at the sight of a bloody rag in your sister’s hand. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Ingrid dismissed. “You stay right there until you feel better.” 

Ingrid cleaned up the ceramic shards, and you wondered just how upset she’d be that you’d broken the mug. It was her and Mapi’s favorite. They had made it together in some pottery class, and they often fought over who got to use it in the morning for coffee. And you’d gone and broken it. Ingrid didn’t seem mad yet, but she would be… right?

 After a few minutes of Mapi gently combing through your hair, she finally helped you sit up. Your sister appeared in front of you once again, first aid kit in hand, and sat down on the ground.  She moved slowly as she reached for your hand, trying not to startle you. You held it out to her, leaning against Mapi and inhaling shakily. 

“I looked when you were out, I don’t think you need stitches.” Your sister assured you, pausing when you only gave a short nod. “You okay? Do you feel sick?” 

You shook your head firmly, clenching your jaw shut tight. Ingrid still didn’t unwrap the towel from your palm, still focused on the uneven way you were breathing, and the slightly green tint to your face.  

Mapi rubbed her hand up and down your back comfortingly, exchanging a look with your sister. “It’s okay if you feel sick, Sol. Just tell me and we can get you a bag or something.”

“No. I’m fine. I don’t get sick when I see blood anymore.” You said, sounding almost angry. 

Since when? Ingrid thought. Still, she got to work disinfecting your hand and cleaning it up. Once she’d wrapped a large bandage around it, having tried her best to ignore the way your good hand was clenched into a fist so tight it looked painful. 

Once your sister was done, she helped you to your feet, holding her arms open for a hug. You looked between her and Mapi suspiciously, a frown set on your face. “You’re… not mad?” 

“Why would we be mad?” Ingrid wondered, leading you into the living room, having decided to make you rest on the sofa for a while until you looked less ill. 

You followed her lead, albeit still sounding very confused. “Because… I made a mess. And I didn’t clean it up. And I broke your favorite mug.” 

Ingrid couldn’t figure out what you were so worked up about. “It wasn’t on purpose, Sol. And you were hurt, why would you clean it up?” 

“I should have been more careful. And it was my mess. I should have… I should have cleaned it up.” 

It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself of something, a somewhat vacant expression on your face. Ingrid had the familiar sinking feeling in her stomach. It was the one that appeared whenever your sister discovered another piece of the puzzle; the puzzle of why you were the way you were, why you’d left Norway. Most of the time, the pieces were intrinsically linked to your mother. And Ingrid really hated that. 

So, she wasn’t quite sure what the specific issue in this situation was. But she knew you well enough to know what would make you feel better. Taking a seat on the couch next to you, your sister brought you into a tight hug, feeling the way you froze at first, before melting into her. 

“I don’t care about the mess.” She promised, before she leaned back, her expression contradicting her words slightly as she took in the blood on your shirt. 

You smiled weakly at her, not quite sure you believed her words. “I’ll go change-”

“No!” Ingrid interrupted. “I’ll go get you a new shirt, yeah? You just stay here.”  

With that, your sister took off up the stairs, and you were left in deep thought on the couch. Mapi took Ingrid’s spot pretty quickly, handing you a glass of water to sip from as she studied your expression. 

Mapi nudged you with her knee. “What are you thinking about?” 

“I broke a picture frame once. It was of Ingrid and Mamma, and the picture was completely fine but the glass broke and I cut my finger on it. But my mom was really mad about the mess. She said she was tired of me and the messes I made. I just… thought you’d be upset. It was your guys’ favorite mug. I thought you’d be mad.” 

Understanding dawned across Mapi’s face and she scooted closer, until her shoulder pressed to yours. “I don’t care about the mug. And neither does your sister. We’re both just glad you’re okay, that’s all we care about.” 

“Really?” You asked in a small voice. 

“Sol, you could break everything in this house, crash my motorbike, and ruin my favorite sweatshirt. And I’d still want you here. I’d still love you, nena.” Mapi assured you, not a single trace of doubt detectable in her voice. 

You looked away from her, the eye contact combined with her words proving to be too much. “I love you too.” You choked out, still looking away from Mapi, but leaning closer into her. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

“How could you not? I am the best.” Mapi said seriously. 

And then the tears in your eyes were forgotten as you laughed, always shocked at Mapi’s ability to take your mind off something emotional. Always shocked, but always so grateful. 

When Ingrid reentered the room with one of her shirts in hand, it was to find you and María in absolute hysterics on the couch, your hand and whatever had upset you so greatly before completely forgotten. 

She’d thought she loved Mapi as much as a person could love another person, before you’d arrived in Spain. And then she’d picked you up from the airport, a shell of yourself, angry and hostile. And she’d watched Mapi chip away at all the anger and all the sadness. She’d watched as you became you again, with Mapi’s help.

Ingrid wasn’t stupid. She knew she’d helped you, too. But you were her sister. Mapi had no obligation to you, yet… here she was. 

And Ingrid realized that her love for María Pilar León Cebrián had grown exponentially in the past few months. Because she’d gotten to see Mapi grow to love you. Her favorite person in the world. It was so much love, she thought some days that her heart might burst.  

Ingrid hated the process of getting you here, and of everything that had happened for you that had been so incredibly difficult. But she couldn’t pretend she didn’t love the family she got as a result. 

------

hahahaHAHAHA IM FINE im FINE

i love sol.

ps. please tell me if you see any typos okay goodnight

[keruimi]

Your Dream

Pairing: Obanai Iguro x reader

Warnings: Mention of Sexual Abuse, Death, Total Angst

Note: It has a similar plot with my other Obanai Oneshot but why do I feel like this hurts more? Anyways, I am back to writing Kny especially when it's angst. And yes, it's Obanai Iguro again, my favorite character. The only reason I wrote this is because of the Obamitsu Angst in my fyp like stop reminding me, it really hurts. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it because I don't want to suffer alone.

____________________________

It was a normal life I live, working as an average kakushi who is mostly assigned in the kitchen.

When an odd request from Oyakata-sama changes my routine. When he assigned me to deliver meals to the new pillar, the Snake Hashira, Obanai Iguro.

At the age of eighteen, I finally experienced the anger of a Hashira with just my presence.

Knowing I was silent my whole life, I never found the reason why the Hashira glared at me on our first meeting.

I can't even count how many meals have been ignored or thrown whenever I deliver it to him.

Feeding the Snake Hashira became part of my routine that I completely memorize the route of his manor since he doesn't want anyone to be with him.

"Y/n, please take care of Obanai Iguro's health for me"

Those are the words I hold onto as I tolerated the cold treatment of the Hashira.

I lost track of the times I stay outside the freezing cold when he doesn't want to open his door for me.

It became more torturing when my heart suddenly beat faster when he started treating me differently after a year.

When he finally started to accept the food I cooked and delivered to his manor. Even if he can't finish it, I am thankful that it wouldn't become a waste anymore.

I knew our simple interaction progressed more when he allowed me to come closer to his space. Even a job that I shouldn't be doing, I'm doing it for him.

Like cleaning his manor, grinding ink for him, and helping him sort different poetry he has written.

Those simple moments introduce me to the new side of him that I slowly fell in love with.

It made me want to try harder until the walls he built around him completely fall down.

Until he can finally open his heart to me.

But that friendship I tried to stabilize, brick by brick, became nothing when he met her in the Ubuyashiki mansion.

My effort is almost nothing with how easy she manages to make him soften to her.

And I started to look for the reasons why.

The friendship I tried so hard to build is ruined and I felt like I went back to the first time we met.

The cautious aura that made it difficult for me to connect to him.

And I knew those thoughts are really happening when the food I brought is left untouched.

"I have already eaten with Mitsuri"

It was the sentence I kept hearing but I didn't stop doing my duty of making his food for him.

Because I learned to love taking care of him.

Those tasty delicacies I used to love cooking, change when I noticed he was disgusted just by the smell of it.

I adjusted so many things that I completely forgot what I really love.

Just to serve him right.

I prevent the cough that is threatening to leave my mouth as I grind ink for the Hashira I am serving.

As he wrote the letter he always sent to her.

It was breaking me. But I have no right to feel anything for him.

I already knew ever since, that a high-ranking warrior like him is not meant to love me.

But the weak side of me silently yearn that he can return it.

But seeing how in love he is with another woman. I knew I never had a place in his heart.

But just a mere presence that accompanies him in the garden.

I was just a shadow he would never notice. A person that serves him, and he would not change his perspective on me.

I was beside him so I could serve him, not to love him.

I wipe the single tear and escape my eyes before he notices as I force my body to move according to what he wishes.

While he remained clueless of my emotion that I tried so hard to get rid of.

The emotion that broke my heart when I saw the ring in his room while I was cleaning.

I could never look at the mirror just to see how my eyes portrayed the pain I felt when I saw it.

"Obanai-san really liked Mitsuri, don't you?" I mustered up the courage to speak my thoughts with a slight teasing tone as my back faced him.

I bit my lip to stop the sob that is threatening to be heard as I heard shuffling behind me.

"Obanai-san must treat Mitsuri-san right. Marriage is a dream for every woman. Especially when they will have a good man to love" I turned to him with a smile as I slowly opened my eyes and saw how soft his eyes turned because of embarrassment.

I don't know his past. I don't know what he loves.

I don't know Obanai Iguro.

But I know he has a hard time trusting others.

"I hope you both live a happy life" I managed to let out but it came out as a whisper as I took my things and left the room.

I froze the moment I left his manor as the tears I managed to subside finally escaped my eyes as I found myself crying on the way back to the village I live in.

I knew it was coming but my heart won't stop aching. My eyes can't stop crying. My mouth can't stop sobbing.

I really love him.

But he is not mine.

~•°•~

I lost track of the years when the female kakushi started to serve me.

The only woman I allow to enter my manor with the excuse of serving me.

Because I thought of changing myself even a little no matter how much I feel fear or disgusted by a female approaching me.

Because she gave effort to providing me with the most comfortable thing I needed. Especially during my meal time.

Starting with a simple window being opened, creating less flavorful food that I can tolerate.

I knew she was adjusting for me so I let her presence in my everyday life. Until that became like a friendship I was thankful for.

I can talk to someone about things without including battles.

I love her like a family.

That explained how my body felt frozen when I heard the news of what happened to her on the way to my manor.

The news of her being taken advantage of by a man who manages to memorize her route to my manor due to her everyday routine of walking her way there.

The anger I felt was unexplainable that I can find myself hurting a fellow human.

I knew humans can be evil, but I didn't know I could hate them more than I hate demons.

But I thought I made a mistake too.

If I just let her stay in my manor so she wouldn't exert too much energy just for my food, I could protect her better.

I know I'm slowly losing control when my self-restraint almost fell apart when I visited her quarters and I found her silently sitting at the corner of her room, hugging her knees.

As the spark in her eyes completely vanishes.

"She refused to eat nor let another woman near her. When the others approach her, she flinches. We don't know how to approach her anymore" the Kakushi who led me to her room stuttered out as I felt my hand grip the wooden door in anger.

Yet my eyes badly wanted to cry for her.

"Shinobu tried to check on her but she started to cry whether she was near. We just confirm the situation when the evidence of the sexual abuse was present in her body when we found her unconscious in the forest"

"Stop talking" I snap at him who immediately keeps his mouth shut as my snake hiss at him who scurried away.

"Y/n, it's me" I knocked on the door even though it was already open to make her aware of my presence in the room.

I don't know how I control my voice who I thought will be expressed in a trembled tone.

I am a man.

That is the first thought that came to my mind that made me decide to sit at the floor near the door.

"Obanai Iguro, you know me, right?" I spoke again and she kept her silence making my hands tighten its hold on my pants.

I'm not used to this side of her.

"Are you scared of me?" I asked slowly as silence occupied the entire room before she shook her head a little.

"May I come closer?"

With that question, I notice how her hands tighten on the blanket surrounding her making me release a shaky breath.

I never knew I was willing to hurt a fellow human just for her.

It made me want to make the man suffer badly. Worse than what he did to her.

"I'm sorry" I was left speechless when those were left on her lips and I immediately shook my head.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong. It was them that wronged you" I am not good at words but I wanted to completely express my concern and pain for her.

I badly wanted to avenge her.

"It was me who should apologize because I was not there for you"

"I am not your responsibility..." She whispered and I shook my head once again, wishing for her to look at me even once so she can see how badly I am hurt for what she has experience.

How desperate I am to show she was not alone during this time.

"You are. Because you are important to me" I felt tears in my eyes as Kaburamaru slithered his way to her and slowly circled around her shoulder in a protective manner.

"I am tainted..."

"You're not" I firmly stated. "I am the tainted one between the two of us" those words quickly left my lips without any hesitations and she finally had the courage to look in my direction.

"So don't look at yourself that way. For me, you are still the same Y/n that accompanied me" I stuttered out as I tried to stabilize my breathing.

"I will seek justice for you. That's a promise"

I saw how a tear left her eyes as she looked outside the window. Removing her gaze on me.

"In our generation, marriage is every woman's dreams. Is a symbol of acceptance. Is where you will really feel you are loved and chosen by someone" she whispered.

"But in order to be chosen, you need to be pure, compliant, and well-mannered. That's what it takes to be a good wife" she stated as Kaburamaru nuzzled his head on her cheek when he noticed her difficulty in breathing.

I badly want to lend her my shoulder to lean on, an advice to make her mind clear. But in this situation, we both knew she just needed an ear to listen to her.

Someone to comfort her with just presence.

"But if you don't meet those requirements, you will be shunned by society. You will lose the qualification that a wife has."

"Right now, I will not be the wife of someone. I will not be married to a man I will dedicate my life to. Because I don't have my purity that only my husband should have." She whispered.

It was a painful word to state out loud. But right now, I can't read her.

Because she completely closed off her emotions.

"I don't fit the standard that a wife should have." She whispered as she buried herself in her blanket that hid herself from me.

"And it hurted so badly"

I closed my eyes when she spoke those words.

And I hate myself because I can't do anything for her but just torture her attacker.

"What else is your dream other than marriage?" I ask her as she closes her eyes to rest it for a little while.

"I want to meet the one that is willing to spend their entire life with me" it was a hopeful wish.

Silence occupy the room and I thought she fall asleep until she whispered the words I never expected to hear from her.

"I love you..." It was barely heard but I knew it was the words she hide for so long.

That made it known to me that I could grant that dream to her.

But I decide to give her the time she needs to heal from that painful experience.

She needs to heal.

Those are the thoughts I could only think of as I laid her down in her bed in a more comfortable position when I noticed she had finally fallen asleep.

But I never expected that it would be the last time I would see her with her eyes open.

Because when I came back the next day, the news of her death was the one that greeted me.

It was a nocturnal death because her heart failed during her sleep.

It finally felt like my whole world collapsed and my mind completely shut down.

If it weren't for Sanemi being beside me, I would have completely fallen on the floor as I kneel in front of her room.

It hurts.

I wanted it to stop.

But I know that nothing could make her happy anymore.

Because that nightmare would continue living within her for the rest of her life.

I never manage to cherish her smiles more. I only shrugged the moments I have with her because I thought we would stay that way.

That I never knew I was running out of time.

It took every cell in my body to approach her cold body that is covered with white cloth as I kneeled beside her.

I silently slid the ring that she found on my mansion in her finger as tears continued escaping from my eyes as Sanemi just stood behind me.

I lost someone who made me feel like I have the family I never have.

In this life, we were parted to heal.

But I will make sure that her wish will be granted.

"In this life" I started to whisper as my lips lean on her fingers where the ring stays.

"As God as my witness, I promise to take you as my bride. Give myself as your other half" I keep mumbling as I squeeze her cold hand as tears continue to fall from my eyes.

"That even death can never separate us. Because in our next life, I'll make sure, that I will utter this words to you again"

And in that life, you will be alive to hear it

[causenessus]

cold kisses

part 0.5. PINK DYE

PLAYING FROM KODZUKEN'S STREAM . . . i hope that you think of me by pity part (girls club)

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

y/n woke up early and decided to text kenma immediately bc she was feeling a little nervous about everything

suna and iwa told her to ask casual so she was trying so hard to act normal she maybe failed a little

in her defense kenma also wasn't helping with how monotone he was and then a sudden smiley face bc kuroo saw that they were texting and immediately scolded him saying "why do you text like you've never experienced an emotion in your life? you need smiley faces or something"

kenma bought y/n flowers when they went out for coffee playing it off as "i thought it'd be cool to take a picture with"

he didn't even expect y/n to take a picture since nothing had really been released on her side about a boyfriend yet but she thought he was so sweet and wanted to post it anyway

kenma trying to be romantic and noya's i feel so sigma on the same page killed me for some reason

like two (2) people asked atsumu how working with y/n was and he took it as "i must tell the people how i feel about her and shoot my shot"

no ukai really didn't have to be in here but i love him okay i love my pretty princess and i wanted him in here as someone's father please tolerate me

ukai is the kind of guy that drops dad lore at the most random times like you'll be talking about something and then he's suddenly like "oh the stanley hotel? yeah i worked there for a few years 😐" (real story a drama teacher has dropped on me)

and the only way anyone can respond is "ukai ur a coach when did u have the time to work at the stanley hotel and why did u quit"

taglist: @rinheartshyunlix @kettlepop @eggyrocks @cr4yolaas @httpakkeiji @keioover @does-directions @calx-bdo @staygoldsquatchling02 @cherrypieyourface @iluv-ace @kitty-m30w @h3xi2g0n3 @mylahrins @thechaosoflonging @momoriii-i @localgaytrainwreck @a-pastel-edgelord @bugglesboop @polish-cereal @osakis-gf @whykirbo @phoenix-eclipses @faesix @ryeyeyer @starxq.zip @skylarkalchemist @kunimix @sereniteav @kodzubaby @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @r0seandth0rns @gysche @1lovestrawberrymilk @kitnootkat @seillarium @tamimemo @iheartpinky @myromanempiree @coldcigarette @eclipticnikki @squiishymeow @vivian-555 @cryptictheseus (form to be added to taglist! <3)

[strawberriesandhotmen]

Sound-Proof

a/n: HEY BABIES. I know Niall is not one of the main baby girls but this idea popped into my head and I just couldn’t resist. I’m imagining my blondie-boo for this particular fic, but you can envision whatever era you want, his hair color is only mentioned once. I was also really lazy with this one, sorry y’all 😭😭. Anyways, Louis is the only one of the boys I mentioned directly, but they’re all there in spirit.

pairing: fratboy!1D!Niall Horan x fem!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, hickeys, possessive behavior, reader is a baddie I fear, kinda rough Niall but not really (rough for him in my mind), piv unprotected (wrap it up!)

word count: 2.2k

You weren’t typically the jealous type.

Well, not really.

Sure, you had moments here and there, but who doesn’t? Normally you were quite skilled at controlling your emotions and intrusive thoughts in similar situations. It wasn’t like you weren’t experienced in doing so; your boyfriend was Niall Horan, after all. Every one of the One Direction boys experienced the hordes of girls descending upon them to ‘shoot their shot.’ In your mind, though, Niall endured it the most.

So naturally, when you overheard a girl call your man ‘cutie,’ you immediately went on high alert. You were all out at a club after a show, so it was to be expected that any fan who might have heard of the boys going there wouldn’t be far behind. What you wouldn’t tolerate, however, was the touching. That was crossing a line for anyone, in your opinion, not just your overprotective self. The light brush of her hand across his shoulder was enough to ignite a fire deep in your stomach, sparking the thought in your mind of handling this before it went any farther. Niall wasn’t okay with it, as he tried to make clear, but the poor man was too nice to make a firm stand for himself. Luckily, he had you.

He had you, dressed in a matching leather set that consisted of a corset top and mini skirt that displayed the curve of your ass perfectly, lace-up ankle boots with a heel that should be illegal, and your hair done in Niall’s favorite way. You looked damn fine, and you damn well knew it. If looks could kill, everyone in the room would have been fucking annihilated the moment you walked through the door. But alas, everyone, including this bitch ass h - excuse you - girl was still standing. And that is why you decided you must handle the situation without further delay.

“Hey, cutie.” The girl drawled, her voice dripping with the most sickeningly sweet tone. She walked her fingers up Niall’s arm teasingly, biting her lip as she violated his bubble of personal space fifteen different ways.

“Wouldn’t flirt with that one if I were you, love.” Louis butted in rather coldly. He was a protective one, that was for sure, and you loved him for it. The girl poorly chose to ignore his advice, moving in closer to your increasingly uncomfortable boyfriend (if that was even possible at this point). It was at this moment that you stopped directly behind her, a patronizing smile gracing your features as you waited for the perfect time to announce your presence. You noticed Harry bite his cheek to hold in a laugh; this was the funniest thing in the world to him. You tapped the girl’s shoulder and made sure your expression was offensive enough before speaking.

“You lost, sweetheart?” You sounded almost mocking, tilting your head as if you actually cared for her answer. Your expression, however, made it clear that you did not. You could nearly hear her heart skip a beat as her breath hitched at the interruption, her body hesitantly turning to face you. The sense of reservation dropped immediately when her eyes fell on you; clearly she thought you were just a poor excuse for ‘competition.’

“Can I help you?” She scoffed, sending you the dirtiest look you had received in a while (and not the good kind). You took a slow step closer, looking her over judgmentally before responding.

“Now that you mention it, I suggest leaving my boyfriend alone.” Your tone was polite enough, but the undertones held complete bitch-energy. Before she could respond, you leaned in so your lips were right next to her ear, the tingle of your breath sending a shiver down her spine.

“Before I wipe the fucking floor with your plastic face.” She seemed shocked at your words, probably not expecting such a vivid threat, if she had been expecting one at all. She wasn’t scared, but she was certainly annoyed. She scoffed again, stuttering a bit before stumbling off around me. Mission accomplished.

“Hello, my love.” You greeted cheerfully, turning towards Niall with a grin. He laughed that beautiful laugh of his at your sudden change in demeanor, holding his arms out for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself close to him, humming in satisfaction.

“Hey, princess. You look gorgeous, as usual.” Niall complimented softly, his grip on you tightening in the slightest. You pulled back to peer up at him through your lashes, a light giggle escaping your lips.

“Thank you, baby. You and the boys were amazing tonight.” The set they had played at this most recent show had been your favorite thus far, and naturally Niall’s voice sounded angelic (as per usual). His smile lit up his features as he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, releasing you from the hug. You turned to lean on the bar and signaled to the bartender you were ready to order your drink.

“Vodka, on the rocks, please.” You requested politely. Niall let out an amused huff through his nostrils, shaking his head knowingly.

“My girl likes her hard liquor.” You just rolled your eyes, smirking at him from your place at the bar.

“That’s not the only thing I like hard.” Hello? You had no idea where that comment had come from, but Niall didn’t seem to be complaining. His precious face immediately flushed crimson as he attempted to hide his flustered state with a well-executed smirk. You thanked the bartender for your drink and took a healthy swig, not flinching in the slightest as the alcohol slid down your throat like water. Niall stepped over to you, placing his hands beside your hips and effectively trapping you against the bar.

Hot.

“I don’t think I’m the only one feeling some type of way, princess.” He whispered lowly in your ear, his accent like music lilting through the air. You took another sip, setting your drink off to the side without breaking eye contact.

“Well, what are you gonna do about it?” You challenged, giving him a teasing once-over for his benefit. He returned the look, taking a step back in order to get a better view of you.

“Come with me, love.” He held his arm out for you to take as if he wasn’t implying the most ungentlemanly things. Irony is a beautiful thing. 

He quickly ushered you out of the club and led you towards his limo, practically shoving you in the backseat. The driver was there, of course, so after Niall told him to head back the apartment you blindly hit the button that put up the divider. Once the screen had closed, the two of you practically pounced on each other like animals. Niall immediately pulled you to straddle his lap, and your hands flew to undo the buttons on his shirt. He just sat there, admiring your frenzied state as you rushed to undress him. The moment his shirt is off, your lips latched onto his exposed collarbone and began leaving marks.

“Fuck, princess, you’re perfect.” He panted, his hands moving to grab onto your hips with intensity. His hips jutted upward into yours reflexively as his fingers trailed up the laces of your corset, fumbling anxiously to undo it. When he’d finally torn the garment off of you, his crystal blue eyes dropped to your exposed chest and his hands followed his gaze. You hum and let your head fall to the side as he cups your breasts, his thumbs brushing over each peaked nipple with a tenderness so starkly contrasting to his previous ferocity. Your fingers lace into his spiky blonde hair as his lips move to your breast, teasingly sucking a nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Earning a soft moan of satisfaction from your swollen lips, Niall moves to the other side, the subtle smirk on his face showing he is pleased with his abilities. You knew damn well how good he was at this, and so did he. 

When you simply couldn’t wait any longer, you brought his face up to yours and crashed your lips into his. Niall received your intended message loud and clear, roughly tugging your tight skirt above your hips, immediately pressing his calloused thumb against your clothed (and throbbing) clit. He smiled proudly at the moan that earned him from you, teasing your puffy folds as he waited for you to further the process. Your trembling hands dropped to his pants, fumbling momentarily to unbutton them and tug the annoying fabric below his knees, taking his boxers with it. 

You actually whined at the sight of his angry cock smacking against his toned stomach, not even realizing how he was already lifting your hips to rip your panties off of you. They were useless to you now, anyways. You had soaked them through ten minutes ago.

“Shit, you’re already dripping.” He whispered, his voice filled with wonder and surprise. You would have laughed at how comical that was if your mind wasn’t consumed with the feeling of his leaking tip dragging through your cunt.

“Ni…” You whimpered pathetically, holding tightly onto his shoulders as he shifted your hips to the perfect position.

“You gonna be good f’me, princess? Gonna let me make you feel good?” He was panting himself, his pretty pale skin flushed darkly at the arousal flooding his body. You had barely choked the ‘yes’ out before he bottomed out inside of you, his tip nearly kissing your cervix at the first thrust. You couldn’t even moan then, the wind absolutely knocked out of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” The curses flew out of your swollen lips, muttered under your breath as if you gave a shit who could hear. Niall’s movements began slow and languid, drawing long moans from you as the pulsating veins on his cock massaged your slick walls. You were almost squeezing the life out of him, and he’d barely even started.

“Already squeezin’ me so tight, princess, fu-” He breathed lowly, guiding you along his length by his grip of your hips. You were sure there would be bruises later, but you couldn’t care less. In fact, you welcomed the little reminders of when he had touched you.

“Faster, Ni, please.” You rarely ever begged for him, but when you did, he knew you fucking meant it. With only a deep, husky groan in response, he began to rut his hips up into you roughly, quickly stealing back the inhale of air you had just regained. 

Sex with Niall was like nothing else in the world; it was fucking perfect, every damn part. The way he knew exactly what spots to tease to get you soaked, the way his cock stretched your tight little pussy deliciously every time, the way his thumb drew rough circles around your clit when he knew you were close…

It was Heaven.

“Won’t last much longer if your cute little pussy keeps squeezing me like that, love. Shit, shit, shit…” He cursed, his thrusts becoming erratic as that knot in his stomach began to grow noticeable. His mumbled praises only pushed you closer to the edge, not even noticing the burning in your thighs from bouncing on his lap so forcefully.

“So close, Ni, m’gonna come.” He loved that fucking nickname you used for him, even with how simple it was. His grip on your hips tightened in response, his thrusts coming faster still (if that was even possible). Right before you teetered over the edge, he brought his hand between the two of you to roughly toy with your poor, sensitive clit the way he knew you loved. The way you moaned his name as your orgasm tore through you sent him tumbling over the edge, both of you arching into each other as the world seemed to stand still. 

Time had stopped, you were sure, your vision turning to white and your ears effectively ringing from the intensity of it all. Niall tugged you close to his as you collapsed against him, panting, a thin sheen of sweat coating you both.

“So good f’me, princess.” He hummed affectionately, pressing gentle kisses to your temple and forehead. When you had regained your senses (the gentle rub of his hands across your bare back playing no small part), you sat up slightly to smile up at him.

“Please tip your poor driver very well.” You had completely forgotten about that man in the heat of the moment, now feeling very sorry he had to experience that. Niall let out a melodic laugh, letting his head rest against the now-ruined leather seat behind him.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. The divider is sound-proof.”

[waffle-spam]

Jealous Xiao Headcanons

Scenario: How would Xiao react to seeing you interacting with someone else?

Contents: Fluff, Reader's gender isn't specified

The Wangshu Inn cooking event (cough cough the Lyney cutscenes) had me thinking

Anyway this is my first post after lurking for a bit. Idk if I'll write more. We'll see

Would observe undetected from a distance.

Listens in on your conversation if you mention his name. Briefly considers materializing in front of you with a "You called?" if you do, just to catch the other person off guard and maybe scare them off, but as an adeptus he has more restraint than to fall to such human and petty whims. So he continues watching over you two, eyes narrowed.

Once he's seen enough, he'd do something to distract himself remind himself of his duties and go patrol in another part of Liyue for any demons to vanquish.

It's because he noticed that he started experiencing these strange emotions. He felt... Threatened? Uneasy? From seeing a mortal talking to you? Impossible. Rather than entertaining the thought any longer, he retreats to focus on his contract of protecting Liyue from monsters. To focus on something he knows.

If you're already talking to Xiao and you're approached by the person he'd change where he's standing relative to you and the other person as if he were flanking you in battle, as if he were protecting your blind spot.

Similarly, his gaze would shift to the other person, glancing at their hands, pockets, etc. or even anticipating any sudden moves.

(If you were an adventurer or fighter of some sort:) After a bit he'd take you by the hand, muttering something about "sensing a demonic presence elsewhere" and that "it would be faster if he had your assistance".

(Mind you this would be the first time he indirectly asked for you to help him with something rather than you insisting and eventually him giving in. Normally he'd abhor the idea of handing off or even sharing his responsibilities or burdens with another person, especially a mortal...)

(But something told him he needed to get you away from the other person, despite the fact that they weren't exhibiting even the slightest hint of a threat.)

If you picked up on any of Xiao's strange behaviors and pointed them out (read: poked fun at him for it) he'd just scoff and look away, denying everything.

"Hmph. 'Jealousy' is a mortal emotion. One I do not have. You have no respect for the adepti."

[icycoldninja]

Hey there! It's me again, the Lies of P obssessed junkie who is also obssessed with DMC. I have risen from my grave the moment I heard that the Lies of P DLC is coming out somewhere in 2025. I hope you are doing alright and that your requests are open. If it is not, feel free to ignore it, your health comes first!

Anyways, since all of my Lies of P requests had a ton of angst, I felt like requesting something more comforting. I totally won't request the bed ending aftermath of Lies of P, I totally won't ;)

Anyways. I was hoping to request a platonic fluff headcannon of the DMC boys and our good puppet boy Pinocchio. I want to see how the boys will act once we become more human. My most funny thought is Vergil and Dante fighting over if we are Dante's kid or Vergil's little brother.

"The kid is my child Vergil."

"No, he is not, the adoption papers weren't signed."

"Cause you dragged the kid out before he could even pick up the pen, and then cut the papers into a million peices."

"...." "They are still not signed."

I also think Vergil and Dante will fight over what we will first eat once we start tasting things, and Nero is like "Guys, just let him eat what he wants."

Dante and we would likely hunt demons as he speaks about the most random of things, and we just kinda listen and sometimes speak up, but our trusty talking lantern Gemini doing the most of talking for us.

Vergil and us either practicing sword fighting, like. "I want you to be able to be able to protect yourself."

"Vergil.... I fought monsters 6 times my size and strength and won..."

"You still do not know the specifics of sword fighting"

"I killed a guy who became a god."

"And I am here to teach you MY way of fighting, so watch."

Nero being the only normal one who leads around the city and just talking, or maybe introducing us to Kyrie, like. "You see this little fella? Yes he was created in the 19th century and is older then both of us combined, but he is friend, and he is usually stays silent and just stares. Just don't get freaked out."

And V, of sweet V who we practically look the same. I am betting some strangers would actually think V and we were related. We would usually stay with V reading some old books or playing the piano for him.

Bonus points if Trish and Lady tried to get us some modern clothes only for Vergil to drag us right out of the shopping mall cause the clothes we have remind him too much of his father.

I hope this isn't much trouble, I hope you are feeling well and that both of the sides of your pillow are cool. Thank you again! 💙

Aw thank you so much for your well wishes. Hope you enjoy!

Sparda boys + V x Pinocchio-like!Reader platonic headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante is absolutely thrilled to see you're acting more like a human and less like how you formerly were—soulless and boring.

-He takes you to his favorite pizza place and gets you a massive pizza with everything on it (yes, even olives) just so you can try it and decide on your favorite toppings.

-Of course, he tries to sway you away from the olives and more towards pepperoni, and whether you follow him or not is up to you.

-He'll teach you to ride his motorcycle, and for the first time ever, you understand why he's so happy when he's zipping through the streets, whooping his lungs out.

-You two bond more and more now that you're capable of experiencing emotions and actually having fun. You have also grown very interested in ranking Vergil and take a more active role n orchestrating these little schemes.

-Dante encourages you to find a hobby (other than being a little gremlin with him) that you are passionate about, assuring you he'll support you all the way, no matter what you choose.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil is just so proud of you for how far you've come. He's more than proud, actually, the sight of you makes him start to get misty eyed with sentimentality.

-He is about ready to formally adopt you, papers, certificate and all, if he didn't have competition in the form of his stupid brother.

-Basically, everyone wants to spend time with you and (un)officially make you their kid, because they love you, but because everyone wants to be around you, some (specifically Vergil) get jealous of others.

-Don't worry, a little 1-on-1 time should calm him down, but at the same time, it runs the risk of making him even more jealous the next time someone steals you away.

-Now that you are more human, Vergil decided you should dress like one. He immediately starts dressing you like a distinguished fellow such as himself, completely unaware that the way he dresses is not the human norm. (but it should be)

-He can't help you understand your newfound emotions though, mostly because he can hardly understand his.

□ Nero □

-Nero is so happy to have a new buddy who actually understands the memes he sends them.

-He floods your phone with goofy videos and pictures of things he thinks are hilarious. He used to do it before, but you didn't understand it then. Now you do, and you're addicted.

-Is about to turn you into a regular comedian, if Dante and Vergil weren't always butting in on your quality time.

-Every night is Sparda family dinner-movie night. It's loud and crazy and popcorn is everywhere, but it's fun.

-Nero will direct you to the nearest hiding place once Dante and Vergil inevitably start fighting, before charging into the fray himself.

-Sometimes it seems he's forgotten about you, but he will return when the fight's over (or after it's been taken outside) and rescue you before dragging you somewhere far, far way from the scene of the crime.

● V ●

-V has always adored you; now, even more so. You already looked so much like him, now you were human too!

-This means that you have unlocked an understanding of emotions, so V can stun you with William Blake's poetry—and a few pieces of his own.

-He might even try to get you to create something yourself, but there's no telling how that will turn out.

-People sometimes mistake you for brothers, others for father and son, and some ask if you're twins. It cracks both of you up every time.

-Nevertheless, V loves how you two are basically family. Your appearance only cements that.

-He is probably the only Sparda (or half Sparda) who doesn't get jealous when others want to spend time with you. V's just so sweet.

[ashascoven]

❃☆ showering w/ the pyromaniac rat man ☆❃ pt. 1

☆ so hi!! um!! welcome to my first fanfic lolz (im nervous about posting this can you tell ?!?! o(*°▽°*)o)

☆ im rlly new to posting on tumblr, but ive been reading fanfics on here for a WHILE!! it's inspired me to write a silly one about my favorite lanky robber <3 if theres any mistakes, PLEASE hit my line abt it (i beg)

☆ here is part 2, which is smut/nsfw, also on my profile!

☆ FANFIC DEETS! junkratxreader ☆

reader is a female who's known for working with plants

VERY lengthy build-up fanfic (LOTS of reading, buckle up yall)

fluff??

emotional stuff, but nothing intense (??)

first time writing an australian accent, pls lmk if anythings weird!!

hope u enjoy :,D

“Hggshmmshh.. peeaachh c-c.. cobbler.. mmh.. eeheeheeheh!! Piee..”

“Dammit! Move over, rat-ass!” 

You felt as if you had finally managed to doze off only a couple minutes ago. 

One second you're about to drift away into a somewhat decent sleep, counting flying sheep and letting your drool start to fall.

The next, you're getting whacked in the head with a metallic hand or shoved by a wooden peg in one of your sides.

Having to share a bed with a loudly snoring pyro-freak who reeked of gunpowder and body odor was not a promising night of rest, especially in a room of pure humidity and sweat. 

The mattress beneath you two was unbalanced and squeaky, the walls surrounding it adorning overgrowing vines and tears in its paper.

His twisting, turning, n’ noises didn't make it any better, but it was kind of reassuring in the sense that you weren't sleeping alone.

When was the last time he even showered anyway? 

Does this man know how to?

How does he sleep like this?

The more you questioned the Australian in your head, the more his body managed to keep sprawling across the queen sized mattress you two shared. 

Both his normal and prosthetic limbs jabbed at your back, his armed belt straps and gauntlets not contributing to your comfort whatsoever. 

“Fucking- MOVE!”

You gripped at the bed and gave him one kick in the ass with your bare foot. 

The maniac yelped himself into a giggling fit, somehow still remaining asleep. 

God, what's his secret to being such a happy sleeper?

With one last scoff, you nearly pushed him off of the bed, but you didn't think twice about it.

Rolling your eyes, you returned to your previous position with your back facing him, crossing your arms and trying to let your eyes close again.

You thought about the mission you two were given together, recalling it hundreds of times in your head to hopefully quench at your inability to have a comfortable sleep.

Back at one of those Overwatch HQ meetings, they discussed wanting to try something new while still maintaining everyone's duties. 

Experimenting with how different heroes and scientists worked one-on-one with one another for “observational purposes,” they said.

Gibberish about increasing the rate of productivity within our cause by cutting down our dispatched team sizes.. 

“More groups of heroes can get sent out on more missions if distributed differently..!”

Blah-blah-blah..

You ignored all of the blabbering at the time, your ears only ever being open for what sounded most important and intriguing.

“It'll be an educational experience for great future references-” 

You reaaaallyy didn't think you'd be in one of the duo dispatches, yet here you were, somehow still in the flesh.

All that was asked of you both was to keep a watch out for anything suspicious at some abandoned town in the middle of who-even-fucking-knows.

Wooden huts n’ houses that were falling apart, yet they somehow still formed and held a small community of humble elders.

Supposedly, this place was a possible target of some well-feared terrorist group, and “Grandpa Jack” wanted you two to scout.

Discussion about exposed plans for making sure as many innocent people as possible experienced war “too” made your blood boil. 

It didn't make sense to you, the whole “no pain, no gain” mindset.

Clearly these people chose to live all the way out here to get AWAY from the danger, why force that on some old people anyway?

With their lack of clean drinking water and functioning power in an empty desert, you were sure they've already seen enough.

“Haven't we lost thousands of innocent civilians already? Omnic or not, they can't just keep coming up with all of this frivolous shit and throw it at us..!”

You grumbled to yourself outloud, unconsciously turning to face the ultimate rat that was laying behind you.

“Why would they send us here if they KNEW there were people out here who needed help? Wasting precious time by sending two of us out here instead of a whole team is beyond me, honestly! We'll just keep getting killed and..” 

Your eyes ended up catching onto your distorted reflection on the goggles that Jamison wore to bed.

It made you trail off and unball your fists, causing you to think about the old people again.

You thought about how much you were gonna get onto HQ's ass to seek a better home for them all.

They were sweet to you and Jamie, and you were pretty sure he would try to take one or two to keep as parents of his own.

Considering he didn't have any living ones anymore, it would check out.

Your eyes wandered off onto the flickering of the dying light bulb hanging bare off the ceiling.

The bulb hung right behind mister sleeping beauty, holding on by torn wires.

You were surprised your sleeping partner hadn't managed to somehow pull it down in his sleep yet. The thought made you smile for a bit, letting your face rest.

Then, your hand reached up to Jamison's face. 

You didn't think much about it since your mind was more on other things still, but you unconsciously held his cheek.

You watched as he smiled in his sleep, gently putting his own hands on yours and nuzzling into your touch. 

The feeling of his rough palm against your skin along with the metal of his other one sent a chill through your body, but you didn't pull away.

Just looking at him resting like a baby put your mind at ease for a bit.. It helped calm your grumpiness from not being able to sleep these past few nights.

It’s been the longest mission yet, and also the first one that you’ve slept together with a person you were sent with.

You ran your thumb over his lightly chapped bottom lip, your mind finally winding itself down.

You two had somewhat of a record of being assigned missions together, but you were never as close to each other as this. 

Something about the way your silly acquaintance slept carelessly in front of you was strangely inviting.

You swallowed your emotions and repressed your urges to suddenly hug the rat man, drawing your thumb lower to his chin. 

You ran it over his speckled face hair, still letting him hug your arm. 

“Mmmmh.. G-gosh, so.. so waaarmm..! waarmm like a maarshmaallooww.. eheeh..!!”

He chuckled in his sleep as his hugging turned into more aggressive snuggling.

It made you wonder if he'd remember anything once he woke up.

Outside of those thoughts, you were heavily caught off guard.

You didn't know if you wanted to comfortingly rub at his hair, continue holding his face, or try to hug him entirely.

Internally? You wanted to do all of those things, but it didn't feel right yet.

Despite all the deep talks you've had with Jamie on the drives and flights to missions together, you guys were still just friends at work, right?

Would it be weird to treat a friend as such? 

Did he think you two were even friends?

You always had a tendency to overthink the simplest of things.

Questions would fog your mind the split second a minor inconvenience popped up, you struggled to help that “problem” all your life.

Yet, your time spent with him so far made it feel like your questioning wasn't a problem at all. 

You always wanted to know the specifics and the “why” or “how” in anything that interested you.

Jamison was similar. He fed into your talks about figuring out what's after death, your master-list of alternatives to milk JUST for enjoying it with cereal. your wonders about what being an omnic felt like, and even your rambles about plants having feelings.

He was so invested into the plant talk that he now avoids stepping on anything green to show you that he cared about nature's heart too.

He admired your outlook on everything, the way you approach things by being your real self.

He also liked that you didn't look down on him for having an explosive personality. 

Everyone else at HQ had something against the lanky robber, but you didn't hate him at all. You two matched each other in the way that you were both transparent and almost always had a fixation or a story to share.

His eyes practically turned into sparkles whenever you two got into your deep conspiracy talks because no one else bothered to entertain his yappering about bombs, especially with mutual ranting about something else.

It was nice, soo..

You guys had to at least be friends, right?

“Mate! Earth’s waitin’ for your grand return! Ya aren’t dead yet.. Are ya, plant woman?”

Friends.. Yeah. You thought you two were cool buddies for all it’s worth.

“Aye! I knooow, me charmin’ physique’s too much to take in aaall at ooonce but-!”

It’s crazy how you were thinking about his eyes sparkling because.. Huh, how come they’re doing it right now?

“I can’t have ya dyin’ on me yet.. Ain’t no doctors around to come and shock ya awake!”

Gosh, who knew the local bombardier had such a twinkle to his eyes anyway?

“Is yer brain workin’? Want me to.. rewire it for ya?”

Twinkle.. twinkle.. twinkle..~

“Well, she’ll be apples! Ya goootta snap outta it mate! What is it ya want this time? An autograph? Some lollies? Aye! Aye..!”

You were so zoned out into the thought of his eyes, you didn’t even register that you were now actually looking at them; he had woken up.

Your hand was still on his face too, but he wasn’t hugging it anymore. 

His robotic right hand was knocking the top of your head lightly while his skinned left one was holding your cheek. 

His facial expression was one of concern despite his messy blonde hair and some drool glistening off the side of his mouth.

With the way he clearly scooted closer to you, you two were actually really close to each other this time.

“Woaahh.. Ooh.. Oh..? OH!!” You froze up again, covering your mouth and (almost literally) getting knocked out of your trance.

“Whew!” Jamison sighed in relief.

“There's me’ plant woman! Turns out me charm was too much for ya to handle afteraaalll!” He chuckled, quickly shifting into a lounging model pose and striking you a sly grin.

“O-Oh.. Oh my gosh! H-How long was I like that?” You panicked a little, wiping sweat from your forehead and quickly rubbing it into the tail of your shirt.

“Since me eyes opened up! Let's say.. ‘bout half a’ hour?”

“H-half an hour?!?”

“Yeah! Are ya alright? Did ya think me eyes were THAT gorgeous?” He chuckled, rubbing his chin. 

“Pshh..” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms once again.

“It’s alright if ya think so! I think so too! But, ya aren’t allowed to tell me fans that! Ehehe~!” He grinned, suddenly wrapping his arms around you and jokingly snuggling his head against the top of yours.

“E-eugh!! Fans my ass! Wait until they find out that you probably don't even wash yours, you stinky!” You exclaimed, trying to push your way out of his arms but to no avail.

“S-stinky?!?! Hey-! There's a’ supa’ top secret special essence in me junker way o’ livin..! T-the cleanest ya'd ever know!! How 'bout ya take a smell~!??” He challenged, immediately shoving his arm pits in your face and keeping you in his grasp.

“GOD! Quit it!! You smell terrible-! Ugh!!! Let me go right now!”

“Nuh-uh! Hatin’ on me wondrous magnificence ain't nice!”

“Your breath's gonna kill me, you bastard! Agh!! You literally need a bath!!!” You were muffling into his arms, trying to push him away even harder. 

You managed to push yourself upwards, but you still were trapped in his grasp as he giggled n’ snuggled away. 

As much as you hated to admit it, his silliness was really comforting, charming in it's own way even.

Yeah.. he didn't smell the best, but!!.. He was kind of fun to be around. It was hardly ever boring around the rat man.

“Fine, whatever,” You sighed, no longer fighting to leave his sweaty arms.

“Your eyes are.. nice to look at. Anyway, I'm tired and somehow comfortable in this position so if you move weirdly, I'm pushing you off the bed.”

He loudly gasped, his eyes widening and sparkling so much so that you could've sworn staring directly into them would've blinded you.

“Y-ya really m-mean it?!!?!! A-about.. me eyes?!? OoooOOoohh~! I.. H-How I could jus’ kis-”

You cut him off by wrapping your arms around his head. His face was buried into your chest while his arms were still around you.

You felt him freeze, his immediate blush against your chest practically able to burn through you. He didn't scream or pull away, just sat there for a bit, shocked at someone hugging him back for once.

You sighed out again in content, now leaning your face on top of his head. His hair felt surprisingly soft against your cheek, but he still smelled bad.

“God, you smell so terrible.. but.. you're kinda.. comfy and..- Okay you're actually very comfy what the hell.” 

You gushed, your leaning turning into you practically snuggling against his hair.

The rat man stayed frozen in his position, shock taking over his body. For once, it wasn't one of those triggering shocks that turned his trauma into adrenaline; it was a.. refreshing kind of shock? The kind that was making him realize how starved from affection he really was for so long.

He felt like a deer mesmerized by headlights.

“If only you didn't move so much in your sleep, tsk tsk.. I can totally get over the strong burnt tire smell for how snuggly your hair is thoug-”

“Ihh shay..”

He suddenly muffled through your chest, but quieter than his normal tone.

“Eh?”

One of his fingers twitched.

“..Ihh shay shihh!”

“Fucking- Get out of there and spit it out!”

You pouted, pulling his face out of your chest’s cave to look him in the eyes and hear him properly.

“I-I’ll stay.. still! m-mighty still.. i-if ya keep on.. rubbin’ that pretty face on ma’ skull.. p-please? please mate!!”

‘Absolutely the fuck not!’ is what you almost instinctively said, but something about this weird man’s vulnerability around you gave you a feeling his request wasn’t ill intended. 

He nudged you into a softer tone towards him for the night, so you silently raised a brow. He kept pleading, his sparkling eyes bouncing between you and the rest of the room.

“I-I ain't had anyone.. touch me ‘air, l-let alone me whole body i-in years! Feels comfortin’- so- i- uh- p-please mate! i won't be buggin’ ya’ rest any longer i-if ya felt kind ‘nough to.. perhaps grant me thee honor-!?”

“I’m doing it, so hush up.”

“Y-yes m’lady”

He quickly blurted out, before burying his face back in-between your chest with a relieved giggle.

“Hah, for someone who goes by being a rat, you're sure acting like a puppy right now.”

“Y-ya really think so!?”

“Yeah sure, but- hmph, the ‘junk’ part still applies. I'm so close to dragging you into a bath myself..”

“>:(“

“Wait.. This kinda gives me an idea..” 

A mischievous grin growing on your face as you mumbled to yourself.

“Whaddya say?”

He grumbled, oblivious to your scheming. You slowly tried pulling away from him, but to no avail.. He unconsciously scooted closer into your arms with each pull.

“..nothing, ratty-poo.” 

You pushed him away quickly with your hands now gripping his shoulders.

“A-ay mate! W-whaddya push me away foorrr? I was enjoyin’ me time in there.. :(“

He yelped in response, his arms now crossing with a pout.

“No more snuggling until you take a bath!”

“W-whuh!?”

“I'm not cuddling your hair until you wash it.”

“..noooo :((“

“No shower, no snuggle!!”

“:(((... Fine..”

“W-wait- You're giving in that easil-?”

“JUNK ATTACK!!!!”

He yelled, diving back into your chest with his arms around your waist once again. You scoffed, not cuddling or holding him back.

“Rat-ass.”

“Y-yes m-m’lady..??”

“I'm giving you five seconds to get off of me, or I'll kick you off.-”

“N-no!! P-please mate!-”

“I'll go and grab a bucket of ice cold water to throw at you so help me you don't mov-”

You've never seen a tall grown man back up to the edge of a bed so quickly.

“GO.”

You yelled, pointing violently at the bathroom door.

“NEIN!”

“I SAID GO!”

“NO!”

“You want more cuddles from me, right, ratty-poo..?~”

Your tone softened as you twirled your hair and pleaded your eyes at him.

“I- u-uh- y-yes m-m'lady but-”

“THEN GO BATHE!”

He whined another ‘no’ in response, crossing his legs and arms while looking away.

You sighed, before crawling across the bed and hooking your arm around his.

“Lord.. What am I gonna do with you..”

“W-well I- AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!!”

“GET YOUR ASS IN THAT SHOWER JAMIE!!”

You yelled again as you held him in a headlock position.

As he whined, you held him there for a bit, thinking.

“Hmm..”

“You l-let go of me t-this instant mate! T-the junkers back in me home town w-wont be pleased with how you're behavin’ towards me greatnes-”

“What if we took a bath together?”

“-and once they find out what you've- huh-!?!”

“You and me, we bathe together. I'll literally help you clean up if it means you won't stink in bed.”

You said casually as you quickly faced him towards you and dropped him onto the bed. He landed on his back with his arms above his head while you sat on top of him.

Questionable position if you may, but you dare not complain about the view.

He was too in shock to notice it either.

He stared at you wide eyed. 

He opened his mouth and put a finger up to say something multiple times, only to close it with more thought and look away, his finger curling up and down with each pause.

He thought about the offer for the long time.

Then, he rubbed his chin. You watched carefully, not letting your guard fall in case he felt like randomly wrapping himself around you again.

“Hmph.. if t-that’s what it'll take.. then I suppose a.. mighty handsome fella like me.. wouldn't mind bathin’ with a.. pretty.. f-flower woman like you!”

“Uh huh..-”

“B-but under one of me’ own conditions!”

“.. you're what now-”

“Bath cuddles?”

He clapped his hands together in a praying motion, pleading with those damn sparkly eyes again. It's like he just does it in command at this point..

“God, what are we, a couple?”

You yawned with closed eyes. 

“I-I.. W-well! Your one an’ only gentleman of’uh bombardier wouldn't complain!”

He nervously smiled and blushed, his gold tooth shining comically as he said that.

It earned a giggle out of you, followed with covered mouth mumbling.

‘You’re so silly, it's kind of attractive..’

“Whaddya say, me’ pretty plant-y mistress?”

“I said, you're so silly, it's kind of.. u-uh- cool-? I guess??!? I don't- Mistress!?- I- W-whatever- C’mon, let's go! Into the baaathh we goo..! C’mon c’moonn..”

You spurted out, getting up and dragging him by the arm into the bathroom. 

You didn't really think through the fact that.. this man would be so close to you while you two were undressed.

Oddly enough, he didn't give the vibe of someone who'd try anything, but it was still weird. 

One second you're forced to share a bed with this guy.. And the next? You've convinced him to take a shower with you??? Weird..-o!!

When you two made it, you both kind of just stared at the bathroom and each other for a minute. 

It was a decently sized room, but the entirety of it was a shower.. literal shower room?.. whatever.

There wasn't a sink or toilet like the bathrooms you were used to. 

Instead, there was just one large shower head in the center of the room, a drain in a corner, and tiles that patterned the floor and walls in a creamy gradient. The two handles for the shower were next to the doorway, labeled for their temperatures.

There were also two slim windows higher up on two walls facing each other, slightly cracked for the steam.

The only light you guys had came from either these windows, or from the doorway to the room you shared, so it was acceptably dim.

Some vines creeped through corners here and there, but it was surprisingly much cleaner than the rest of the hut you guys stayed in. The non-direct warm lighting really set the vibe.

As you turned both of the handles halfway, you watched in surprise as the rat man happily stripped at whatever he had on, going for a dive on the shower floor as if it were a kid’s waterslide with a ‘yippee!!’

It immediately followed with a groan of pain from him, and a reactive facepalm from you.

With a sigh of ‘Oh, what I'll even do with him..’ (ironic), you quickly undid your hair and stripped off your clothes while he wasn't looking.

He swiveled around right as you finished, watching in awe as you awkwardly shuffled onto the floor next to him with a travel sized bottle of soap and a mini loofa.

“S-ssheesh..” he gaped, “what a beautiful woman..”

“T-thanks, b-but don't look too hard, silly guy.” You joked lightheartedly and rolled your eyes, your initiative agenda from before going out of the window because of the attractive man in front of you.

The hot steamy water combined with how it washed away some of the rat man’s dirt made his revealed skin slightly harder to not drool over..

..but you fought any urges or sudden fantasies you had right then and there. 

‘It’s just the lack of sleep getting to me,’ you quickly scolded yourself in your head, ‘.. there's no way I shoul- COULD see him like that, yep..’

“You're.. not too shabby yourself..” You muttered to get it out of your system, painfully controlling your hands from wandering. Thankfully, he probablyyy didn't hear you. 

With that, you were getting to work with your soap on his arms, trying not to think too hard about the man before you.

“Caaan I have me cuddlin’ time with ya noooww, plant womaaan?”

“Noo! I just started with you and I'm not done yet, rat-head.. Be patient n’ be quiet.” You grumbled, finishing his arms and scrubbing his back like a concerned mother.

“Pleeeaaaaseeee…????” He covered his eyes and whined as you made way to his torso with your loofah. The scrubber was barely holding on and you weren't anywhere near finished..

“Don't make me tie you down in here just to get you clean, bastard..” You threatened, moving from his back to his front side. You held at one side of his torso, scrubbing away.

He moved his hands from his face to his sides, looking down at you with that puzzled gaze once again. You glanced up at him with a raised brow before looking back down at your work.

You weren't actually all too irritated. Tired, yes, but it was actually kind of destressing being able to work your hands at something like this. 

You were also literally.. bathing a grown ass man, but you'd be lying if you said anything about preferring to be at home, bored and alone.

At least this mission gave you some kind of purpose, and alongside an entertaining goofball as well. It could be much worse, but it really wasn't bad at all which you liked.

Suddenly, he started patting your head, a close eyed grin on his face.

“Oouuhh… M-mate, ya know.. Thanks a lot for this! I appreciate ya’, I really do!”

“Don't sweat it, poo-face, you were already sweating enough in bed anyway..” You chuckled with another playful eye roll.

“If you weren't gonna bathe yourself, something had to be done for BOTH OF us to catch some rest for the mission, and goddess KNOWS I can't sleep with a loud stinky man..” You responded mindlessly, gently grabbing his face by his jaw and scrubbing his neck.

“It gets.. hard sometimes,” he threw his head back with a sigh, “I know I'm supposed ‘tuh.. do it all me’ self but, I lose me’ mind to the world o’ bombs!” He chuckled.

“You don't say…” You coughed with sarcasm, still listening and cleaning. He's used to your personality by now, and he knows you never really mean any harm.

“Oh, but I do! Even with me’ prosthetics, it jus’ makes it harder n’.. I could never fancy the time to.. uh.. keep takin’ em’ on n’ off..”

“..It bugs me, the pain, it's a reeaall.. buggin' feeling, both in me’ arms n’ legs.. n’.. the mind. It does somethin’ to ya, makes people call ya crazy!” He gestured by wiggling his normal arm, then his robotic one in comparison. 

You put his arms down like an annoyed cat, but you weren't actually annoyed, just trying to reach over him to attempt washing his hair.

“..but really ‘m not.. I.. I just resort to.. expressin’ what takes it all away.. and uh! bein’ me!, ya’ kno- Aauh.. T-that feels.. holy..” He cut himself off, sighing in relief. You had bowed his head under the running water for you to better reach him, unknowingly giving him a more direct view of your bare chest. 

“A-Anything to take me’ mind off the.. A-ahem-.. the uh.. rot.. the distinct feelin’ of not bein’ the same as everyone else.. anymore.” He cleared his throat, awkwardly trying not to stare as he spoke, but you didn't think much about it.

“People stay clear of me all the time! N’ they think I don't be noticin’ b-but I do!” He ran a hand through his hair after you moved down to his legs.

“It hurts, but.. I just keep doin’ me’, I try not to stay in me’ past, live for me’ mum, n’ keep it movin’!”

“Oh! That's also why I like ya’ mate!” He smiled, throwing up finger guns.

“Whuh- Really?” You looked at him.

“Yeah! You don't treat me funny for me’ quirks! You always seemed like.. a couple screws loose in somebody’s noggin never bothered ya’! Me’ motors don't drive ya’ wild, do I?” 

“Pshhh… You definitely drive me crazy, but that doesn't mean I'm never down for a wild adventure with you, rat-ass.”

“See? Ya’ get me! I know your tired n’ all, n’ I'm sorry for takin’ away from your beauty rest like this but..” He scratched his chin and sighed, looking to the side.

“Thanks mate, r-really..” He mumbled, shuffling closer and wrapping his arms around you for a genuine hug.

“I- U-uh-.. Your.. welcome? All I've done was treat you like.. a normal human being? As you.. should be?” You awkwardly hugged him back, confused.

You pulled away, your hands on his shoulders.

“Despite our friendship, I don't know what it is you've REALLY really been through, but no matter how tired or over it I may seem, I still think you're hella cool of a guy.” You warmed up to his hug, patting his back.

“Whenever you wanna chat about.. literally anything in the world, you know who to come to, silly.. Seriously, don't ever sweat it.” You smiled and yawned, going back to washing his upper body off for a second, more gentler time. 

You were surprised he didn't question the hot water in hot weather or how quickly it managed to cool you guys off. It was definitely making you more sleepy though.

“T-thanks, plant woman..” He wiped away a tear, sighing with a contentful “aah” as you tended to him. He leaned back, taking in the feeling of your care.

“Ya know, you're reeaaal good at this.. are ya’, perhaps, experienced ‘n bathing other people?” 

“Wh- This is.. how baths are meant to be taken, no?”

“T-together??!? Mate, I’d kill to have this luxury of bein’ cleaned by ya’ like this all the time!!”

“Whuh- No! I m-meant.. the soap and water, you fucking peanut.”

“Ooh.. W-well!” he pointed a finger up, “I don't care ‘bout standin’ under some lousy water for a’ hour! But.. ya’ make me want to if it means you'll be the one cleanin’ me!”

“You're an adult, Jamie.”

“Don't forget me’ prosthetics-”

“They're literally waterproof sealed..”

“How would ya’ even know that!?”

“You told me this in our past rant sessions, twice I might add.. Something about avoiding radiactiv-”

“Screw you, mate! ( ` ﾛ ´ )”

“..You probably would though. (>ᴗ•)”

☆ if anyone actually makes it this far, tysm for reading!! feedback is 100% welcomed and appreciated <33

☆ i promise ill get the smut out for this eventually.. ill also make a pinned request post soon!! with graduation coming up, im a bit busy :((.. BUT ITLL ALL COME!

☆ ^^ update, here it is!!

☆ enjoy ur day/night yall! eat, stay hydrated, and keep loving junkrat fr ♡( ◡‿◡ )

[an-angelstears]

this is real, not acting ...

fate . you and your co-star, satoru gojo, start to feel something real ... and NOT for a movie !

the demon (warnings/contents) . [ part 1 , sfw ]

the angel (pairings) . satoru gojo x gn!reader

you were a famous actress/actor, mainly starring in horror or action movies. you gained a lot of fame after one particular action movie with a hint of horror where you had to fight aliens and such.

you were known as the attractive actress/actor that played one of the main characters in the show; and especially for how badass the character was portrayed. this obviously opened a bunch of doors of opportunities, and your manager suggested that you try other movie genres—like drama or ‘rom com’s.

you of course accepted, seeking to climb up the metaphorical stairs of the entertainment industry. even though you were much more experienced with action movies—maybe trying a bit of lovey dovey and stepping out of your comfort zone is a necessary step to make your name boom! on social media.

so, you auditioned for romance-type movies. at first, all the recruiters were confused. what was an action star doing in a romance audition? but after a few auditions, you finally got accepted into a rom-com titled ‘Changed Me’, with you being the main character’s love interest.

the story was simple; the main character was a normal highschool kid who was burnt out from school and from lack of money. after meeting a bubbly person who was rich, said person fell in love with him and the main character intended to use them for money at first, but then also fell in love over time.

the story was simple, yeah. but it was going to get carried by satoru gojo anyway. oh, and speaking of satoru gojo..

when you checked who the main character was, it was the legendary, mighty, strong, famous, steal-your-girl-and-man actor, satoru gojo. this is insane. how are you going to film your first rom-com with a professional romance actor with years of experience? well, just try your best, i guess..

it was time to film the first scene of the movie, which was satoru gojo’s character introduction. but you still wanted to watch him work since you were a complete beginner in these types of movies. all that you know is that it’s just like acting in action movies but you gotta hold back cracking a smile when you get too flustered.

seems simple enough..

you watch satoru gojo intently, watching how he keeps the ‘slice of life’ vibes in every scene with his humor, dialogue, and of course, looks. he looked calm and happy while being quiet, since he will be narrating the dialogue later anyway.

after he filmed his scenes, you then go on to observe him narrating his lines. his cocky, but still manly voice fits his character so well.

“so, yeah, this is my morning routine.. just wake up, go to school, do homework, and go to bed.. add in a bit of eating, drinking..” he mutters against the microphone, adding in a little defeated sigh to show that the main character is not satisfied with his current life.

damn, you thought. that was hella easy. it wasn’t your first time being introduced to scenes where they feel a little comedic—but it actually holds a deeper meaning. like in this one, satoru’s character is trying to play it off with a little bit of a joyful tone, but the dialogue itself plus the defeated sigh shows that he’s clearly not well.

then, the scene just switches to some comedic thing where the main character falls off of his bed trying to get up for school, with satoru muttering a little “augh.. that hurt..”

..maybe you were overanalyzing this?

maybe it was just a comedy scene, and not like those deep, emotional scenes hidden behind a comedic feeling—like what was usually present in your past movies.

right, past movies. plan a; forget about them.

well, not straight up forget about them and everything you’ve learned. forget about the usual formula, since this obviously isn’t accurate with this movie you were gonna act in.

from what you remember, there’s rarely any slice of life things with action movies unless it’s a jackie-chan (not sponsored) movie—with comedy, of course, and other comedy related action movies.

so, when a couple of days passed by, and it was your character’s first introduction in the movie, you knew you were fucked.

“okay, and.. action!”

your heart raced. the scene was very simple; you were just going to bump into the main character and introduce yourself. haha, easy, right?

but not when you keep accidentally staring at satoru gojo for too long, making the scene too awkward and you both having to restart it.

“why did you even bring a romance rookie over?” you hear satoru gojo whispering to the recruiter, making your heart drop. your first impression for this very experienced actor now just got buried in the ground.

“alright, mr. gojo, y/n, come on.” the director calls, ready to restart the scene.

after hearing that whisper, you really wanted to impress him for some reason. so when the scene played, you pretended to look at something in the distance—mimicking someone who is zoning out.

« just make sure to not actually fall when you feel satoru gojo bump into you. » you thought to yourself.

so when you feel a rather muscular build colliding with you, you pretend to fall, your books (props) falling on the ground. you look up to see satoru gojo, making sure not to stare too long.

“hey! watch where you’re going!” you scoff, picking up your books.

meanwhile, satoru seemed impressed. you were just stuttering over your lines a minute ago. “sorry,” he muttered, crouching to help you pick up your books.

bite back your smile.

it seemed impossible. how could you even get charmed just by this? he’s just acting! this isn’t real..

“cut!”

[doctorcurdlejr]

Niko!! what'd you think of I saw the tv glow. I finally saw it last night and noticed you posting about it so I wanted to know your thoughts :)

Levi!!! I was JUST wondering what you were thinking about the movie after I saw you posting about it as well... we are so media discussion pilled in this way, it's awesome. ANYWAYS I've had so many thoughts since I first saw it and I've been trying to turn them into something coherent for a little bit now.

Ummm okay I have written 1k+ words about this movie, the suburbs, and escapism via teen TV.... clearly I was dying for somebody to ask this I guess so thank you for indulging me <3

First and foremost, I absolutely loved it! I've seen it twice now and the first time I watched it I got to see Jane Schoenbrun talk about the film right after. I already really liked it from that first watch alone. I found it so deeply relatable to my experiences - both in terms of growing up gay and trans, but where I am now in my 20s trying to navigate adulthood. Hearing what Schoenbrun had to say really cemented my feelings and thoughts about the film.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer was a big influence on the movie (it's why Amber Benson makes a cameo as Johnny Link's mom). Even though I don't have the same emotional link to Buffy since I never watched it, I recognize it as the same type of warmth I experienced growing up with Riverdale. When Owen says he feels like his insides have been scooped out but that he's too afraid to look and have that wrongness everybody knows is there be confirmed, Maddy simply responds "Maybe you're like Isabel. Afraid of what's inside you." Tears forming but not falling, breathing shallowly, I grabbed the paper and pen the theater keeps at the seats for people to order food with and wrote that line down - the slip of paper is still somewhere in my car. Writing it now almost feels lame in its simplicity, but it felt like my insides were being flayed open.

During the director discussion, Schoenbrun talked a little bit about this idea of how truly fucking bizarre it is to grow up in the suburbs. Like, when we think about the pinnacle of normality in American culture, it's the image of middle-class cis-hetero-white suburbia. At the same time, despite this cultural dream of normality, everybody is hyper-aware that the suburbs are one of the least normal things ever. So, the ACTUAL cultural understanding of it is that it's where we go to, like, passively kill ourselves (*George Costanza voice* WE LIVE IN A SOCIETY YOU KNOW!). This idea isn't new, I mean there are so many films and shows about navigating that specific bizarre dissonance from Rebel Without a Cause to Heathers to Twin Peaks. Probably half the pre-teen to teen TV I watched obsessively growing up, stuff like Strange Days at Blake Holsey High, Making Fiends, Truth or Scare, and eventually Riverdale, were never shy about being weird and morbid and saying "yes, the suburbs are exactly as bizarre and lethal in the ways you can already feel in your bones at 13." I Saw the TV Glow does a really good job of keying not only into that mental dissonance but more specifically into how those of us who have felt so intrinsically weird and different and wrong fell back on these shows like they were capable of doing the emotional version of a rescue breath maneuver after being drowned.

In high school, if there were two things about me that any person who even vaguely knew me could list off it was that I watched Riverdale, and I was a lesbian - and I was mocked more for the Riverdale. At that age, I was, without a doubt, the most miserable I have ever felt in my life. I rarely left the house because my family lived in a development that made me want to scratch my skin off when I walked out our front door. Owen didn't leave the house for days, afraid Maddy could somehow force him out. I sobbed constantly and frequently to depressing indie rock on the floor of my closet while hoping my family would just once read the (honest to god) KEEP OUT poster plastered on my door since I didn't have a lock on it. Owen didn't leave his room for days, afraid of what Maddy recognized in him. I didn't go on dates and kept my chest binder shoved to the bottom of my bookbag while wearing dresses that could've come from a how-to-be the perfect 50s housewife manual. Owen didn't leave his bed for days, afraid of Maddy touching his neck and Isabel's dress. I also watched Riverdale with the kind of zeal you see in a Pentecostal who has found God and started speaking in tongues to let you know it. I own a button that says, "Don't Make Me Go Dark Betty On You," I cherish it in a way that is only achieved by knowing exactly how corny and trite it is and then moving straight past that because well actually, and most people wouldn't get this, she's holding back something deeply dark and wild and- and disgusting. something painful yet intrinsically her. but i get it, obviously. or maybe not obviously! hopefully not obviously, but- basically, I'm just saying I get it: the experience of reflection and recognition through the other and all that.

Whatever, the point is that this movie is one big glaring trans allegory about how it sucks dog shit to live in the suburbs, and even at our most repressed we find these little snow globes of actualization in the glow of a tv screen that isn't afraid to show you the world you see. I've seen some people say that, like, in this context accepting or coming into your transness is this monumental death of self, which I get, but I feel there lacks a nuance in that because either way Owen is dying. Unlike Maddy who buries herself alive only to come out renewed, Owen doesn't kill himself upon facing the reality that the world is constructed to keep him miserable and the only way out is to take back what it is that the world wants to keep scooped out of him. Instead he just passively lets it drag him to a much more permanent death. This lack of suicide sucks in the kind of way that forces you to sit in your car on the midnight drive home and think to yourself am I letting myself suffocate because at some point knowing the misery became less scary than admitting I've been capable of doing something about it the whole time?

Clearly, I’ve been enchanted by the film’s narrative and meta-textual language. If you're familiar with it, you can see how Schoenbrun built this movie like a long-form dream episode of a canceled teen show filmed in Vancouver. Lynchian? Yeah, sure. Riverdalesque? THIS we cannot possibly deny. Schoenbrun said they included Amber Benson as an act of healing the inner rage experienced at Tara’s death in Buffy. This is a Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa ending Riverdale with a bisexual polycule after his gay Archie play got ceased-and-desisted type move. There’s probably more I could say about the soundtrack and the visuals, but I’ve hit over 1k words on this, so I’ll leave it at I enjoyed this movie a lot. :)

Maddy is an out lesbian who left town to escape the misery and found it strapped to her ankles. She slinks out, an animal pressed against the gymnasium floor, and says "I'm not telling you anything you don't already know." Owen looks into the camera and narrates. He cuts himself open with a box cutter, fully acknowledges what's there, and the movie ends with his suffocating apology parade for the unremarkable inconvenience of his excruciating suffering. You can be gay and trans, you can know it and you can stop repressing it, but you're not going to stop suffocating until you can find a way to destroy the part of you that truly deeply does want to die, reaching for the comforting euthanasia of normalcy. Stop visiting the dream of the life you want and make it into your reality with the same kind of unrepentant conviction seen in some underfunded but wildly ambitious teen television series. In other words: you must try to survive the ego death of being weird. A weirdo, who doesn't fit in and doesn't want to fit in!