#I'd be exactly the same :sob:

[crheativity]

THIS IS SO CUTE AHFJILDEHLESWHJLGEW

🌊𓈒𓏸Something New𓏸𓈒🌊

SUMMARY: You and Kinich are officially a couple, and despite the awkwardness of the whole thing (since you're both new at relationships), you wanted to get him something to show your appreciation.

NOTES: gn!reader x aroace Kinich, demiromantic/asexual, though neither is actually mentioned. Reader is implied to be a Natlan native. It's assumed you've done the AQ and his SQ, but should be fine to read without doing either

WARNINGS: None, really, just fluff

COMMENTS: I finished Kinich's quest, and fell deeper in love with him than I already was. So I wanted to write a fic in celebration of his release and quest! Though I must say, this is not the fic I intended to write. My brain wanted something else I guess.

Ever since you and Kinich started dating, things between you seemed awkward. It's not like you knew how to be romantic. And clearly, he was the same. You'd still hang out, and talk, and go places, but when it came to anything romantic, you both were hopelessly lost. Not for a lack of trying.

Ajaw would laugh at your every attempt at something romantic, as you failed spectacularly. Though if something got too corny or actually romantic, Ajaw would always become frustrated and leave. It was clear he just wanted to watch you struggle. He hated the lovey-dovey stuff.

You decided to ask your friends and research the subject, in hopes to become better. Your research led to a lot of fiction, which didn't seem like a good source of information to you. Your friends were able to give you some pointers, but they were mostly about flirting, which you thought was less than useful considering you were together already. Still, they at least had some useful tips.

So here you are, at a traveling merchant, looking through their stock. You're looking for something specific, and if anyone in Natlan would have it, it'd be a traveling merchant, since it doesn't grow here. The merchant seems to get a bit irritated, but then you lay your eyes on your prize. A Rainbow Rose. Native to Fontaine, your friends told you it was a symbol of love. Perfect to give to Kinich.

"I'll take one Rainbow Rose, please!" you asked the man.

"That'll be 7 thousand mora." he replied bluntly. 7 thousand?!?! you thought. That seems absurd! For one flower!? But it's not like I have any other options... You'd come all this way, determined to by a Rainbow Rose for him, and it's not like you didn't have the budget... you'd just have to cut out some other things off the list of things to buy.

You sighed. "Alright, I'll take it." Maybe you'd have been better going to Fontaine yourself, though going there probably wouldn't be an option even if you wanted to. You knew you could've tried haggling, but it was never your strong suit, plus this guy seemed pretty big, and you didn't want to anger him or anything. So you just handed over the mora.

"Pleasure doing business!" He seemed really proud of himself as he handed you the single rose. You debated asking for more, but you had only asked for one, and you were certain that's what he'd say back. Still, you had your gift. It was time to head to his house and give it to him. Let's just hope this didn't go horribly wrong...

You made your way to Kinich's home, building up the courage to knock. You wondered if he was even home. There was no way to tell without knocking, so that's what you did. You held the rose behind you, it had to be a surprise after all. You anxiously for an answer, thinking you had been right and he wasn't home. You knocked again just in case.

"Kiniiich! Are you deaf!? Someone's at the door! As a servant to the great K'uhul Ajaw, you oughta be quick to answer it!!!" You could hear Ajaw yell through the door. It was quite clear he wouldn't be the one to answer the door, but that was already assumed. At least you knew Kinich was home now.

"Calm down, Ajaw. If you're really that impatient you could've answered it yourself." You heard Kinich approach the door. Suddenly you were very aware of what you were about to do. Your nerves seemed like the could burst out of you at any moment. Your heart was running a marathon. As your thoughts were running, Kinich opened the door. "Oh, it's you. What brings you here?"

He seemed so calm. He never was really the type to be mushy gushy, and you appreciated that about him. Though it certainly didn't help your nerves. "Well, considering we're... well, partners. I wanted to get you something. To... show my appreciation! And... well... my love for you..." You trailed off in embarrassment, avoiding his gaze.

"Ahh, it's that human again! Well, do you have some entertainment for us? Another way to spectacularly fail?" Ajaw laughed. You and Kinich did not. "Or maybe you have a gift to offer to the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw! Something to prove your worth?"

"They said it was a gift for me, not you. And don't make fun of us." He glared at Ajaw, and the saurian shut up with a 'hmph'. He mumbled something about disrespect, but you couldn't quite make it out. "Well? What do you have for me?"

You hoped Ajaw wouldn't make fun of you, and hoped Kinich would like it. "Well..." You pulled the rainbow rose out from behind your back, presenting it to him. "It's called a rainbow rose, from Fontaine. It... I heard it was a symbol of love... so I wanted to give you one." You looked at him from the corner or your eyes for his reaction.

"Hmph! I'm glad it's not an offering to us! A symbol of love? Tch. Perfect for you couple of lovebirds." Ajaw remarked

"We're hardly lovebirds, Ajaw. We're not that experienced. Besides, if you hate it so much, why don't you leave?" He queried Ajaw. "This is a lovely gift." He takes the flower from your hands. He didn't smile often, but you could see a small one on his face just then.

Ajaw hmphed away. "You like it?" you asked him, and he quickly nodded in response. "I'm glad." Suddenly, the 7 thousand mora felt entirely worth it. Though knowing Kinich, the next thing he was going to say would be-

"How much did it cost?" You sighed at his predictability.

"I'm not telling you this time. You don't have to pay me back, really." Knowing him, he still wouldn't accept that.

"If you won't tell me, I guess I'll have to find some other way to reimburse you." You knew he'd say something like that. You were also glad he didn't press on the price. Who knows what he'd say if you told him? "Why don't you come inside? I can get this flower in some water and we can... chill together."

"That sounds great." You tried not to seem too excited at the idea, but you couldn't hide your smile as you entered the house at his signal. You sat down on the couch as you watched Kinich pull out a vase, fill it with water, and put the rose in it. Afterwards, he came and sat down next to you on the couch. Once again, things were awkward. At least you got one good moment. Maybe this could be a good moment to loosen up?

"You two really are hopeless. Maybe I need to give you some pointers, because clearly you suck at this!" Ajaw seemed both annoyed, but also prideful, as if he really could teach you something about romance. Could he..?

I might end up making a part two to this, where Ajaw teaches you something, or you naturally learn it, and get more comfortable with Kinich. Idk, if you want to see a part two, let me know!

I also want to make a modern AU fic where you move in with Kinich, so let me know if you want to see that, too.

Also for the rainbow rose part, I want you to know I asked a friend for a number between 1 and 60 (hi friend) and they gave me 7 or 42. With 1 mora being 1 cent, I didn't want the poor reader to actually end up needing to spend $420 on a single rose XD If you're wondering why between 1 and 60, it's because 1,000 mora is the usual price for local specialties. But of course, there's someone in Ritou selling dandelion seeds for 60,000 mora, so that set my range for someone selling outside of a nation. Anyway just fun research stuff I spent too much time doing for little to no impact :) (Also yes that means the rainbow rose was $70 USD, pretty pricey if I do say so myself😬)

If you enjoyed this, feel free to learn more about me and what I do here! You can also see if my requests are open there if you want something yourself!

[rottenpumpkin13]

Out Of Context Shit Heard On The SOLDIER Floor #7

Genesis: SEPHIROTH, STOP MEOWING AT ME.

Kunsel: Any loser twink can be a fem-boy, but it takes a real badass to be a fem-man.

Sephiroth: Did I "yee-haw" with joy, or did it convey depression?

Zack, holding up Cloud: BEHOLD.

Sephiroth, stealing a fry from Angeal's plate: A most generous offering. You will be spared. Angeal: FROM? Sephiroth: You will be spared.

Genesis, wearing sunglasses and holding a cappuccino: So there I was, gelato on my breasts—

Cloud: Aww, that's such a cute Halloween decoration. *pointing at Genesis sobbing in the corner*

Angeal: Who put a hotdog in the candy bowl?? Zack, in the background: Halloweenie.

Sephiroth: I could've sworn "motherfucker" was a compliment.

Angeal: IF YOU EAT THAT WEEK-OLD SUSHI PLATTER, YOUR INTESTINES WILL BECOME RADIOACTIVE.

Sephiroth: Zack, can I enjoy this steak dinner without you explaining A/B/O to me?

Lazard: I think we ALL need to beat our fathers with shovels, Sephiroth, you're not special.

Zack: NO! THAT'S MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT BANANA!

Genesis: He manspreads to assert dominance, I manspread to create a barrier between myself and heteronormativity. We are not the same.

Sephiroth: I just sent Angeal an email describing my feelings for him. If he doesn't reply, I'll show up at his apartment and superglue myself to the door.

Zack: Give me a pen, paper, and three Adderall, and I'll write something better than Loveless in one hour.

Kunsel: Everyone is subjected to failure, but at least I'm not Roche, who thought the plural of ninja was ninji.

Sephiroth: I have exactly three crayons on my person right now, and they're all stolen from Zack.

Angeal, chewing with his mouth full: Don't make psycho-sexual comments in front of my cheeseburger.

Zack, narrating what he's seeing: 🎶 Look at Angeal 🎶 beating Sephiroth with a frozen chicken because he forgot to take it out the freezer. 🎶

Sephiroth: Please refrain from analyzing my deep-seated fear of abandonment linked to my mother's absence and its impact on my emotional regulation, it's seven in the morning and I still haven't had coffee.

Cloud: I'm about two mental breakdowns away from resorting to gang affiliation.

Genesis: COUNTER SPELL! *flicks his wrist* TRAUMA!

Roche: I often have nightmares about Sephiroth attacking me with a spork.

Sephiroth, in the presence of a spider: I feel anti-at peace.

Zack: Dear diary, today I committed tax evasion, and felt great. Tomorrow I'll try embezzlement and eventually vandalism!

Sephiroth: Can you read this death threat note and check if my handwriting is recognizable?

Zack and Genesis: *Loudly arguing over who gets to be the ring bearer at Sephiroth and Angeal's wedding*

Angeal, laying on the floor: Good luck trying to find my will to live, gang.

Genesis: I'm flashing you a tit to maintain our friendship.

Sephiroth: If I had a gil for every time someone compared me to a cat, I'd have enough to purchase that expensive human cat bed that has been on my wishlist for ages.

Roche: Is my discount wig a joke to you, Zackary?

Cloud, placing an "I miss you" letter from his mother in Sephiroth's line of view: Yeah, that's right. Fuck you.

Lazard: Someone pinned a death threat on my office door written in glitter gel pen.

Genesis, flirting: I own an air-fryer.

Angeal: T-shirt that says "I survived Zack's power point presentation on aliens that included a photo of Sephiroth on the fourth slide"

Roche: Cloud Strife's evil twin…Grass Peace.

Sephiroth: *Showing Zack pictures of baby cows while Zack sobs into his burger*

Genesis: PUT. MASAMUNE. DOWN. No one is stealing your crayons.

Sephiroth: Genesis, I feel inspired to compliment your ass.

Lazard: Take a good, hard look at Sephiroth wearing flip-flops and tell me I shouldn't be stressed.

Sephiroth: A most efficient weapon to add to my arsenal *wielding an entire streetlamp*

Zack, talking to Angeal: My insecure trooper and faceless info guy, versus your 6'7 cat and walking red flag.

Kunsel: Is the cure to male loneliness *incomprehensible screeching* ?

[gallaghersgal]

Maggie, my lovey I come with another request for you!

The second chance romance trope, x my husband, Carmy.

Ok so walk with me here 🚶🏻‍♀️,

Carmy had one time forgotten about his anniversary with r, & she of course got very upset & sad about it. So he made sure the next day (without letting her find out) to go to the florist and place a standing order for flowers on their anniversary every year so she would never be able to tell if he forgot again.

Alright so flash forward years later, they break up. They both are pining for eachother / miss eachother a lot but Carmy was the one who called things off so R doesn’t try to contact him and Carmy is Carmy.

Their anniversary comes around and Carmy forgets of course because since they broke up he’s been even more of an animal in the kitchen but the flowers get delivered to R and of course it has the same note she got every year ‘Happy Anniversary baby, I love you always, xx- Bear’ at first she’s confused but then she is hopeful it was him reaching out to try and reconcile so she bites the bullet and calls him and is like “you still love me?” And mentally he’s like

*fffffuuuuuuuuuuck*

& has to explain that he placed a standing order so she could never be mad at him for forgetting again but he really does miss her

I’ll leave it up to you if r gets back together with him or if you want it to be pure angst!

(🤞fingers crossed it sends this time)

my dear capri, i love the exposition you've dropped in my inbox!!! here's the aftermath of receiving the flowers :(( warnings; angst, no happy ending, and swearing. also, here's the playlist i listened to while writing

from this trope list. part of my 1,500 follower celebration. masterlist -> here!

there are flowers at your door.

you've been fighting back tears the whole day. work was hell, your irritability heightened by the fact you'd barely eaten breakfast, not even bothering with lunch. it was harder now without carmen around. you've been angry all day, heels clicking in obnoxious stomps, your stomach burning and head pounding, and there are flowers at your door.

you kneel down to read the card, your heart clenching at the words. 'happy anniversary beautiful girl, i love you always. love, your carmen' a shaking hand comes to your mouth, you fumble with your keys to make it inside before you lose it entirely. he still loves you?

you dial carmen's number, hearing it ring twice before he picks up. "you sent me flowers?"

"o-oh, uh. t-that's a funny story, actually-"

your stomach twists in a knot. "i'd love to hear exactly how this is funny, carmen."

"well, forever ago, when i forgot our anniversary? i placed a standing order. so- so that way you'd always have flowers."

your heart sinks. he couldn't even bother to remember the date himself. worse, he didn't remember to cancel them. "you're fucking joking," you spit out.

"i-i'm not. baby-"

"don't call me that," you snap at him, your living room suddenly feeling claustrophobic. you push your window open to take a deep breath of the fresh air, turning your back to the wall and sinking down next to the plant he'd gifted you, moved inside to avoid the recent cold snap. a hand over your mouth muffles your sobs, your heart breaking all over again at this new information. "i can't believe you."

"i'm.. i'm s-sorry-"

"no! you don't get to apologize, that doesn't fix shit." you're practically yelling at him now, and you can hear the tears in his voice. but you don't care. it's about time you gave him a piece of your mind, hurting him the way he'd hurt you. "i thought for one goddamn second that maybe you still loved me. but- but you're just self-fucking-centered. so lost in your head you couldn't even remember to cancel flowers for the girl who's heart you snapped in two."

the silence on the other end tells you everything you need to know. you don't let him even try to continue, snapping at him, "lose my number, carmen."

there's a muffled noise on the other end, but you hang up without the chance to process it. your phone falls to the tile floor with a loud thud that echoes through your empty apartment. you flinch, then let out a noise somewhere between a scream and a sob.

the sound finds its way through your window, falling down to the street below, to the ears of the man repeating your name into his phone. "b-baby," he pleads, his voice breaking. but you've hung up now. he can't believe he forgot those stupid fucking flowers.

at least it showed him how you truly felt. that it would've been stupid to go through with it. stupid to walk up to your door with nothing but a barely planned apology to mend your broken heart.

carmen looks up to see your open window, balcony distinctly missing the potted plant he'd gifted you a year ago. a shaky hand lights a cigarette and he takes a hit but the smoke does nothing to soothe him as he draws his eyes away, turning away from your building for the final time.

[nomoreusername]

Only Human

Pairing:Minho x gender neutral reader

Summary:When a storm brings back bad memories, you hold Minho until he falls asleep.

I don't exactly know when it hit him. Maybe a little after he was struck by lightning. Maybe when WCKD first tazed him. Maybe during one of the several times they did he was there.

At the end of the day, it doesn't actually matter. The result is the same.

He has an intense fear of storms. One that he'll deny in front of everyone. One that'll try and laugh off. One that he swear he doesn't have because being struck by electricity 'didn't effect him that much'.

It did though. It absolutely did.

I was worried the entire day. With the clouds getting heavier and the sky getting darker, the weather wasn't looking too good. It was windier than we were used to and seemed like there was a cold front. All signs that his worst fear was coming soon.

Minho sometimes likes to sleep in his own cot, just by mine. He likes being independent, and cuddling all the time wasn't his thing. He'll stay up late and talk, sometimes reaching over to hold my hand, but that was it for the nights he was there.

I asked if he was sure he wanted to sleep alone tonight. It was about to rain pretty bad, and I'd be more than willing to hold him. He rejected the idea though, and I didn't want to push it. I just let myself drift off while praying he would actually be okay.

It must have only been a few hours until I woke up to thunder booming, lightning flashing, and heavy rain pounding on the ground. That was definitely not a fun thing to disturb my dreams. Life was so peaceful, and in just a few seconds it was completely ruined.

I sighed as I sat up and rubbed my eyes for a moment. With my mind adjusting to the dark, I let out a yawn.

That's when I heard it. Small whimpers and soft cries from beside me.

Glancing over, I saw Minho shaking as he covered his mouth so I wouldn't hear. His eyes were tightly shut as tears stained his face. Curled up in a ball, he sobbed into his hand.

Not saying anything, I got out of bed and went over to him. Running my hands through his hair, I whispered comforting words as I slowly sat beside him. Moving over, he gave me half of the bed. As I laid down I pulled the blankets over our heads to try and block out the light and the noise.

"It won't hurt you. Nobody's going to hurt you,"I promised. Burying his head in my chest, he cried harder, his tears getting on my shirt. Ignoring it, I cradled his head with my hands. "I won't let anything touch you. You're safe now, Minho. You're safe,"I repeated.

Right as I said those words that were supposed to assure him there was another roar of thunder followed by bright lightning. Wrapping his arms around me even tighter, he seemed unable to stop his tears. Holding back my own from seeing him in so much pain, I closed my eyes as I kissed his temple.

"It's okay. It'll be over soon. I promise it won't last forever,"I swore. Shaking his head, he sniffled as he wore himself out. Humming to him, I kept him as close as possibly. Tangling his legs in mine, he was curled up to my side.

Minho's one of the strongest people that I know. He's been through so much. He knows what hell is. He's seen it with his own eyes. He's been touched by the devil himself. He's been burned despite the way he never put his hand on the stove.

He's suffered so much. His brain chemistry will never be the same because of it. He will forever be scarred, doomed to live a life people expect him to be grateful for while his past keeps doing everything to haunt him.

He's only human. That means that sometimes he just needs to be held. He needs to be shielded from the world. He needs to be shown love. He needs someone to show that they won't be somebody who leaves him.

I'll never leave him. I'll hold him through every single storm and stay up all night looking out for him.

Exactly the way I am right now.

[mytheoristavenue]

Day 3 -

SE Franken Stein x Reader - Winter Proposal

Summary: Stein thanks you for staying by his side during the spread of Madness by offering to stay by your side permanently.

Warnings: Fluff, grammatical errors, mentions of poor mental health

Your body shuddered, trudging through ankle-deep snow, alone in the woods. Stein had invited you to his residence for what he called a 'test grading date'. He'd add that word to the back of anything he knew you'd be reluctant to take him up on. He knew how you felt for him, and he knew exactly how to get his way. You knew as well as he did, that in reality, he just wanted you to grade his class' tests in his stead, in exchange for coffee and company.

"Glad you could make it," he smiled warmly, standing in front of his home, about fifty feet away from you.

"Oh, stuff it, Stein," you huffed, stomping towards him. "You know it's like zero degrees out here? And you're making me walk in the snow, you should be ashamed!"

"It's actually fifteen degrees," he corrected with a chuckle. "But, really. Thank you for coming all this way."

"Yeah, yeah," you dismissed, now close to passing him by on the way to the door. "Let's get inside before I freeze to death."

To your surprise, Stein caught you by the wrist, pulling you back. "Not so fast," He skillfully spun you back to him, pulling you closer. "Did you really think I'd make you walk all the way here just to grade papers?"

"Well, yeah..." you swallowed, trying to conceal a blush. "That's totally something you would do."

"Maybe the old me, but I've changed," he replied, a content smile playing on his lips. "For the better, I hope."

"Yeah," you scoffed, rolling your eyes a bit. "I'm sure you feel loads better now that you're not being poisoned."

"I'm serious," he said sternly. "I feel like a new person, and it's all thanks to you."

You could no longer hide your red cheeks as more and more blood rushed to your face. "S-Stein, what are you talking about?"

Cold hands sunk down to the small of your back, pinning you against him as olive eyes bore into you. "Even at my worst, you were there," he praised, tilting his head to the side. "You never gave up on me, no matter how dangerous loving me became. You worked tirelessly to help me, with no reward. I can't thank you enough for that."

Kind, encouraging words from Stein were few and far between, so you'd never gotten accustomed to hearing them, and needless to say, it filled your tummy with butterflies. "T-That's what friends do, right? You'd do the same for me."

"You're not just my friend, (Y/N), you're my biggest support. And...if you'd have me, even after all the times I took your love for granted, I'd like to make you my wife..." From the corner of your eye, you could see him reach into his coat pocket and fish something out. "I can't offer you diamonds or precious metals, but hopefully this," he confessed, raising a hand-crafted steel ring. "Would be enough, for now, at least."

"Oh, Stein..." you breathed, totally speechless. "D-Did you make this yourself?"

"I did," he laughed. "Which is why it looks the way that it does, I'm a doctor, not a jeweler. It's made from repourosed surgical steel, so it's body safe, at least."

You couldn't help but giggle as tears streamed down your face. Looking it over, you could tell it was made terribly, beads of weld speckling it and the silhouette misshapen, but it looked just like Stein did- patched together.

"Should I take your laughter as a no?" he chuckled cooly, still holding you.

You jumped against him in response, needing to be infinitely closer. "Of course, I'll marry you, Franken!" you sobbed, nuzzling his throat. "And the ring is beautiful, I love it."

"That's a relief," he smiled gently, hugging you tightly. "I was almost nervous there."

"I could never reject you, Stein, you know that."

"I do," he agreed, before cracking a grin. "Now, Mrs. Stein, would you do the honor of grading my kids' tests while I make some coffee?"

Taglist:

@usopps-devotee

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Hi it’s me! I would like to order 1 obsessive/yandere Johnny with a side of however you want to do it and my compliments and a big kiss and hug to the chef for making amazing works. I’ve been reading your works a lot and look forward to your posts🥰🩵

Thank you so much sweetheart! I hope this scratches your itch 😈

Your Shadow

Contains; yandre Johnny, possessive behavior

~~

Your coworkers nicknamed Johnny your shadow. You didn't mind having a handsome, brooding man observing you from the other side of the bar as you cleaned out glasses and prepared drinks. He wasn't exactly discreet about it either; he wouldn't order drinks from anyone but you.

He had been a regular presence for weeks, and there was a betting pool for when he'd finally ask you out. You made the mistake of telling one of your coworkers you found him handsome, and now, whenever they saw him, they teased you relentlessly.

One night, as you exchanged glances with Johnny across the bar while cleaning up, an already drunk patron stumbled in and slapped the countertop. You regarded the man with a raised eyebrow.

“Well? Ain't you gonna ask what I want?” he demanded.

“Last call was five minutes ago, and you’re already drunk.”

“Cut yer tone and get me a goddamn drink,” he growled.

“No. Like I said, last call has already happened.”

The belligerent man leaned over the counter, grabbing your shirt. “Make me a goddamn drink, bitch.”

You reached for the gun under the counter, but you didn't need to because a look of terror crossed the man's face, and he dropped your collar instantly.

“Back away, nice n’ slow,” Johnny's low voice was barely audible as he stood close behind the drunk man. The man raised his hands and backed up, sweat beading on his alcohol-flushed face. 

“Was this man giving you trouble, sugar?” Johnny asked, his dark eyes meeting yours. 

“She wasn't doing her job ‘s all! I just wanted a-” The man protested, but froze when Johnny pressed closer. 

“Say another word, and I'll gut you from behind,” Johnny growled. “I asked the lady a question.”

You blinked rapidly, adjusting your shirt and nodding slightly. “Y-yeah, a little bit. It's alright though, Johnny. Don't get yourself in trouble.” 

“This ain't trouble. I'd do a lot worse to him if we weren't being watched.” Johnny digs the knife into the man's back, making him whimper. “You hear me? If I see you ‘round here and no one's lookin’, ain’t nobody's ever gonna see you again.” 

The man's red face drained, leaving a dread filled expression behind. 

“Got it?” Johnny asked, twisting his hold on the man's arm. 

“I got it!” The man hiccuped pathetically, tears rolling down his plump face.

“Get out of here,” Johnny said, shoving the man toward the door. The man tripped over his own feet and fell to the floor. You saw his pants soaked with urine, and your nose crinkled in disgust. The man sobbed and stumbled as he got up and pathetically dragged himself out of the bar. 

Your eyes left the sorry sight and trailed to Johnny, who was still watching you intently behind messy strands of greased black hair. “You okay, baby?”

You blushed. “Yeah. I'm okay.” 

“Can't stand to see anyone touch you,” he muttered. 

“I'm alright now. Thank you, Johnny.”

“Anytime,” he said, still watching you intently. “I'll never let anyone disrespect my girl like that again.”

You weren't sure how to feel about being called his girl when you'd barely spoken a word to him, but you were thankful all the same. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I always will.” His hand reached out, caressing your face. “I promise you that.” 

[deadboyswalking]

Made myself sad because I imagined Yoichi and Kudo meeting again inside One For All.

Yoichi had been dead for a little while, yet unable to fully pass on as his soul echo lived on inside the Quirk. He was lonely again, trapped all by himself in another dark room because of his brother.

Suddenly, a blue light filled the room, so bright that he could scarcely look at it. It settled, slowly, and when he could finally open his eyes they instantly filled with tears.

Kudo. His savior. His beloved. Had he come to pull Yoichi out again? Could they be free together, under the sun again?

In his heart, Yoichi knew that couldn't be true, but he still had hope. Kudo always gave him hope.

His beloved had a sad smile on his face as Yoichi stumbled forward, pulling him into a tight embrace.

He was warm to the touch, just like the last time they'd held each other as Yoichi bled out. But there was no heartbeat, steady and sure. Not anymore.

Yoichi gasped, sobbed, clung to Kudo as the other man's arms finally encircled him again.

"Shhh, shhh, it's okay," Kudo said, running his fingers through Yoichi's long, white hair.

"No, it's not," Yoichi muttered, his voice nearly cracking on every syllable, "You look the same. Exactly the same. How long?"

Kudo did not require further elaboration. He sighed.

"A couple of months."

"This is my fault," Yoichi said bitterly, "If I hadn't... if I'd stayed in that room..."

"Self-martyring idiot," Kudo murmured, "He was always going to kill me. I scared the fuck out of him, you know."

Yoichi chuckled.

"I know. Still..."

"It's stupid to think of the what-ifs. I passed the power on to our friend, and he got away. I'm satisfied."

"Our friend is all alone, facing that monster, and we can't do anything," Yoichi said, "How can you be satisfied?"

"I have to be," Kudo replied simply, "What else is there? I'm mad as hell that he killed me and I can't fight him anymore, but at least I get to see you again, and hold you again." He tilted Yoichi's chin up with his finger and gently pressed their lips together. "And do that again too."

Despite himself, Yoichi smiled.

"I missed you."

"Same here. And our friend is strong and smart, so I think he'll be able to stay away for a long time. As for us, I think we deserve to rest for a bit, don't you think? Your brother can't touch us here."

A sickening feeling crept into Yoichi's gut just then.

"My body... what happened to it?" he asked quietly. Kudo stiffened, then tightened their embrace.

"Burned to ashes with my own hands," he replied, the choke in his voice audible, "I built the pyre, laid your body on it, lit the flame, and stood watch for hours until it was done. Until there was nothing left but ash to blow away in the wind."

"Kudo..." Yoichi started, reaching up for his lover's face.

"Our first time together, you told me about your brother's perversions," Kudo cut him off, pained and angry, "I couldn't let him touch you again, even if you were gone and only a corpse was left. You hear me? I couldn't let him!"

Yoichi brushed away a few tears with his slender hands as he gently forced Kudo to meet his eyes. Kudo had saved him, over and over, even when this last act of love had clearly broken his heart to carry out.

"Kudo, my love, thank you," he whispered, before he pulled his savior down into another slow kiss.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius x fem!reader

CHAPTER SIXTEEN (see full series list here)

1993

Giving an elf clothes is basically the same as throwing them off a cliff. Life-ruining. You think about this as you leave Winky sobbing at Crouch's feet, turning to return to your tent. Poor Winky. First she had to deal with that awful man as a master, and now she's being set free by said man. It's a tough life for house elves, you'll give them that. This all just reminds you of Bitsy — you'll have to go visit her first thing when school starts.

You glance to your left, spotting Mr Weasley escorting the kids back to their tent, and feel guilt gnawing at your gut.

"Give me a sec, will you?" you say to Minerva, jogging over to their group. "Mr Weasley?"

He looks up, raising his eyebrows when he sees you.

"I'm sorry for all that...I'm sure it was a shock to the system..." you say warily. "But please, don't think of me any differently. My — my past has no effect whatsoever on my work, and I can assure you that I will always do what is best for my students and — "

Mr Weasley brings up a hand, waving you down with a shake of his head. "Don't worry, professor. The boys — they speak very well of you. And Ginny too — I'm not worried."

You're surprised at that. You half expected him to look at you in disgust and steer his children away from you. It warms your heart to know he doesn't think you're bad.

"Thank you, Mr Weasley," you say genuinely. He gives you a small smile. "And I'd really appreciate it if maybe you...kept this to yourself? It's just — my job is everything to me, and if others found out..."

He nods understandingly. "You have my word."

You smile at him, nodding nervously. You glance at the three kids behind him, hoping your concern for them is communicated well enough. You head for Mr Diggory, giving him the same story, and he just nods like he wants to get as far from you as possible. That hurts, but you'll take what you can get. You scamper back to Minerva, and the two of you head back to your tent.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The rest of your summer break is...boring. Believe it or not, it can get very lonely in your house with just Dubh as company. You consider going to visit your parents again, but part of you feels guilty when you think about leaving. What if Sirius tries to contact you but can't reach you at your parents'? It's too much of a risk.

You and Remus spend your time together, like you've always done, but it's still not the same. It's not like you spend every waking moment together — and you miss him when he's not there. You miss the company of your best friend. The silence of your little home is deafening when you wake to do the exact same things you did the day before.

One evening, your mind wanders to Harry. You wonder how he's getting on. You hope he's safe and not still shaken after the events of the Quidditch World Cup — that night definitely set you on edge and worried for your godson. Perhaps it's time you should actually make an effort to contact him — now that he knows well who you are, he doesn't deserve to just have that be it. Right now, your relationship is still very professor-studenty...and you don't want that. You're his godmother and you want him to see you exactly as that — someone he can trust, someone he can confide in and talk to without worrying about school or work.

So, with all this in mind, you grab a quill and some ink, fishing out a piece of parchment and setting it all down on the table.

Dear Harry,

Too formal, you think. You scratch it out messily, starting again.

Dearest Harry,

No, that's not right. You scratch that out.

Hey, Harry!

What are you so excited about? This is just setting him up for something interesting, and you really have nothing interesting to tell. Scratch that.

What's up, Hazza?

Scratch.

My beloved godson,

Scratch scratch.

To: Harry

Scratch scratch scratch.

You look down at the parchment, realising you've just about scratched out the top half of the parchment. Nice one. You crumple it up, throwing it towards the rubbish bin in the corner of the room and missing it by half a mile. You groan, getting up and begrudgingly tossing it in the bin properly and getting another piece of parchment. You take a deep breath before starting this one.

Harry,

I hope you're well, and that you're enjoying your stay with the Weasleys'. Do tell Ron and Hermione I said hello and I'm really looking forward to seeing you all in September! Hopefully there's a year ahead where the three of you aren't getting up to too much mischief...though perhaps that's an impossible thing to ask for.

I hope you're doing okay after the World Cup. I won't mollycoddle you and say you have nothing to worry about because you're old enough to know better, but you can always talk to me, Harry. I mean it. I'm your godmother and it's high time I start acting like it.

I'm afraid I don't really have anything interesting to share. The summer can be quite boring for me — it's just myself and Dubh. Remus comes 'round a lot, but I think that's because he gets a free meal out of it.

There's a room here for you, y'know. When we were made godparents, Sirius demanded that you have your own room here because it was a 'necessity'. Personally I think it was just so he could get the chance to put the idea in your head that tying your dad's shoelaces together would be a good thing. It's lucky one-year-old Harry had little-to-no dexterity.

Write back soon with all the news! I could do with a little excitement.

All my love and best wishes,

You sign your name, tapping your quill against your chin thoughtfully as you read back over the letter.

P.S. If you hear anything from that daft dog will you please let me know? I've gotten no word and can't help but worry. Enjoy the photo!

You spend five minutes rummaging around for a photo, eventually landing on one of a young Lily smiling sheepishly, her cheeks rosy, clutching a copy of her potions textbook in her arms.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Children run and crowd the platform at King's Cross, hugging parents and grimacing as their mothers press sloppy kisses to their cheeks. You push your own trunk and Dubh's crate through the crowd, finally managing to get onto the train and into your usual compartment in the Prefects' carriage.

You sit down with a sigh, taking out your books and doing what you usually do: touch up lesson plans. Then you pull out a fictional book, written in French, hoping to brush up on your skills in the language before the arrival of the Beauxbatons students.

This year, something big is happening at Hogwarts: the Triwizard Tournament. One of-age student from Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons is selected and the three participants compete in three tasks to win a grand prize of a thousand galleons. You're quite excited for it — especially to meet the new teachers from the other schools. It's something to look forward to!

After a while, you decide to get up and stretch your legs. You'll go for a walk down the train, maybe have a quick word with your seventh years and see how they're doing. Off you go, and luckily you do spot a gaggle of your seventh years in a compartment with the door open. Inside, you find Cedric Diggory, Molly Milvy, Elisa Catchweld and James Smith. All Hufflepuffs. They tell you about their summers, the holidays they went on, their hopes for this coming year, their worries about exams. Molly Milvy seems especially worried about her Astronomy exam, pulling out a thick textbook from her bag and flipping it open.

"I've just — Professor, how in Merlin's name do you analyse spectra? I just — I cannot wrap my head around it — "

You chuckle light-heartedly. "Oh, Ms Milvy, we'll cover it, don't you worry. I'll explain it all when we come to it."

"When will we come to it? I'm seriously just beginning to worry — "

You gently take the book from the blonde girl, closing it shut. "I'll make a note to get an early start on spectra with your class this year, and I'm happy to spend time going over it outside of class with you if needs be."

She smiles, some of the stress leaving her face. "Okay, okay. Thank you, Professor."

You glance at Cedric Diggory. Did his father tell him about you? If he did, he's not showing it. He's looking as friendly as he's always been. You nod and smile at the students, bidding them goodbye before continuing on your way down the train. You pass students, giving them all greeting smiles, before eventually you near a compartment, peering in the window and spotting Harry, Ron and Hermione sitting inside, chatting away amicably. You knock on the door, smiling when Hermione stands to open it.

"Professor!" She immediately starts to smooth her hair down in an effort to look more presentable and you chuckle at her antics.

"I hope you don't mind my interrupting," you say, and they all shake their heads. You slide the door closed behind you, wondering if you should sit down or not. No, maybe not. Surely they don't want their professor butting in like this. "Anyways, I'm just popping in to say hello...Harry, did you get my letter?"

Harry nods. "Oh, yeah, I did, thanks. I meant to send one back but it only arrived a few days ago, thought it best to just leave it 'til now..."

"Oh, that's fine. Nothing to worry about," you reply with a smile.

"Professor, I wanted to ask you something," Harry questions and you nod. "At the Cup, when the Dark Mark was conjured...do you think that means Voldemort is back?"

You bite your lip, shrugging. "Honestly? I don't know, Harry. But I do know that with Wormtail free to do whatever the hell he wants, it's best to keep your wits about you."

"Do you know who conjured it?"

You scoff. "Sure if I knew, don't you think I'd have said something that night? I haven't got a clue, I'm afraid."

There's a brief silence, and you nearly consider leaving them because you think you're boring them, but Ron asks you a question.

"How come you're not an animagus?"

You blink in surprise at him.

"Y'know, 'cause all the rest of them were."

Your legs are tired from standing and you decide to forego all previous worries and just sit yourself down next to your godson, smiling across at Ron.

"Oh, Ron, you think the boys would have let a girl in on their little tricks?" You chuckle. "They had their own little club of...animals, and none of the rest of us were supposed to know. Though I will say that they did choose a terrible spot to perform their little ritual."

"Ritual?" Harry asks curiously. You can spot the glow in his eyes at the prospect of hearing about his parents and godfather and it warms your heart to see.

"The animagus one," you answer. You look over at Hermione. "Hermione, I'm sure you know of this already — " the girl swells with pride, " — but the spell for becoming an animagus is incredibly complicated. First, you have to keep a mandrake leaf under your tongue for an entire month — Sirius found that one especially difficult — "

"Why?"

You laugh. "Well, one, because it's awful to eat and drink with that in...and two, because Sirius had a fondness for snogging every girl in the castle."

Hermione's eyes widen and her face flushes. Ron and Harry share a look as both jaws drop.

"What?"

You grin at their shocked faces. "Yes, Sirius was quite the ladies man back in his day. Couldn't keep him away from a pretty girl! Anyway, then the boys had to say this chant every day...oh, what was it? I can't remember — "

"Amato, animo, animato, animagus," Hermione says and you nod.

"Yes, that was it. Every sunrise and sundown, those boys were chanting that incantation. They had to make up this potion and drink it during a lightning storm. Which, took quite a while...but the night there finally was one, they went up to the Astronomy Tower, for ease of access or something, I guess. And well, I spent practically every night up there in the Tower and may have walked in during their transformation."

"Really?" Hermione says, engrossed in your story.

"Oh, yes. It was weird, honestly, going up there and seeing Remus standing around these three familiar-looking animals..." you smile, remembering the memory. "But that's it, really. I mean, I already knew Remus was a werewolf before that, and now I knew the rest of 'em were transforming into animals whenever they pleased! But to answer your question, Ron, I had missed the chance to become one, and I wasn't as committed as they were. Though I would love to see what animal I'd be...James used to joke that I'd be a sea urchin, but I reckon I'd be something cooler like...like, I don't know, a dragon."

The three laugh and you smile.

"So, Harry, have you heard anything from Sirius?" you say, worry knotting your gut.

Harry nods and you feel a wave of relief washing over you. "Yeah, I have. He sent me one a while ago, kind of at the beginning of summer? He — uh — he said he's fine. And well, I sent him one a few weeks ago, before the Cup — but I haven't gotten a reply yet."

You nod thoughtfully. "Alright, thank goodness. He — he can't send me letters, you see. The Ministry are monitoring our house."

"Wait, really?" Hermione says in surprise. "That's awful."

You shrug. "It's nothing I haven't had to deal with before. They just — they're desperate. Desperate to get something on me."

"But you've been proven innocent!" Hermione exclaims. "And Dumbledore trusts you. Surely that's enough for them?"

You shake your head grimly. "I'm afraid not. The public hates that Sirius managed to escape, and the Ministry are just hoping they'll catch me out on something and make everyone think they've done something worthwhile. It'd also be a good jab at Dumbledore because he trusts me — Fudge worries he wants to become the Minister of Magic. Not that I think Dumbledore has even the tiniest shred of interest in that position anyway."

"Why wouldn't he want to be the Minister of Magic?" Ron asks incredulously, scoffing.

"He says it's because he has everything here, at Hogwarts," you say with a shrug, before adding with a small smile, "but if you ask me, I think it's because when you have control over everything like that, you don't have to fight for anything. Dumbledore likes that fight."

You roll your jumper's sleeves up, sighing. You should probably get going. Someone might accuse you of favouritism, sitting here with these three. Which...wouldn't be wrong, of course, but still not a great look for you. Hermione lets out a small gasp, looking at your forearm. You follow her gaze, landing on a tattoo.

"What's that for, Professor?" She asks curiously. Ron and Harry both lean forward to get a better look. It's that same painting of the pottery that Remus did for you, now permanently etched onto your skin. It's a jug, a plate and two cups. Upon the jug, is a pair of antlers, and on the plate, a lily flower.

You smile fondly, brushing over the art with your fingers. "It's pottery. Y'know, for the Potters..." you smile over at Harry. "There's Lily and there's James." You point to their symbols respectively. "S'pose I'll have to get another for you, eh, Harry? Wonder what it'd be."

He beams back at you, like it's the greatest honour in the world. The corners of his eyes crease behind his glasses.

You stand with a sigh, brushing over your jumper and pulling the sleeves back down over your tattoo. Not your only tattoo, by the way. There's another much bigger one on your back, but that's a story for another day.

"Well, I best be off," you say. "I'll see you all at dinner."

With that, you leave the compartment, slipping down the corridor again. You glance over your shoulders to see Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle standing at their compartment doorway, a jeering sneer on Draco's face.

Ah, teenage drama. Happens to us all.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The Great Hall is alive with great chatter and excitement. Inside, students buzz with anticipation, yapping away to each other as they reunite. You sit yourself down at the staff table, greeting everyone after the holidays. There's an empty seat beside you, Minerva's usual spot. On your left, sits the tiny Professor Flitwick, who greets you cheerfully.

"Hello!"

"Hello, Filius!" you chirp back, smiling at him.

Hagrid is of course, busy with the first years, battling their way across the Black Lake. Minerva, you saw, is busy supervising the drying of the Entrance Hall floor — which had previously been assaulted by Peeves' water balloons.

You glance down the table, wondering who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is. You scan and scan for a new face, but are stuck with Severus Snape's ugly scowl as your eyes meet. You wave condescendingly at him, bending your fingers like you're waving goodbye to a little toddler. His nostrils flare and he looks away from you. Poor baby. Holding onto that grudge against Sirius all these years, he must have an awful dull life.

Professor Dumbledore sits in the middle, smiling contentedly out at the students as you all wait for the first-years to arrive. Professor Sprout sits on the other side of Flitwick. You like Pomona Sprout — she's that kind of funny and friendly woman who won't take any bullshit. It's great.

"Pomona, long time no see!" You say, leaning to talk to her while Flitwick charms his spectacles to dance on the table for his enjoyment. He claps his hands excitedly, ignoring the two of you.

"Aye, that'd be right!" She exclaims heartily. "By Godric, you wouldn't see such rain if you prayed for it! I was absolutely drowneded outside!"

You chuckle, choosing not to correct her use of 'drowneded'. "Honestly! I had to use about three drying spells before coming in here. Madness."

No sooner have the words left your mouth than the doors of the Great Hall swing open and Minerva strides through, leading a trail of young first-years behind her. They're positively drenched, shivering from head to toe with the cold. There must have been no time to dry them off, you suppose. One young lad is covered in a large mass of fabric, one you recognise as Hagrid's moleskin overcoat. He's practically swimming in the massive piece of clothing, his head just barely poking out from the top of it.

The first-years look around in wonderment, gazing up at the sky, looking nervously out at all the older students, looking back at the teachers. You smile and wave at the ones who look at you, hoping to ease their nerves a little bit.

Minerva places the Sorting Hat on a three legged stool before the first-years and you suppress a groan.

A thousand years or more ago,

When I was newly sewn,

There lived four wizards of renown,

Whose names are still well known:

Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,

Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,

Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,

Shrewd Slytherin, from fen,

They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,

They hatched a daring plan

To educate young sorcerers

Thus Hogwarts school began.

Now each of these four founders

Formed their own house, for each

Did value different virtues

In the ones they had to teach.

By Gryffindor, the bravest were

Prized far beyond the rest;

For Ravenclaw the cleverest

Would always be the best;

For Hufflepuff, hard workers were

Most worthy of admission;

And power-hungry Slytherin

Loved those of great ambition.

While still they did divide

Their favourites from the throng,

Yet how to pick the worthy ones

When they were dead and gone?

'Twas Gryffindor who found the way,

He whipped me off his head

The founders put some brains in me

So I could choose instead!

Now slip me snug about your ears,

I've never yet been wrong,

I'll have a look inside your mind

And tell where you belong!

The Great Hall erupts into applause and you applaud too, thankful that it's over. Truth be told, you think the sorting is a whole load of hogwash. No one person is just cunning, no one person is just intelligent...it makes no sense. You like to think that though you were placed in Gryffindor, you were a sort of Jack-of-all-trades. Kind, clever, cunning and brave. Of course, you know that perhaps you're setting yourself too high...but who doesn't have a fantasy?

The Sorting begins, and you drum your fingers on the table in front of you. Thirty-three years old and you feel just as impatient as the other students do, desperately hoping for Minerva to hurry it up a little. You can feel your stomach gargling loudly, glancing around to see if anyone noticed. Sprout did, and she's nodding bleakly at you as though she feels your pain.

This is the one thing you don't like about the feast — the lack of one while you wait for the Sorting to finish. Sometimes, you try and use your intuition to guess what house they're going to get. A young girl hops up onto the stool, and Minerva places the hat on her head.

Ravenclaw, for sure.

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Yeah, well, I was going to say that.

Time drags on and on, and you're seriously starting to consider taking a chomp out of the wooden table in front of you. If you squint just right...it looks like a bar of Honeyduke's chocolate.

But thankfully, it seems you won't have to go that far, because Minerva finally plucks the hat from the stool once the last student has been sorted and carries both the stool and the hat out.

Dumbledore stands, arms opened wide in welcome. "I have only two words to say to you," he tells you, his deep voice booming around the hall, "Tuck in."

And tuck in you do. You eat to your heart's content, glad to finally be rid of the rumbling in your tummy. You clink your goblets against Sprout and Flitwick's cheerfully, beaming when Minerva finally joins you at the table, huffing something about Peeves and his antics.

Finally, when the last of the desserts have been cleared and plates have been licked clean, Dumbledore gets to his feet again. Wondrously, the buzz of chatter ceased almost at once, everyone turning to listen to what he's going to say. You wish you had that kind of power over a room.

"So!" he says, smiling around at everyone. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention while I give out a few notices."

"Mr Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden in the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four-hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr Filch's office, if anyone would like to check it."

Filch is standing down the bottom of the hall, eyes flitting about the hall suspiciously. He lands on the Weasley twins and gives them a dark look — you expect he hopes to really catch them out this year. Not a chance.

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is strictly out-of-bounds to all students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all those below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

Now this sets the students off. There is loud whispering and muttering, a few outbursts of 'What?'

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy — but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts — "

At that moment, there's a deafening roll of thunder and the doors to the Great Hall bang open.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter seventeen here!

a massive thank you to all my taglist loves for all their kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem @jennifer0305

[libbys-braincell-loss]

Im bored as hell so heres a short SMG4 x SMG3 oneshot (idk what to name it)

(Kinda angst? Not exactly, it also mostly includes some wholesome fluff too; takes place after the events of the Puzzlevision movie and references IGBP, so spoilers for that ig lol)

(Also its really short)

---

SMG4 was out for a walk, late in the evening outside of the castle. He was lost in thought - a lot of things were eating him up inside his mind since the day Mr. Puzzles took him and his friends and forced them to perform in his dumbass shows.

Just one thing was going through his mind.

When Mr. Puzzles showed him his corrupted behavior when he was going through the phase where he absolutely had to make the perfect video ever.

"Who knew that you could make such a great villain?" Mr. Puzzles had said.

He really did become a villain, didn't he..?

That was an entire year ago, and he still regretted his choices and still beats himself up over moments like that.

SMG4 stands in places and observes the pebbles on the ground.

"SMG4?"

The familiar voice surprised him. He turned around, and not too far away from where he stood was SMG3, holding his beloved Eggdog.

"What are you doing out and about at this hour?" SMG3 asked.

"I could ask the same to you?" SMG4 said in return.

"I always let Eggdog roam around at this hour," SMG3 said, putting Eggdog on the ground, as he hops off. "It's quiet out. No one, specifically Mario, is up at this hour to disturb our peace. It's real nice. ...Why are you out here? You're rarely out and about this late."

SMG4 sighs. "I've had things on my mind, and I thought touching grass would clear my head, y'know?" He chuckles.

SMG3 begins expressing concern, but is very quick to hide it. "What's up?"

SMG4 observes the ground. "Do you realize that I went through that... 'absolute perfection' phase over a year ago? Can you believe it's been that long?"

"Oh, shit," SMG3's eyes widen. "Time really flew by, huh?"

"...Yeah."

SMG4 stares sadly at his castle, not too far away.

"To think that something so impressive and monumental... wouldn't be here if I didn't do something so dumb."

SMG3 worriedly steps closer to him, realizing what's up.

"Is Mr. Puzzles' comment bothering you?"

SMG4 looks at 3. He nods.

"I just... hate the fact I was so selfish that I ended up hurting the people I cared for most," SMG4 says, blinking back tears creeping through his tearducts. "I didn't want to be a villain, I never wanted to..."

SMG4 buries his face in his hands. SMG3 inches closer, holding out his arms, but ultimately deciding against putting hands on the person considered his rival, so he lowered his arms.

"I never considered you a villain, SMG4."

4 looks up at 3.

"You were blindsighted, but the stupid keyboard corrupting you up was out of your control," says SMG3. "You are a dumbass, not a villain. You never had malicious intent. Mr. Puzzles is wrong and we are all thankful he's dead. He was such a sicko-"

SMG3 gets cut off, as SMG4 hugs him. SMG3 feels 4 silently sobbing into his shoulder. He is in a stun lock for a second, before coming to terms that 4 was hugging him. He wraps his own arms around his crying "nemesis". He gently rubs his back reassuringly.

"4, I promise you, you are no villain. You could never be a villain like me." SMG3 says, chuckling.

He feels SMG4 chuckle a teensy bit while buried in his shoulder, reassuring 3 that he would be okay, thus bringing him back at ease.

"Says the person who saved my life and called me a friend," SMG4 says, face still up against SMG3.

"Not like you said anything different when you saved my life," SMG3 chuckled.

SMG4 slowly lifts his face away from SMG3's shoulder.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you cared about me," SMG4 said half jokingly.

SMG3 smiles sadly.

"I'll be honest, I'm tired of pretending I don't."

SMG4 and SMG3 look into each others eyes. 4 smiles slyly.

"I knew it. I knew you were a tsundere."

SMG3 gently pushes SMG4 away from him, smiling and pretending to be mad. "Don't make me actually hate you."

4 chuckles.

SMG3 looks at him again. "Are you sure you're okay now?"

SMG4 smiles.

"Much better, thanks to you."

SMG3 smiles, looking to the ground.

"Don't mention it. ..Seriously, don't mention it. If Meggy hears about this, I will not hear the end of it."

SMG4 grins, and begins walking back toward his castle, as Eggdog walks up to his owner, ready to head inside.

"I heart you too, SMG3," SMG4 says before walking to the castle entrance.

SMG3 rolls his eyes, smiling, as he picks up Eggdog and the two head back into the cafe.

[666writingcafe]

Strange Behavior

A Text Conversation Between MC and Solomon

MC: Asmo's acting weird.

Solomon: How so?

MC: Ever since Simeon and Luke arrived at the House, he's been spacing out frequently and looking rather sad, and yet whenever I ask him what's wrong, he brushes me off and quickly changes the topic, trying way too hard to seem upbeat.

Solomon: I see. Perhaps he's homesick.

MC: That's what I'm thinking. He probably doesn't feel right being here in the Devildom. Unfortunately, him returning to the Celestial Realm is out of the question.

Solomon: I can relate to Asmo on a certain level. While I miss the place where I was born sometimes, I've lived too long a life for it to still be recognizable to me. But unlike our demon friend, I'm not sure I want to go back even if it WAS the exact same place I left.

Solomon: The only reason I would is to witness the nature there one last time. It was the sort of place where the earth and the sky seemed to go on forever. The vast meadows, the deep blue sky, the shadows that fell over the valley...it was truly magical.

MC: If circumstances were different, I'd have liked to go visit it with you, but I understand if the memories are too painful to retread.

Solomon: *blushing crow sticker*

Solomon: The last time I was in my hometown was also when I first met Asmo. I'd come back home after being away for several decades, and I decided to pop in a local tavern to grab something to drink. Asmo was sitting at the bar, drunk beyond belief.

MC: Good or bad?

Solomon: ??

MC: Was he having a good time or not?

Solomon: OH!

Solomon: He was rather depressed. Apparently a human he'd been pursuing rejected him, and so he was sobbing uncontrollably. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him, so I tried talking to him. That was a choice I immediately regretted, because once he started talking, he just wouldn't stop, and I hadn't intended on staying at the tavern for very long.

MC: That sounds about right.

Solomon: The good news is that I was able to propose forging a pact with him, and the rest, as they say, is history.

MC: *shocked crow sticker*

Solomon: What?

MC: No wonder this version of Barbatos doesn't like you.

Solomon: Now what's THAT supposed to mean? *angry emoji*

MC: You LITERALLY took advantage of someone while they were drunk!

Solomon: It wasn't like I slept with him!

MC: It doesn't matter, Solomon. You shouldn't have made a pact with him while he was drunk and heartbroken.

Solomon: I didn't think I'd have another chance.

MC: Save your excuses.

Solomon: Well, OBVIOUSLY I wouldn't do that sort of thing now, MC.

MC: Really? *eye roll emoji*

Solomon: Yes, really.

MC: Prove it.

Solomon: What?

MC: I dare you to make a pact with Asmo without manipulating him into it.

Solomon: While we're here???

MC: YES

Solomon: I suppose that wouldn't interfere with the timeline TOO much...just as long as I still have my seventy-two pacts when we return, it shouldn't really matter what order they occur in.

MC: I'm being serious, Solomon.

Solomon: I know. You didn't exactly consent to all your pacts, so I can only imagine how Asmo might have felt when he sobered up and realized what he'd done.

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr

[maximoffcarter]

Is it over? - Part 2.

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x reader.

Summary: Second part of Is it over?. After Emily's death, it was hard for the team, and specially for y/n to cope. As they try to find Declan, more things come to light, and an unexpected person makes their return.

A/n: Second paaaart! I was seriously thinking if I'd do a second part or not to this, but I am happy with the results. I knew that posting this story would come with you beautiful people asking for a part 2 cause why would we want more angst for our beautiful Emily, right? So here it is😌 I hope you guys enjoy this, if you got any requests for Emily, send them my way😌 Leave comments, hearts, whatever you’d like and reblog so this gets some love🫶🏻

Part 1.

*not my gif*

Seven months. It had been exactly seven months since Emily had passed away, and there was not a day where y/n didn’t think about her or missed her. Hotch had offered a whole month of vacation, so she could take her time to process things and to be able to clear her mind, but she had only taken two weeks, and in those two weeks, she had gone with Garcia and Morgan to clean Emily’s apartment and take everything back to her apartment. Y/n had tried her best to remain calm and show everyone that she was okay, but deep inside she knew the struggle she had. It wasn’t every single day that they spent the night at each other’s apartments, at times, it happened that they were able to spend the night together, other times they were away and sometimes they were not lucky enough to end up in the same room together, but in all of these months, y/n had a hard time sleeping to the point where she had to take sleeping pills to be able to help herself.

Hotch had made the call for her to see a therapist, Hotch had already talked to everyone in the team by Strauss’ orders, and when Hotch mentioned seeing a professional, y/n didn’t argue back, she just agreed. She knew she needed it, she knew she needed someone to talk to, the team had seen enough of her weakness, and she wanted everyone to think that she was okay, and she had started to move on. Y/n had made Hotch promise that it would stay between them that she had gone to a professional, and he had agreed, which y/n had noticed that he had only agreed because he knew that this whole thing with Emily had been a hard thing for her, but well, she would accept it as long as he wasn’t on her back every day, she’d accept anything. Spencer had been the one who had spent most of his time with y/n and JJ, even y/n had gone with Spencer to JJ’s house, and to be honest, Henry was one of the reasons y/n kept smiling too, they had become so close that y/n couldn’t help but want to be there every single day.

It was no lie that she had her bad and good days, more bad than good, but she wouldn’t admit that. At times she didn’t even know if she should be truthful to her therapist and just pretend like she was having a good day just so she could discharge her and things could slowly go back to normal, but she also couldn’t deny that talking to someone about this whole thing helped her more than anything. But today specially, it had been a really bad day. After getting back from a case, y/n found herself going back to her apartment, it was early in the morning, perfect timing to take a shower and go to bed to sleep all day. But as she got out of the shower, she got a notification on her phone, a reminder that today, they had planned a trip. She had planned a trip with Emily for her birthday. And she was now gone. Her birthday was tomorrow.

Her eyes got teary as she remembered the joy in Emily’s voice as y/n mentioned a trip with her for her birthday. They were supposed to go on a trip too for her birthday, but she had spent all day at JJ’s house with the rest of the team. And today, she was supposed to go on that trip with Emily, and by tomorrow, they’d already be at their destination, just having a day for them. She threw her phone on the bed and started sobbing uncontrollably, feeling her chest tightening as she dropped to the floor. Why did this happen? Why it had to be Emily? Why couldn’t she get there sooner? All the questions returned to her mind as she sobbed, wrapping her arms around her legs, holding them closer to her chest. She didn’t know how long she stayed there, but next thing she knew, she felt arms wrapping around her, startling her for a moment before she heard the soothing voice against her ear.

“You’re okay, I’m here.” JJ whispered softly as she held y/n tighter.

Y/n sobbed quietly as she turned in JJ’s arms and buried her face in the crook of her neck. “JJ…” she whispered softly as small sobs left her lips.

“I got you.” JJ said in a whisper as she kissed her head.

They stayed like that for a while, until at some point y/n started shivering noticing that she was still in just a towel and her hair was still dripping. Y/n sniffled as she pulled away slowly from JJ, looking up at her. “I should uh…I should get dressed.” She chuckled softly.

JJ nodded softly as she offered a smile, helping y/n stand up from the floor. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Coffee?”

Y/n nodded softly as she smiled. “You can look around, I’ll be out soon.”

JJ nodded again as she walked out of the room. Y/n sighed softly as she went ahead to get ready. JJ had been the only person who had seen y/n break like this. She had been the one checking on her daily, not leaving her side. Not that the rest of the team didn’t check on her, it had also been really hard for Spencer to process, so he had also spent most of his time with y/n. Y/n sighed softly as she finished brushing her hair and walked out of her room to meet JJ, who had already put some waffles in the toaster and was now doing some bacon. Y/n smiled softly as she sat on one of the stools as she looked at JJ.

“Why would you come here when we just got back from a case?” Y/n smiled.

JJ chuckled as she turned to put the bacon on a plate and shrugged. “Henry is at my mom’s, Will left for work before I even got home. Thought you could use some company.” She smiled as she looked at y/n. “And I also kind of needed it.” She went to grab the coffee, placing it in front of y/n.

Y/n tilted her head. “It’s been 7 months, JJ.”

“And I found you sobbing on the floor.” JJ raised her brow as she went for the waffles.

“It’s a bad day, you know I have those.”

“And I’m here for the bad days too. You don’t have to hide from me like you hide from the others.” JJ walked around the kitchen island and placed a plate in front of y/n, sitting down next to her.

Y/n sighed as she looked at the food in front of her. “Tomorrow is her birthday, you know?”

JJ nodded. “I know. Spencer wants to buy a cake for him and for Emily.”

Y/n shook her head. “I cannot imagine how hard this is for Spencer.” She said softly as she picked up her mug.

“Just as hard as it is for you.” JJ smiled softly as she placed her hand on y/n’s free hand. “We’ll go together. The whole team already signed up for it.” She grinned a little.

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded. “Of course they did. What would I do without you guys?” She grinned as she turned to look at JJ. “Thank you. Seriously. You don’t have to do all of this, and yet, you’re the one who’s always here with me and for me. And I will always be thankful.”

“It’s nothing really. I love you, and I’ll always be here.” JJ smiled as she leaned in to kiss her head. “Now, let’s eat so we take a much needed nap, I’m exhausted. And yes, I plan on spending my day here with you.” She grinned softly.

Y/n chuckled softly as she nodded, rolling her eyes playfully. “Alright.”

********************

“So…” Y/n closed the door of Morgan’s office behind her and looked at both Morgan and Garcia. “What do you know so far?”

Morgan and Garcia stared at each other for a moment before Garcia looked back at y/n. “Uh…about what?”

Y/n tilted her head as she raised her brow. “Maybe the rest of the team wanna pretend that you guys are not doing anything, but I know you two.” She sighed. “So…you’re looking for Declan, aren’t you?”

Morgan sighed as he dropped the file he had in his hand and nodded. “We found him.”

Y/n’s heart stopped for a moment as she stared at Morgan. “Is he…is he okay?”

Morgan nodded as he offered a smile. “Emily made sure he was okay and had a good life. He’s in a good school, living with the person he grew up with.”

“But?”

Morgan sighed. “We know that’s not gonna last forever. Doyle could find him sooner or later.”

“So now the mission is to find him?”

Morgan nodded. “Yes.”

“And you’ll let me help you.”

“Y/n…” Garcia said softly.

“I will help.” Y/n snapped as she stared at them. “Yes, I wanna kill Doyle. If I see him I…” she nibbled on her lip as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what I’d do if I see him face to face. But all I know…is that I want Declan to be safe. Emily worked hard to keep him safe.”

Morgan nodded. “Okay. But you gotta keep up with us, no games, Carter.”

Y/n grinned softly. “You got it, boss.”

Y/n knew maybe this wasn’t the greatest idea, she knew she has been thinking about this too much but never got the guts to do anything about it, and now that Morgan was a step ahead of her, she wanted to do this right. Not only was she at risk of losing her job if something went wrong, but she also didn’t know what she’d be capable of if she had Ian Doyle right in front of her. But so it went like that for around two months. Between Morgan and y/n, they’d go to Declan’s school to check on him and make sure he was safe. At times, y/n sat there in her car and stared at him, getting to see a bit of the kid he was and smiled at the thought of Emily doing anything and everything for him to be safe. That was Emily. That’s what she always admired from Emily, the dedication and empathy she had for the victims.

And then one day, it brought the memory of a conversation she had with Emily on a random rainy day at Emily’s apartment. They had been watching a movie, cuddling on the couch when all of a sudden, the power went off and they were left in the darkness. They both gathered all the candles that Emily had, and they stay cuddling on the couch, engaging in random conversations to keep each other busy.

“You know what JJ said?” Emily smiled softly as she ran her fingers through y/n’s hair. “She said that she saw me with kids…and the thought crossed my mind for a moment but…” she shrugged. “I don’t think so.” She chuckled.

Y/n sat up and sat down in front of Emily, smiling softly. “Why not?”

Emily’s brows furrowed slightly as she stared at her. “What? You…” she tilted her head. “…you’d consider it?”

“Kids?” Y/n smiled. “With you?” She shrugged. “Yes.” She nodded softly. “I mean…I’ve always liked kids and…I always imagined myself with kids. But the job…it just didn’t fit at the time.”

“But you’re willing to try?” Emily raised her brow curiously, waiting for her answer.

Y/n stared at her and smiled softly as she nodded. “JJ is right. I see you with kids and…” she shrugged. “I’d be lying to say that I haven’t thought about it.” She scrunched her nose and shook her head. “Too soon, right?”

Emily chuckled softly as she moved closer to y/n, placing her hands on y/n’s hips and pulling her into her lap, making y/n wrap her legs and arms around Emily’s waist and neck. “No…not too soon. Cause I’ve thought about it too.” She smiled softly.

Y/n’s smile widened as she leaned in and kissed Emily’s nose softly. “A little Emily wouldn’t be too bad…” She grinned.

“What if it’s a boy?” Emily raised her brow as she grinned. “Carter is a good name.”

Y/n furrowed her brows. “That’s my last name.”

“We could change it.” Emily bit her lip as she tried to hide her smirk.

Y/n’s heart stopped for a second as she stared at Emily, a silly smile appearing on her face. “Are you already proposing to me, Prentiss?”

Emily shrugged. “Just a thought.” She smiled. “Y/n Prentiss…sounds perfect to me.”

Y/n tilted her head and chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her lips softly. “It does.”

Y/n’s eyes filled with tears at the memory, but she pushed it away as she leaned back in her seat and noticed recess was done so he was going back inside. And so it went on like that for a while. But then everything changed when they figured out that Doyle was back and he knew where Declan was, which made things more complicated now in a way. It seemed like this whole thing was not really over yet.

********************

“Y/n, Morgan is going to take care of it.” JJ said as she followed y/n.

Y/n shook her head. “He already tried, and he said nothing. I’ll go in there and get it out of him.” She said while she rapidly walked to the interrogation room.

JJ sighed and grabbed y/n by the arm, stopping her. “Hey!” She looked into her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe this is not a good idea.”

Y/n scoffed. “Why? Because he killed the love of my life so all of you think that I’ll kill him? I know better than to do that, Jennifer. Our priority is finding Declan, whatever happens to Doyle, is the least important thing on my list.” She snapped as she went back to walking.

Y/n knew JJ was right, it wasn’t a good idea for y/n to go in there with Doyle, but they needed to find Declan sooner or later, and it was hard to believe that he really didn’t know where he was when they perfectly knew that they had seen him already, so no…she didn’t buy it. She walked into the interrogation room, her blood boiling as he stared back at her.

“Agent.” Doyle nodded his head as he stared at her.

Y/n took a deep breath as she stood leaning on the door, her arms crossed. “Where is he, Doyle?”

Doyle shrugged. “I already told the other agent. I have no idea.”

Y/n scoffed. “And you think I’ll buy it? We have footage of you driving by the house where he was staying. Try again.”

“I don’t know.” Doyle simply said. He then smiled. “You right. I did find him, after you guys did. I should’ve thought harder.” He chuckled darkly. “Our beautiful girl liked cul-de-sacs. I should’ve bought her one when I could.”

Y/n felt a shiver run down her spine as he spoke, wanting nothing more than to walk to him and beat him up, but she stopped herself. “Where. Is Declan.”

“I know you’re trying to scare me. This is your strategy and-“

“I couldn’t care less what happens to you. It is known that not only us were looking for you, and I have no doubt that there is at least someone who would love to have your head. So don’t test me.” Y/n snapped. “I only care about finding Declan.”

Doyle tried to hide his worry with a huff of a laugh, staring right at y/n’s eyes. “Ah. You the girl she went to visit the day before. The person she was protecting the most.” He grinned. “She meant more than just a simple coworker, right?”

Y/n’s breathing became heavy at the mention, trying to stay as calm as possible. “We’re not here to talk about me…or Emily. We’re here to talk about Declan.”

“Did you get enough of her? Or did I took her way too soon?” Doyle smirked. “Because let me tell you that…even if she was not who she said she was…she was really good in bed.” He laughed.

Before y/n could think twice of what she was going to do, she was by Doyle’s side and soon enough, she punched him right in the face. But before she could do anything else, Morgan had walked into the room and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her out of the room as y/n yelled at Doyle to go to hell. Y/n tried for Morgan to let go of her, but Morgan kept his grip tight until they were in the hallway, JJ following them and leaving Rossi and Strauss behind.

“Let go of me!” Y/n pushed Morgan away and turned to look at them. “Didn’t you hear what he said?!”

“Which is why I told you it was a bad idea, y/n.” JJ said softly, not trying to pick up a fight with her.

Y/n ran her hand through her hair as she tried to calm down. She shook her head as she felt tears in her eyes. “He knew…he…” she sighed as she nibbled on her lip.

Spencer walked to them and placed his hands on y/n’s shoulder. “Let’s go get some air.” He said softly as y/n turned to look at him.

Y/n looked back at Morgan and JJ. “I’m sorry.” She said softly before she followed Spencer to the rooftop. Once they got there, y/n shook her head as she looked at the sky for a moment, her hand finding her necklace. “I knew I’d lose it.”

Spencer looked at her and nodded. “But you still went inside.”

“I don’t know why.” Y/n sighed. “I do want to find Declan. I know Emily cared for him.”

“But you also want revenge for Emily.” Spencer simply said as he nodded, shrugging. “I get it.”

Y/n looked at Spencer and smiled softly. “Cases like this gets the worse of us, huh?”

Spencer nodded as he offered a small smile. “Apparently.”

Y/n raised her brow as she grinned playfully. “You’re not gonna make a smart comment? Quote? Story?”

Spencer huffed a chuckle as he shook his head. “I just thought we could use some fresh air.” He looked at y/n and smiled. “And that you needed a friend.”

Y/n smiled softly as she walked to him and leaned her head on his shoulder as she looked back at the sky. “You’re always right, Reid.” She said softly.

They stayed there for another twenty minutes or so, until they both got a text from JJ saying they were needed for a meeting. Y/n furrowed her brows and looked at Spencer but said nothing as they returned inside. Once they got there, y/n stared at Garcia with a confused look, no one really knew what was happening, which confused her even more. When Morgan walked in with JJ and Rossi, y/n knew that something was definitely not right, but she tried to stay as calm as possible as she crossed her arms. Finally Hotch walked in the room and told everyone to sit down, making y/n turn to look at JJ for a moment as she stood beside him, but she stayed where she was along with Morgan.

“Seven months ago I made a decision that affected this team.” Hotch said calmly, staring at all of them. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her.”

Y/n felt her heart drop as she stared at Hotch. “W-What?”

Hotch sighed softly as he looked down at the table. “She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know.”

Y/n felt dizzy at his words, gripping the back of the chair in front of her. “You…you’re saying…”

Garcia stared at Hotch with tears in her eyes, her voice weak as she spoke. “She’s alive?”

“But we buried her.” Spencer simply said. Everyone had confused looks at this point.

“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision.” Hotch said as he stared at me. “If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan snapped.

Y/n didn’t know where her eyes had started to water, her whole body trembling as she tried to process everything. She looked at JJ and suddenly everything made sense. “You knew.” She said almost in a whisper.

JJ swallowed as she stared at y/n. “Y/n-“

“You knew.” Y/n shook her head. “You…” she scoffed as she tried to avoid the tears to leave her eyes. She looked at Hotch and shook her head again. “How could you?”

“Oh, my God.” Garcia whispered softly.

Y/n furrowed her brows and turned to the door, her heart dropping as Emily stood there. Emily stared at everyone in the room until her eyes landed on y/n, a faint smile on her face, tears forming in her eyes. Garcia and Spencer were the first ones to stand up and walk to Emily to hug her. Y/n stared at Morgan for a moment and then her eyes went back to Emily. Her hand unconsciously went to her necklace as tears rolled down her face. She heard Emily’s voice, but it was like she was stuck in a dream, one of those dreams she’s had in the last seven months where Emily comes back and apologizes for leaving, and in the dream, she’s the happiest person, hugging her and kissing her and begging her to not leave again. But this was reality. She was here. They finally gave space for Emily to walk to Morgan and y/n, Morgan hugging her, a confused look on his face. And then there she was; right in front of y/n.

Emily had tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at y/n. “My love…” she whispered softly. “I am…so sorry.”

Y/n stared at her, tears rolling down her eyes. She shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes studying Emily, her face, her body, just all of her. “You’re alive.” She finally whispered.

Emily smiled sadly as she nodded. “Yes.” She whispered softly as she stepped closer, placing her hands on y/n’s cheeks, stroking them softly. “I’m here.”

Y/n felt like her chest was going to explode as she felt her touch. She tried her best not to pass out right there as she stared at her. But instead of what she did in her dreams, she took her hands and took them away, letting them go. She cleared her throat as she turned to look at Hotch.

“Do you need me?” Y/n simply asked, her voice lower than she expected.

Hotch stared at her and understood what she was asking. He shook his head. “No. In case we need you, we’ll call you.”

Y/n nodded softly before she walked away. Emily sobbed quietly as she tried to follow after her, but Rossi stopped her. “We need to find Declan right now.”

JJ looked at Hotch. “I’ll go.” She said quietly as she went after y/n. She tried to catch her before she walked to the elevator, grabbing her by the arm carefully. “Hey-“

“You knew!” Y/n turned to look at her, tears rolling down her cheeks as she sobbed. “All this time…you fucking knew, and you didn’t say a thing.”

“You heard Hotch. It was for her safety, y/n. I would’ve told you if I had authorization, but-“

“Bullshit!” Y/n snapped as she sobbed, her bottom lip trembling. “You were there, JJ…you saw how I s-suffered.” Her voice broke as she spoke. “You saw me at my lowest and you didn’t think that it was a good idea to tell me the truth? She has been alive this whole time, I have been mourning her…I-“ she sobbed uncontrollably.

JJ tried to hold back her tears as she stepped closer to y/n. “Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Y/n shook her head. “Right.” She simply said before she entered the elevator and pressed the buttons to close the doors.

********************

“So…how angry is the team?” Emily asked as she walked with JJ.

JJ sighed. “They’re in shock.”

Emily stopped JJ and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry if y/n is upset at you.”

JJ shrugged as she smiled. “We knew it would happen. She’s just…she’s overwhelmed. Confused even.” She shook her head. “She had it bad for a long time, Emily.”

Emily’s heart broke as she heard JJ, nodding her head softly. She cleared her throat as she tried to swallow back her tears. “You think…you think that she’ll…want to talk to me?”

JJ smiled sadly. “I don’t know. At least, not right now. I don’t think she wants anyone from the team.”

Emilly nodded, smiling sadly. “Thank you…for keeping your promise.”

JJ smiled. “It is really good to see you.” She chuckled softly as she wrapped her arm around her waist as they walked back to the team.

Emily knew this would happen. All of these months that she had been away, she kept thinking of the day where she’d finally be able to come back and find y/n again. Of course she hadn’t expected y/n to wait for her, she didn’t even know how long it would take until she could come back to the states, and if she was being honest, it had happened way before than she thought. For a moment, she wished and begged that things would be okay, of course they wouldn’t be perfect, but at least that they would understand why she did this. And in all honesty, they had taken that decision for her, not giving her the chance to even tell the close people in her life that she was alive. Yes, she had been upset, she had been mad about it, but there was nothing she could do in this case, so for a long time, she had to play another role. Every single day, every single night, y/n was in her mind, wishing she could just reach out to her and tell her everything, even if it meant that she’d be in trouble for it, and that had been her greatest mistake. And now…he didn’t even know if y/n wanted to see her or talk to her.

********************

Emily took a deep breath as she stood in front of y/n’s door. It was past midnight, and she was sure that this was a mistake, and she was supposed to be staying at a hotel but all that had been in her mind, had been y/n. It had been such an eventful day, very overwhelming, and she wished she could just walk in and hold y/n in her arms. She took another deep breath before she knocked on the door softly, nibbling on her bottom lip as she waited, hoping that y/n would open the door. She looked back and hoped that the neighbors wouldn’t wake up for the knocking or ask why she was here so late. She closed her eyes for a moment, thinking that maybe y/n wouldn’t come to the door, thinking that it was anyone from the team, or even knowing that it was Emily, and she wouldn’t want to open the door and-

Y/n opened the door and felt her heart dropping as she stared at Emily. “Emily…” she whispered softly, her eyes on Emily’s.

Emily smiled a little. “Hi.” She whispered as she stared back into her eyes. “I uh…I’m sorry. I know it’s late and-“

“You just finished with the case.” Y/n nodded. “Morgan kept me updated.”

Emily nodded as she sighed. “Oh…well. Then you know what happened.”

Y/n nodded. “Are you okay?”

Emily nodded again as she smiled a little. “Declan is okay, which is…all that mattered.”

Y/n smiled a little. “I’m glad.” She said softly. She then looked around the hallway and knew perfectly that Emily was not just here to tell her that, so she decided to swallow back her feelings and let her in. “Come on.”

Emily’s heart warmed as she smiled, walking into the apartment. She looked around as she walked through the small hallway, noticing that nothing had changed. She then heard a meow, making her turn to the floor and her smile widened. “Serge!” She chuckled as she picked him up. “You kept him.” She looked at y/n as she walked to her.

Y/n smiled softly as she leaned over the wall. “P and I share custody.” She shrugged. “Since sometimes I need to leave, Penelope takes care of him. I decided to pick him up today.” She looked at Emily.

Emily sighed softly and kissed his head before putting him down and looking back at y/n, licking her lips nervously. “So…I don’t…there is so much to say.”

Y/n nodded as she crossed her arms. “There is.” She whispered softly as she looked down at the floor. “I…get why you did what you did.”

“But you’re still upset.” Emily said softly as she stared at her.

Y/n looked up at Emily and shook her head. “I’m not upset. At least…” she looked down at her hands as she cleared her throat. “…at least not anymore.”

Emily nodded. She didn’t say anything for a moment, taking in y/n’s appearance and feeling her heart sinking as she noticed the redness on her face and the puffy eyes. And then her face softened as she noticed the necklace. “You still using it.” She smiled softly.

Y/n looked up at Emily and then at the necklace. She chuckled softly as she grabbed it, smiling softly. “I never take it off.” She said softly as she looked back up at Emily. “You gave it to me…it was…one of the only things I had to hold on to you.”

Emily felt her eyes getting teary as she looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m so sorry, y/n…” she whispered softly, her voice cracking slightly. “I never…if I had had the chance…I’d have told you.”

“You called.”

Emily looked up at y/n, her lips parting slightly. “I…yes.”

Y/n nodded as she smiled sadly. “The first time the phone didn’t register the call and it said unknown. And the other times…I noticed the number and I didn’t recognize the code.” She huffed a chuckle. “I asked Penelope, and she told me it was from Paris. I told her to ignore it and drop it.”

Emily nodded. “You blocked it.”

“No one ever answered anyway.” Y/n shrugged as she smiled.

Emily smiled. “I wanted to.”

“I bet.” Y/n nodded as she just stared at Emily.

Emily tilted her head as she nibbled on her bottom lip. “I made JJ promise that she’d take care of you. That’s why she was with you this whole time. And I know that…you’re…”

“Hurt.” Y/n interrupted her, feeling her eyes getting teary again. “I’m hurt that…this whole time…she was the one who saw me at my lowest. She was here when I was sobbing and holding your clothes, looking at your pictures. I went to her house, and we stayed in her room as I sobbed because something reminded me of you. She went with me to your…grave…whenever I wanted to go.” I shrugged as tears rolled down my eyes. “And the thing is…that I understand. I understand all of it and I dreamt so many times of you showing up at my door, telling me you were sorry but that you were back. And I’d hug you, and you’d hold me close, and I’d kiss you…and it would feel so real.” She sobbed softly. “And I wanted to do that when I first saw you. I���m…I don’t know how to feel, Emily. I am so confused. I don’t even know if I’m mad at you. God, I was so upset when I found out about everything. But I was so worried. And I was upset that you were gone.” She shook her head as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking down at the floor.

Emily took a deep shaky breath as she walked to her, raising her hands to touch her but then backing away, not sure if it was the right move. “I wanted to tell you everything. I swear I wanted to. But if I had…you would’ve been more at risk. I couldn’t let him know about you. I couldn’t…I couldn’t let him get to you.” She felt tears running down her cheeks as she stared at y/n. “I wanted to protect you. I wanted to protect the team.”

“You could’ve actually died, Emily!” Y/n snapped as she looked up at her. “I saw you bleeding! You were dying and I couldn’t even hold you because I was scared if I moved you, you’d bleed out! You…” she sobbed as her voice cracked.

And then she tried to push Emily, but Emily placed her hands on her shoulders, and then she started hitting her chest, not hard enough to hurt her and not for long. Emily wrapped her arms around her and held her close to her, cradling her to her chest. Y/n sobbed uncontrollably, gripping Emily’s jacket as she buried her face on her chest. Emily couldn’t help the tears that rolled down her cheeks, sobbing quietly as she kissed y/n’s head softly, her hand gently stroking her head, her fingers running through the strands in a soothing motion. They stayed like that for what felt like forever, neither of them saying a thing. Y/n closed her eyes as she heard Emily’s heartbeat, helping her calm down.

“I missed you…” Y/n whispered softly, small sobs leaving her lips.

Emily kissed her head again, her lips lingering there for a moment. “I missed you too. So much.” She sighed softly as she closed her eyes. “I missed you terribly. I am so sorry, baby. I am deeply sorry.”

Y/n sniffled as she wrapped her arms around Emily, nuzzling her face in the crook of her neck. “At least you got the vacation Rossi told you about.” She mumbled softly, a faint chuckle leaving her lips.

Emily chuckled softly, tears still rolling down her cheeks. Her smile then fainted slowly as she thought about it. “But you were not there.”

“We can always fix that.” Y/n said softly, pulling away enough to look up at Emily.

Emily looked at her, her face softening as she smiled, her face falling to her cheek to stroke it softly. “You…you forgive me?”

Y/n smiled softly. “There is so much we need to talk about…but Em…I cannot lose you again. I can’t.” Her voice cracked as she spoke the last words, looking right into those beautiful brown eyes that she missed.

“You’re not gonna lose me. I’m here to stay. I’m not going anywhere.” Emily smiled softly as she looked into her eyes.

Y/n smiled softly as she nodded. “I’ll find you if you ever leave again. Garcia and I won’t let you get away.” She grinned playfully.

Emily tilted her head, chuckling softly. “I don’t ever want to go. I’m here to stay.” She smiled softly, her eyes darting down to her lips for a split second before they returned to her eyes.

Y/n bit her lip softly as she smiled. “Do it.”

Emily furrowed her brows. “What?”

Y/n smiled softly before she leaned in and pressed her lips gently against Emily’s, a soft and yet firm kiss being placed on her lips. Emily smiled against her lips before she kissed her back, her stroking her cheek softly as y/n’s hands were placed on her back, pulling her close against her body. The kiss was gentle, sweet, it wasn’t rushed or hungry. It was like they just needed to feel each other’s lips, slowly dancing against each other’s, and that was it. As they pulled away, Emily couldn’t help the goody smile spread on her lips, a soft chuckle falling from her lips as she leaned her forehead against y/n’s.

“Yeah…I wanted to do that but didn’t know if it was the right thing to do.” Emily chuckled softly.

Y/n smiled, pecking her lips softly. “Like I said…I’ve wanted to do it since I first saw you.” She then tilted her head and raised her brow. “Unless…you have someone waiting on you in Paris.”

Emily laughed softly and shook her head. “You know I…” she scoffed. “All these months, I was scared that maybe you’d decide to move on and…once I was back…you would be happy with someone else.” She stared into her eyes. “I wouldn’t have blamed you, though.”

Y/n smiled softly, rolling her eyes playfully. “I, instead, spent all these months ugly crying on your favorite hoodie and then was upset because it didn’t smell like you anymore.” She grinned playfully.

“Oh, poor baby.” Emily said as she laughed. She leaned down again and kissed her lips softly. “I know there is so much we need to talk about but…do you think I could stay with you tonight?”

Y/n raised her brow playfully. “Is it too soon to talk about you moving in with me?”

Emily’s eyes light up at her words, her smile widening. “Not soon at all.” She giggled and leaned down to kiss her lips again.

For the next two hours or so, they both talked about everything that had happened while Emily was gone. Emily mentioned some of the things she did back in Paris, and then what was a serious conversation at first turned into a comfortable and sweet conversation, making up for lost time. Y/n knew deep down, she was still somehow hurt and maybe a little upset, but the fact that she had Emily back, that all of those dreams she’s had came true, made her realize that even if she still had a mess of feelings, she was happy to have her back, and this time she wouldn’t let her go so easily. Before they knew it, they were wrapped around each other’s arms and fast asleep, and for the first time in months, both of them had the best sleep.

********************

After being suspended for the events with Ian Doyle, y/n and Emily took a much needed time for themselves, ignoring phones and any technology, just spending their time with each other. They decided it was best if they looked for another place, start over, and so they made it their mission to find the perfect place for them. When they got called to court, both were nervous about the teams reactions, knowing that they were still shocked and a bit upset about Emily, and y/n hadn’t actually talked much to them. As Emily went in, y/n talked to Spencer for a while, until she saw JJ walking to them, offering a small smile as she approached y/n. Spencer noticed the hint and walked away, joining Rossi and Morgan.

JJ smiled softly as she stood in front of y/n. “I thought I wouldn’t get to see you today.”

Y/n shrugged. “I heard they’ll get us all inside at some point. So, you would’ve seen me inside.” She smiled softly. “JJ…”

“I’m sorry.” JJ said rapidly. “Emily and I wanted to tell you. I begged them to let me tell you, But they-“

“JJ, I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. I know why you did what you did, and I forgive you. I’m sorry I just snapped and didn’t let you talk.” Y/n titled her head as she smiled. “You were there for me, and you never left my side. Emily told me all about it.”

JJ smiled. “So I take it you guys are okay?”

“More than okay.” Y/n smiled softly. ‘We’re looking for a new place.”

JJ clapped softly as she chuckled. “I’m so happy you guys are okay. I’m so happy for you.”

Y/n chuckled softly as she wrapped her arms around JJ, hugging her tightly. A few hours more passed before they were back in the BAU, everyone waiting to hear from Strauss if they were free to go or if they were in more trouble. But then, Strauss broke the news that they were okay, and that Emily had to do with it, and to their surprise, Emily was offered back her job, which didn’t take her long to accept. Even if Emily knew that it would still take the team some time to adjust to her again and to forgive her for what had happened, Emily was willing to do anything to gain their trust back, and she was just happy to be able to be reunited with her family again.

Y/n closed the door behind her and walked to the living room where Emily was not sitting with Sergio beside her. She chuckled softly as she leaned over the couch. “He missed you.”

Emily looked up at her and smiled. “Guess he did.” She raised her brow playfully and patted her lap.

Y/n chuckled softly as she made her way to Emily, sitting on her lap with her legs on either side of Emily and wrapping her arms around her neck. “Hi.”

Emily chuckled as she looked up at her, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Hey there.” She smiled.

“So tomorrow we have an appointment at two. We got enough time to have a lazy morning.” Y/n grinned softly as she leaned down to kiss her nose softly and then kiss her cheeks.

Emily chuckled and nodded. “Perfect.” She leaned in and kissed her softly, smiling against her lips. “You know I love you, right?” Y/n raised her brow at her words, making Emily laugh. “I am going to say it more often, so get used to it.”

Y/n chuckled as she leaned down to kiss her lips. “I love you more. Thank you for coming back to me.”

Emily smiled and nodded. “Always, my love.” She kissed her lips again, pulling her closer to her, not leaving any space between them.

After months of insufferable pain, late nights, long days, etc., Emily could finally say that this was over. She was back to the place where she belonged, she was back with the love of her life and there was nothing else she could ask for. It was finally over.

[atinylittlepain]

Atlantic City

no outbreak!joel miller x fem!reader

Hungry Hearts masterlist

wordcount | 6.2K

warnings | smut, angst, the usual

a/n | hey y'all, we have reached the penultimate chapter. we're in for a little angst, but i promise i make it better with a whole lot of goodness. as always, i'd love to hear what you think, drop me a line, i'd love to chat. also, if i could offer a song specifically for the young joel sequences, it would be Downbound Train by Springsteen (who else?) alright, that's all.

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gif by @santigarcia

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“She had a little oatmeal and a little applesauce, I think more of it got on her bib than it did in her mouth, though.” Tiny hands gripping at his shirt, he winces at the first sign of her impending meltdown, that small whimper of hers that always seems to come out in the mornings like this. 

“Alright, Joey, that’s okay, I’ve got her.” Except she doesn’t, not yet, because Sarah is still clinging to him, tears starting to heat and dampen the side of his neck where her face is pressed as Deedee tries to coax her out of his arms. He’d like to cry too. 

“I have class until seven, but I gotta run to the store too to get more formula. Shouldn’t be later than eight, ma.” It’s near herculean to finally untangle Sarah from him, a particularly loud cry striking through his ears as Deedee finally manages to scoop her into her arms. He’s learned that he can’t loiter, can’t look at her too much like this, because then that slick curl of guilt will take root and furl up his throat. So it’s a quick goodbye, a kiss to the crown of Sarah’s head and a lowly murmured love you, babygirl before he thanks his mother, who acts offended that he even tried to thank her in the first place. 

He can still hear Sarah crying when he gets back in his truck. Deep breath, just one to smooth out the shake in his hands. And then his day can begin. The same day he has been doing for the last five months. They’re building new apartments off the highway toward Austin. Good work, honest work, at least that’s what people say when he tells them what he’s doing these days. He’s not sure where they get the good or honest from. Mostly, it’s sweaty and sore and simple. But it is good money, and lord knows that’s exactly what he needs right now. 

She, no name, he’s been practicing no name for her, making the fact of her disappear from his life so it won’t be a problem when Sarah gets older, so just she. She left when Sarah was three months old. Not a word, not a note. Fine by him, because while they were certainly a mistake, Sarah isn’t, at all, not to him. So he’s working, making money, and in the evenings, chasing after a degree that promises something better for the both of them. 

Traffic is stupid this early in the morning, crawling lights along the highway in the dusk still burning itself off with the hazy sunrise. He sighs, slumping back. He can sigh and slump now, no one watching, small relief as he rolls toward the job site. Another sigh when he sees that cars are even more jammed up because of an accident on the shoulder of the highway. He’s not one for the radio these days, much more interested in saving up slices of silences in between all the crying and sighing, though he still starts to flicker through radio channels, nothing better to do anyways. 

“With us this morning, an up and coming author whose first novel has garnered a great deal of attention this year.” His hand stills, spine straightening out when the radio show host says her name. Her real name. And then it’s her, thanking the host for having her with an easy laugh. 

The last time he heard her voice, he was standing in the front office of Thatcher’s with a phone to his ear and a hand held over his mouth to silence the quick sobs shaking his body as she spoke, as she apologized, as she said goodbye. The same and different. So very different. His ears rush with it, mind in a thick fog as the host says something about best selling, and new project, and some award that he hasn’t heard of before. And Cherry takes it all in stride.

She did it. She really did it. He can’t help the broken laugh that flutters up his throat, a quick burst of it that feels good only because it’s been so long since he’s had something like that, felt something like that. But it’s a quick radio segment, and she’s already thanking the host again, and they’re already taking a break for some commercial. Gone again. Sigh, slump. 

Good for her, he thinks. Proud of her, he thinks. Did the right thing for her, he thinks. 

And finally, traffic starts to crawl again, just another day. 

…

“Yeah, uh-huh, I’ll have it ready to be sent by Friday. Look, I told you already that I’m not going to rush this one, okay? The first draft needs a little more time, just to Friday.” Often, when she takes phone calls in her office, she imagines what it would feel like to pick up her computer and smash it through her window. It’s a helpful thought exercise, keeps her from cursing out her agent at times like this.

“Alright, and– no, I saw the concepts you sent me and absolutely not. I don’t know how you can already be sending me cover art when you haven’t even read the fucking thing yet. I don’t care what kind of rush you’re in, I’m not going to accommodate it because, quite frankly, it’s fucking ridiculous.” Well, at the very least, she tries not to curse out her agent. 

“Friday, no earlier and no later. And please, do not call me before then, because if I’m talking to you, then I’m not working, and if I’m not working, this fucking thing is going to take even longer. Okay? Great, thanks so much, bye.” Click, sigh. She has also imagined chucking her cell phone through the window, but that is a much less satisfying vision, so she settles for shoving it away in the bottom drawer of her desk. 

“Mom?” She’s quick to stretch out of her slump at the sound of Ellie’s voice, swiveling around in her chair as she smooths out her scowl .

“What’s up, babe?” 

“Is it cool if I go to the mall with Dina?” Dina, the center outfielder, right. 

“Oh, yeah, do you want me to drop you off? I can–”

“No, that’s okay. Dina’s mom is gonna pick me up and take us.” Guilt starts to flicker between her ribs. This happens whenever she’s entrenched in writing. She blinks, and can’t seem to figure out where the time has gone or when the last time was that she and Ellie spent real time together. And though Ellie rails against it with a dejected groan, she can’t help but get up and pull her into a quick hug. Missed you, sorry. Love you, sorry. Ellie squirms a little, but still squeezes her back. 

“Well, be safe, okay? And call me if you need anything.” 

“Yeah, okay, I will.” Normally, this would be when Ellie bounds away before Cherry can get an I love you in edgewise, but instead, she stays standing in front of her, a small pinch between her brows. 

“Are you, um, like– okay?” Cherry sighs. This again. This new thing again. Something that Ellie has started to do at the most unexpected times. Something that started after that day at the ballfields when their car got stuck in the mud and she and Joel shared some choice words. 

“Els, what’s this about you asking me if I’m okay, huh?” She tries to say it light, with a small laugh, but really, her stomach is starting to sicken, because this is supposed to be her job, mom job, and clearly, she’s failing at it. 

“I don’t know, I just– how come Tommy is the one working on the porch now?” 

“Uh, well, I mean– Tommy and Joel are business partners, so they, you know, share jobs with each other.” It comes out stilted and stuttered, and she has to stop herself from wincing at the lameness of the excuse. For her part, Ellie doesn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer, brow still scrunched and mouth screwed up like she tasted something funny.

“But why isn’t Joel working on it, like, at all?” That all holds a lot more meaning than it should, and Cherry can’t help the sigh that slackens through her chest. 

“I know what you’re getting at, and you have to understand that, well– we– Joel and I– there’s a lot of history there, Els. And it’s– well, it’s very complicated.” 

“Do you think you guys are gonna work it out though?” It surprises her, if she didn’t know any better, she’d say that there’s a hopeful tilt to Ellie’s question and raised brows.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want you worrying about that, okay? Whether we do or not, I’m gonna be just fine, so long as I have you.” Mom brain, she can’t help herself, stealing another hug that Ellie rails against with a mom that sounds like she’s being accosted it’s so despondent. 

Saved by the bell, or the car horn more like it, Ellie wrangling herself out of their hug with a quick bye, love you as she bounds through the house toward the front door. Sigh, slump, Cherry shuffles back over to her desk, steading her palm on the edge of it as she brings her other hand up to pinch the bridge of her nose.

The thing is, she is pretty sure that they’re not going to work this out. And that’s what she wanted, isn’t it? She’s not sure anymore. She’s not sure about a lot of things. For starters, why she really decided it was a good idea to move back here. Yes, New York was becoming no good. But then, forty-odd other states she could have chosen from. And no, too late to back out now, because Ellie has already made friends, somehow already managed to settle before school has even started. And there’s the house, and now this fucking porch.

“Hey, Cher?” Speaking of which, snapping herself back out of her slump.

“Hi, Tom, how’s it going out there?” The first time she saw him again, she was shocked by just how much Tommy Miller grew up and filled out. Joel mentioned something about him serving in the military, and it shows, she thinks. A little more serious, a little presence in the set of his shoulders. A far cry from the brash, bold, bumbling boy she remembers. The passage of time, and all that. 

“Just got done with the finish, actually, if you wanna come take a look?”

“Oh really? Like, it’s finished finished?” It is, and it’s frustratingly perfect. Wood polished and still glossy, plenty of space for a table and chairs. She should be happy, or at the very least satisfied, so she isn’t sure why all she feels is a petty curl of anger rising like bile up the back of her throat. 

“Wow, yeah, it looks– looks really good, Tommy, thank you. Is it alright if I pay you now? I just need to get my checkbook.” She’s already walking back toward her office, but Tommy doesn’t follow, rubbing at the back of his neck with a weak laugh.

“The thing about that, Cher, is that I’m under very strict, very aggressive orders to not take any money from you.” That anger flares at his words, a scoff in her throat as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“Oh, is that right? And just which hardass are these orders coming from, if you don’t mind me asking.”

“I think you’re, uh, pretty familiar with said hardass.” 

“Uh-huh, right, I suppose I am.” She’s not going to let Joel win this one, turning on her heel to continue her warpath toward her checkbook, Tommy having no choice but to tentatively follow after.

“Cherry, seriously, I can’t. He’s gonna rip that check up the instant he gets his damn hands on it.” She doesn’t listen, dashing off her signature on the six thousand dollar check, though when she tries to hand it to Tommy, he tucks his hands deep into his jeans pockets, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. 

“Tommy, I don’t know what kind of stupid game your brother is playing, but I refuse to participate. You did a job for me, and did it perfectly, and now I’m going to pay you. I don’t– I can’t have this hanging over my head, alright? Just take it, please.” She hates the warble that please comes out on, a thick flush of tears starting to thicken in her throat.

“It wouldn’t be hanging over your head, Cher. You know he ain’t like that.” 

“Oh, do I? Because, honestly, I’m not sure what I know about him anymore.” Silence falls, a flash of something passing over Tommy’s face that she can’t place. He clears his throat before he speaks again, and when he does, it’s shockingly quiet.

“I still remember the day you left and didn’t come back, you know. And no offense, but it’s not because we were particularly close or anything.”

“Gee, thanks, Tom. I’m not sure what that has to do with anything though.” She regrets the sharpness of her words instantly, Tommy letting out a long sigh as he shuffles his feet in the doorway to her office. 

“I remember because Joel came home that night. And back then, you’d be hard pressed to get him home unless it was Sunday and ma was ready to drag him by his ears over for dinner. But it was a Tuesday, and he came home that night, and he cried.” There’s no stopping the tears now, not when Tommy’s voice breaks, covering it up with a clipped laugh and a swipe of his knuckles under his nose. 

“I don’t think I had ever seen him cry that hard. Jesus, he couldn’t breathe, and it– it just wouldn’t stop. At the time I was kinda pissed, to be honest, because he wouldn’t shut up, just wailing like a little kid.” All she can do to sit down in her desk chair, taking a shaky breath as Tommy toes his boot into the floor, trying to hide the crumple of his brow on his downturned face.

“And he kept saying the same thing over and over again, like he was trying to convince someone, maybe himself, I don’t know. He kept saying I did the right thing.” Her whole body shudders, sniffling back snot as her vision swims. She doesn’t know what all Joel has told Tommy, whether he knows just exactly what happened that summer. But the way that he’s looking at her now, frown slipping heavy down his face, earnest, honest, she thinks that he knows enough, has seen and heard enough to be giving her nothing but the truth.

“Not that I’d admit this to him, but I love my brother, really, I do. But, Cher, he can be a fucking idiot about stuff like this. And I know that he doesn’t deserve another chance for the shit he’s pulled, but I just– you gotta understand how much love he has for you.” What could she possibly say to that? For a moment, it’s quiet, both of them taking stuttered inhales and exhales, trying to breathe in the fact of what was just said. 

“Tom, where is Joel working today?”

…

“You have to read this book. I’m about halfway finished with it and it’s so good.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t think I’ve heard of that author before.”

“That’s because it’s her first book, I think. But seriously, she’s totally a genius.” 

“Hmm, I’ll have to check it out then.” 

He keeps his smile hidden behind his palm, elbow propped on his desk as he listens in to the conversation between the two students in the row ahead of him. It’s her book, he caught a glimpse of her name on the spine of it. It both buoys and batters him, a strange feeling settling in his stomach as his evening class begins. 

Something his boss recommended to him. A degree at the community college that will supposedly open up all these doors for him. At least that’s what he tells himself when he slogs over to the campus after work every night. Another year to go and then, and then. Something good, he hopes. For him and for Sarah.

The same thing every day. Get up at five, if there’s sleep to be gotten up from in the first place. Get Sarah sorted and driven over to his parents’ house and then get to work by seven. Work and work and work, a good seven or eight hours before he has to book it to class. Then class, something he never enjoyed, and especially doesn’t care for now, working hard at it only for the sake of getting out of it sooner. 

Last week, Deedee had tried setting him up on a date with the daughter of one of the women she plays Euchre with every Wednesday. She even offered to take Sarah for the night, a smile so steeped in hope that it had made him feel a little sick. He had sighed and made a half-hearted joke, something about a date getting him here in the first place. A distraction getting him here in the first place. 

Night is creeping in by the time he gets out of class, streets going dark save for the syrupy glow of house windows, of families sitting down for dinner. And he’s never late, always at his parents’ house when he says he will be, so just this once, just a little late. He goes to the store a little further away because he knows there’s a bookstore a block down from it, lucky that it’s still open this late. 

And everything gets saved that doesn’t have to be spent, so just this once, something for him. They have her book on display in the front of the store. Exactly what he was hoping for, her picture on the back of the dust jacket. The same and different, all grown up. 

He buys himself a copy, but he doesn’t open it, not yet, keeping it in his lap the entire drive back. 

…

Maybe a little crazy, driving her minivan through an active jobsite, men stopping in their work to tilt their hard-hatted heads at her when she parks in the midst of gravel and sawdust right in front of the half-built house. But she’s too hell-bent on the task at hand to care much, marching right up to the nearest man and asking him where Joel Miller is. 

“Sorry, ma’am, who are you again?” 

“Who am I? Who am I? I’m someone important, buddy, that’s who I am. Now if you don’t tell me where he is, I’ll just start wandering all over this place and probably land you with an OSHA violation. So if I were you, I’d make this easier for both of us and just take me to him, thanks.” She can hear a murmur of snickers and yips from the other men working around them, and it seems like enough to get this guy moving with a muttered okay then. 

She acquiesces to putting a hard hat on, something about an actual OSHA violation, before following the man into the bare bones of the house. Some walls are put up, and some are still only frames, saws whirring and nails guns firing all around her, a perfect swirl of work and the smell of cedar that she tries to skirt around as the man leads her further into the fray. 

When she sees him, she thinks to herself that it’s not fair, the way he looks with a tool belt slung low around his hips, his t-shirt clinging to the shifting planes of muscle in his back as he leans over a workbench to look at a scroll of blueprints. No, not fair at all, her throat going dry with just how not fair at all it is. 

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” Boss, right, he’s the boss. Fan-fucking-tastic. Joel’s head whips around, immediate confusion scrunching up his face when he sees her. 

“Cherry? What– what’re you doing here?”

“What?” It’s nearly impossible to hear him over the incessant sound of work going on around them, though Joel is quick to usher her away from the thick of things and into a half-finished room that she guesses could either turn into a bathroom or a closet judging by its size. It’s a bit ridiculous that Joel closes the door to the room given that one of the walls still hasn’t been put up. 

“Why– how did you find me here?” She’s just a little annoyed at how inconvenienced he’s acting, his hand on his hip and his knee jutted out as he raises his brows at her. It’s enough to get her angry all over again.

“Tommy finished the porch today and refused to take my check, so I asked him where I could find you and tuck this fucking money into your hands myself.” She punctuates her words by taking the folded-up check out of her pocket and shoving it into his chest, but Joel doesn’t accept it, the slip of paper falling to the ground when she pulls her hand away. What he does next is far more infuriating though, not breaking eye contact with her as he bends down and swipes up the check between two fingers before promptly ripping the thing up far more times than it needs to be.

“Don’t try to write me another one, Cher, I’ll just do the same thing.” A bitter laugh slips up her throat, and before she knows what she’s doing, the heel of her palm is shoving into his chest. Except he’s bigger now, broader, so what once would have made him stumble now only makes him sway a little. All the more reason to do it again.

“You– fucking– ass– Joel Miller!” He’s still unmoving under her ministrations, each of her words coming with an admittedly weaker shove until finally, Joel says her name, a quiet plea. And she wasn’t supposed to cry, that’s what she told herself on the drive over here. Under no circumstances was she going to cry. Yeah, right, big blubbering streaks running down her face already. Her hands fall limp at her sides as she shakes with it, whatever it is. Easier to call it anger, but she knows that’s not what it is. 

“Cherry, please don’t cry.” She wants him to reach for her, wants to feel his palms smoothing that shudder, and for a moment, it looks like he will, but his hands just hang suspended between them, like he has thought better of it. She wishes he hadn’t thought better of it. 

“I can’t– I can’t do this. You make this so hard, Joel, do you know that?” His face falls, feet shuffling closer until the toes of his boots are brushing against her sneakers. 

“What can’t you do?” 

“This– this– I want to be with you so badly, but I just can’t.” She hates what a relief it is when he finally reaches for her, his palm resting along her jaw, the calloused pad of his thumb collecting stray salt. 

“Why can’t you? I– I’ve been wanting you for a long time, Cher. We could do it, I know we could.”

“I’ve heard that before, Joel. And it didn’t end well.” She can’t look at him as she says it, her stomach sinking with the words. Because it’s true, after all. He sighs, a long, dejected sound that makes her tear up all over again.

“Will you look at me, please?” She doesn’t want to, and isn’t sure if she can right now, but he shows her how, his knuckles crooking under her chin, a soft please that she folds to, finally meeting his eyes with hers.

“I can’t change what I did in the past, Cherry. And it kills me that I hurt you, but I was trying to do right by you. I don’t know anymore if I did, and I don’t know anymore if it even matters. But what I do know is I never stopped loving you. And if you’ll have me, I’ll be yours until the day I die, and probably then some, to be honest.” A laugh at that, thick with snot, feeling good in the midst of all these tears. She curls her fingers around his wrist where his hand is still cupped along her cheek, a tug to come closer so she can rest her forehead against his, though there’s a small shuffle first, both of them pushing their hard-hats off, paying no mind to the clatter of them when her nose brushes along the line of his. 

“Don’t make me a promise you can’t keep.” She says it quiet, almost reluctant, but Joel just smiles.

“Not a promise, just the truth. Reckon I’ve been yours my whole life. And I’ve been hoping you’ll be mine too.” Something blooms inside her, relief in opening up, in allowing even amidst that still-there grip of fear. Because he’s here, and so is she, and there’s plenty of time to prove that fear wrong, to get it right, now, here, in the present. 

She doesn’t answer with words, just closes the space still between them, the easiest yes in the way her lips press against his.

…

He knows he needs to go in. Needs to gather up Sarah and get back to their shoebox apartment so the whole routine can start over tomorrow morning. But quick, he can be quick, sitting in his truck with only the faint slant of clarity from the streetlight to brighten the pages. He steals the first chapter just like that, quiet, mouth moving with every word. And it’s a peculiar feeling, like pride, though he knows he has know business letting that swell in his chest with the way things ended between them. It’s good, of course it’s good. Not that he’s some well-seasoned reader, but he knows good when he sees it, and she was always so good, he thinks. 

He’s only twenty minutes late when he finally knocks on his parents’ front door, and though Deedee makes nothing of it, he still feels that guilt sickening and skittering up his spine, trying to tamp it down with kisses pressed into Sarah’s curls. 

By the time he gets them home, Sarah is indignant, fussy coos humming in her chest, ready for a bottle that he still has to make. Muscle memory, auto-pilot, he heats it up with her in one arm and the book held in his other hand, plowing through half of chapter two before he finally has to set it down to feed his girl. His girl, his perfect girl. He has enjoyed doing this from the very start, one of the things he always felt he could get right, at the very least. Simple and sweet, all the motions of bedtime, a small mercy that she goes down easy tonight because he’s still thinking about the book he left splayed open on the kitchen counter. He doesn’t sit down, just simply leans over the counter to keep reading under the light above the stove. 

Sarah begins to cry about an hour and a half later, and by then he has already finished half of the book, careful to mark his place before checking on his girl. His hands still shake sometimes with the reality of holding her, something so small and careful that he has to roll his shoulders back a few times after every diaper change, every close cradle, like his whole body braces for her, trying to be big and enough for her. And he should get some sleep now, he knows that. But he reasons to himself that he’ll be waking up in an hour or two anyways for her, so, might as well. 

Just like that, for the rest of the night, back and forth between Sarah and his close huddle over the kitchen counter. By the time morning is starting to blush that pale blue through the curtains, he has read the whole thing. 

And no, not his place, and no, he has no right, but he is proud of her. Proud that she got out, proud that she did it. And relief too, that maybe he did the right thing after all, even though it hurt so very much.

…

Maybe a little crazy, the both of them. She’s pretty sure she heard a few wolf whistles when she led Joel out of the house and back to her car, but she doesn’t care, and she doesn’t think he does either judging by the way he keeps rubbing his palms down the front of his jeans in the passenger seat, both of them sweeping their eyes over the half-finished lots of this new neighborhood, searching for the same thing.

“Wait, right there.”

“Right where, Joel? There aren’t any–” She doesn’t finish that thought, a gasp high in her throat cutting it off when Joel reaches across for the wheel and veers her car right off the street and into an empty lot. The only reason she doesn’t press the brake is because she’s too stunned to move, letting the car roll into a thick copse of trees. She’s only snapped out of her stupor when Joel huffs out a right here, stop, stop, Cher, bringing the car to a stuttering halt. It’s all she can do to laugh as she looks around at the perfectly secluded spot.

“You always did have a talent for finding places like this.” He grins crooked at her, still leaning over the console with his hand on the wheel.

“Yeah, well, you– just c’mere.” Not pretty, not at all. A little greedy and a little desperate, her elbow beeping the horn as she scrambles over the console, Joel groaning when her knee lands a little too close to his crotch before she finally settles in his lap. He holds her by the hinge of her jaw, opening her mouth with his and taking everything she has to give. And in turn, she seeks out more however she can get it, one hand in his hair tugging when his teeth nick her bottom lip, her other hand bunched into a fist in his t-shirt. And it should be good, except it’s all so scrunched up in the passenger seat, and her legs are bent at such an angle that when she tries to grind her hips down onto his, she ends up with a mortifying cramp in her hamstring. 

“Oh fuck.”

“I know, Cher, me too.”

“No, I mean, my– my leg is– I need to get up, it’s–” Joel finally seems to get the hint when she lets out a hiss of pain, quick to open the passenger side door so she can hobble down off his lap, tenderly trying to stretch out her leg in a graceless hop. Luckily, it seems to sort itself out, though Joel still gets out of the car, making her heart do something strange when he holds onto her hip with one hand as he rubs out the muscle in her leg with his other palm, squinting up at her and murmuring a question, that better?

“Y-yeah, thank you. We could– the backseats go all the way down.” He’s a sight, eyes big and blown out, lips parted in a swollen little pant as he looks at her. 

“Right, let’s– let’s do that then.” She makes quick work of cranking open the sliding door of the minivan and folding the backseats down, plenty of room to assure that there won’t be anymore cramping crises. When she turns around to usher him into the back, Joel is quick to stamp a hard kiss to her mouth, a breathless laugh punching out of her lungs when he pulls away.

“Sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, Cher.” 

“Well, if you liked that, just wait until I put the seats back in place.” His smile splits, all boyish in the way his eyes crinkle up. And it’s all graceless fumbling from there, both of them crawling into the back, leaving the door cracked to let in the late summer breeze, though she can already feel sweat sticking her shirt to her back. Not that it matters though, not when they’re both making quick work of each other’s clothes. 

Her want wills, and he answers in kind, letting her press him back, bare for her, heart beating for her as she settles between his legs, already taking him into her mouth, salt and sense, all him making her hum low in her chest. 

“Jesus, look at you– so fucking pretty like this, Cher.” He’s one to talk, she thinks, chest flushed to blaze all the way up to his cheeks, his eyes heavy and hooded looking down at her as she laps at his leaking tip before taking as much of him as she can into the heat of her mouth. Though he doesn’t let her work him over for long, a petulant hand curling around the nape of her neck and a breathy baby, baby, c’mere coaxing her up, both of them sighing when the swollen ache of her cunt grazes along his length. 

“Like this– I want it like this, Joel.” Her lips drag the word up the arc of his throat, sealing them with her lips slanting over his.

“It’s all yours, Cherry. I’m all yours.” They move together like they never stopped in the first place, all quiet communication in the press of their foreheads, eyes turned down to watch as she sinks down onto his throbbing cock, a high sound stopping itself in the back of her throat as her hips settle against his. For a moment, just this, the tight peaks of her nipples grazing his chest with each broken breath, palms smoothing along skin only to grab greedy handfuls where they can. And then the quiet murmur, good? Yes, so good. Moving with so good simpering up and down her spine, a moan breaking in her chest with the first pass of her hips against his. 

He lets her find the rhythm first, his mouth hot and open against the side of her breast, all coaxing, all consuming with the way his hands grip at her ass. Everything turns hazy and humid in their close press in the back of her car, skin slick and sticking, chests fluttering with hard pants. 

Not so young anymore, either of them, getting a little ahead of their own pleasure because she can already feel it snaring and snapping in her pelvis, that liquid languor that turns taut so fast. And of course Joel can tell, bringing his hand to curl around her hip so he can drag messy circles against her clit, mouth open and pleading against hers. 

“That’s it, Cherry, take it for me. Fuck, I wanna feel it, just like that.” Her breath catches in her throat, that searing snap that slackens everything else, his name on her next exhale as everything melts down around her. Just him, and the close grind of his hips up into hers that’s snarling on the edge of too much, cracked whimpers with each thrust that she bites back, wanting his pleasure just as much as she wants her own. 

“Baby, baby, so good like this. Want it so bad, want you so bad.” Her lips slide against the shell of his ear, crooking into a grin when he groans at her words, his grip on her tensing and tightening as he comes, warmth spreading and sating. 

All tangled up, their bodies slacken and slump, splayed out in the back of her car as they both catch their breath. Joel’s head tilts up when she huffs out a laugh, breath fanning over his chest where her chin is resting.

“I don’t think that was the smartest way we could’ve started this new relationship thing.” 

“I think we’re pretty far past new relationship, Cher.” She hums at that, no real argument, settling instead for a kiss pressed into the bare patch in his scruff. 

“You know, Ellie asked about you.” Joel’s eyebrows shoot up at that.

“Seriously? Thought that kid hated me.”

“Mm, I think you won her over with the diarrhea joke.” 

“Well it certainly worked on you.” 

“Unfortunately.” He huffs at her dig, laying a mean squeeze to the crease where her ass meets her thigh. 

“Unfortunately, none of that, Cherry baby.” Ease, all ease in their shared smile, settling back down around each other with a sigh. They’ll have to untangle soon, leave soon, back to reality soon. But for now, this time with him, all the time to say what she wants to say to him.

“I never stopped, you know. I think that’s why I came back, at least partly. I was hoping that you hadn’t stopped either.” Her cheek rises and falls with his breath, Joel trailing his finger along her jaw to coax her eyes back up to his.

“I didn’t, Cher. Even when I didn’t wanna admit it to myself, I was waiting for you, hoping for you too.”

................................

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[mlmxreader]

Little Bit Lost Without You | Crowley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Crowley

Character Lives/Doesn't Die (eg Arthur Morgan)

"Now give them back, boys" ❞

: ̗̀➛ Crowley's return may just be the best thing that's ever happened to you, if you're being honest.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ temporary death, grief, reunions, swearing

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Crowley was more than disappointed when, just two weeks after he had sacrificed himself, he was brought back; but it wasn't the fact that he was back that had disappointed him - it was the fact that you were nowhere to be seen at all.

His heart felt like it had dropped, his mouth and throat becoming sticky and thick and clogged, and his hands began to shake the more he realised that you weren't just absent from the room but the entire fucking building.

Nowhere at all, and he had no idea of how to reach you; his phone had been destroyed, and he had no cash to grab a telephone box for a moment - there was no way he could fucking reach you at all.

Yet that was all he wanted, to know that you were alright. Whatever humanity was left, deep down and locked and hidden away, almost completely buried, was starting to take over him.

Crowley cared about you, more than he ever cared about anyone else before; you were supposed to become his spouse, he had promised that he would pick out whatever rings you wanted and he would ask you on the same day when you did.

You weren't like him - jeans and a t-shirt and a quick signing of a religious contract would have been enough. No big and fancy ceremony except for the culture. Nothing else.

And now he had failed you so fucking miserably.

For days, Crowley had no idea how to find you - even spells wouldn't work thanks to your line of employment. Hunters tended not to be easily traced by anything supernatural, and even the now-ex King of Hell was completely at a loss over it.

There was nothing that could be done, and for days, he toiled and planned and failed again and again and again. Surely, you had to know that he was alive, or at least held some hope that he would be. Anything, really. Just anything.

But you weren't far at all, as Sam and Dean had only just managed to get you to the nearest hotel; you wouldn't go any further, and spent days and days trying to find any possible way of contacting Crowley or even tracing him to know that he was alive.

But he was the King of Hell, and he wasn't easily traced, and even though you employed every bit of knowledge that you had at your disposal, you were completely at a loss over it. You had no idea what to do... except maybe to go back.

Of course, you only snuck out when Sam and Dean weren't around; with them on a case, you managed to find where the rip was, and it was only a short walk before you found the small building nearby, exactly where Crowley had sacrificed himself in... in that other, horrid, place.

Sweat on your brow and under your arms, you were struggling to breathe as you called out his name; your throat stinging in protest and hot, wet coughs bubbling in your mouth as you began to sob. Searching tirelessly, until you ran into something that felt rather like another person.

But the hands were cool and cold, and didn't shake the way that yours did; slowly, arms wrapped around you, a soft and shaky breath drawn from relieved lungs as you were brought close to the body.

"Thank fuck."

You smiled at the sound of his familiar voice, wrapping your arms around him tightly and pressing your face to the side of his neck; able to feel a slight scratch from his beard as you sobbed against him for a moment, hardly able to believe it for yourself until you were gently pushed away.

Cold thumbs wiping away your tears before your head was angled down, a soft kiss planted just above your brow; slowly, you were brought to look into those big brown eyes.

"Well, hello, love," Crowley said quietly, still holding your face. "I thought I'd never find you."

You shook your head, tugging on his blazer as you frowned, lip quivering and vision blurring. "You made it..."

"Don't ask me, I'm not sure," he admitted with a curt shake of his head. "Just... I am glad I found you."

"I found you," you pointed out quietly, voice shaking. "I thought I'd never..."

Crowley shushed you softly, one hand slipping to the back of your neck so he could feel you against him again; your breaths, although ragged and panting, made him close his eyes as he sighed heavily.

"It's a good thing, too," he told you. "I can't imagine having to tell the Winchesters: now, give them back, boys or we'll have more problems."

You couldn't help it, laughing softly as you clung onto him, shaking your head and trying not to laugh at how scruffy he was. "You need a shave..."

"Later," he murmured. "Later, I promise, my love."

You nodded, not wanting to argue - even if it was only teasing. You just wanted to remind yourself that he was back, he hadn't left you forever and he never would; you were alright, he was alright. You were both alive.

"Come back to my motel with me," you muttered against his skin. "It's walkable..."

Crowley shook his head. "I'm not walking. We'll go in a minute, don't worry."

You nodded, sniffling and letting the guilt wash over you. "I got snot on you... I'm really sorry..."

"I'll clean it," he told you. "Don't worry."

He was never like that with anyone else, but then, you really were different to everybody else - you didn't try to change him, never betrayed him, never even got yourself involved with the Winchesters until Crowley did. You were the only one he could actually trust, you were the only one he could actually open up to, and he wasn't going to give up on that in the slightest.

Never.

"I'm glad you're back," you whispered hoarsely. "I didn't wanna go on without you... I was a little bit lost without you..."

"I know the feeling," he murmured. "I was a bloody big mess."

if you made it to the end of this fic and you enjoyed it, then please, if you have any cash to spare, even if it's just a few pounds, please consider giving them to help Tahini save her family.

[owl-falls-au-gravity-falls]

I sometimes can’t help but to compare Eda’s and Lilith’s relationship to Stan’s and Ford’s. Cause obviously looking at, Eda’s and Lilith’s relationship is way healthier than Stan’s and Ford’s

Even when Lilith was still in the Empire’s coven, their sibling dynamic was still quite strong.

Which makes me wonder if they could possibly sort of help Stan and Ford build back their relationship.

Eda obviously helping out Stan, and Lilith helping out Ford.

I just want to know what you think?

Eda and Lilith's relationship is much healthier than Stan and Ford's | la relación de Eda y Lilith es mucho más saludable que la de Stan y Ford.

IN ENGLISH

It's a good observation, as in reality, it seems that all four have almost the same story in comparison, although there are many differences.

Stan "risked" Ford's future, leading to a conflict in which Stan ended up being the most harmed, while Ford put distance between them even after he was able to try to find out if Stan was okay...

Eda also "risked" Lilith's future, but it was Lilith who did something that directly affected Eda, causing her to be hated by many people and isolate herself from the world...

I don't like to blame Ford for his actions, although sometimes I also feel that he acted like an idiot in the original story because of ego and pride, but Lilith would have actively tried to help Eda heal

Lilith did look for Eda, she spoke to her, although they fought, Lilith only sought her well-being

Ford didn't bother looking for Stan until he needed something from him, and we already know how that ended.

In theory, the relationships between both pairs of siblings are complicated, but Eda and Lilith managed to fix their relationship.

Lillith y Ford

Lilith would see in Ford everything she hated about her past self, his arrogance and ego made person, But I would also understand what it was like to always be by the side of someone who made it impossible to be separated from Eda.

Of course, she blames herself for causing so much harm to Eda, but Ford would never openly admit his guilt, unless you will hear how Lilith cursed her younger sister to have the path to success free...

Ford would be lying if he said he never thought about doing something like that, after all, having the pressure of being the smart brother, Added to the fact that Stan was smarter in other areas, he made Ford sabotage him a couple of times, ¿Who would have thought that those little sabotages he did to Stanley would come back to ruin his big chance? Karma certainly exists.

Lilith confronts Ford and makes him see that he had the opportunity to look for Stan and help him, she throws in his face the story of Stan living in his car for 10 years, which makes Ford finally understand that in a way he was to blame, he could have helped Stan, just like Lilith, but he let his ego keep him away from his brother...

Thanks to Lillith, Ford begins to understand things better, and takes the step that was needed to ask for forgiveness.

Eda and Stan

Eda would be overprotective of Stan, after all, she found Stan in a cave, shivering from the cold, sobbing and hugging his twin brother's diary tightly.

Eda sees in Stan the reflection of her younger self, she sees someone small who still needs protection, that's why she gives him the special potion that keeps him young, she doesn't like being called old, but she likes to feel that she is wiser than Stan, at least that she is a good older sister

Of course she wants Stan and Ford to reconcile, but Eda isn't exactly happy about having to be around someone like Ford., I'd really rather Stan punch him in the face than forgive him.

EN ESPAÑOL

Es una buena observación, ya que en realidad, parece que los cuatro tienen casi la misma historia en comparación, aunque hay muchas diferencias

Stan "arriesgo" el futuro de Ford, lo que llevo a un conflicto en el que Stan terminó siendo el más perjudicado, mientras Ford ponía la distancia entre ellos incluso después cuando pudo intentar saber si Stan estaba bien

Eda también "arriesgó" el futuro de Lilith, pero fue Lilith la que hizo algo que afectó directamente a Eda, haciendo que ella fuera odiada por muchas personas y se aislara del mundo

no me gusta culpar a Ford por sus acciones, aunque a veces también siento que actuaba como un idiota en la historia original por el ego y su orgullo, pero Lilith habría intentado activamente ayudar a Eda a curarse

Lilith si busco a Eda, hablo con ella, aunque pelearon, Lilith solo buscaba su bienestar

Ford no se molesto en buscar a Stan hasta que necesito algo de el, y ya sabemos cómo terminó eso

En teoría, las relaciones de ambos pares de hermanos son complicadas, pero Eda y Lilith lograron arreglar su relación

Lillith y Ford

Lilith vería en Ford todo lo que odiaba de su yo del pasado, su arrogancia y ego hecho persona, pero también entendería lo que es estar siempre al lado de alguien que hacia que fuera imposible estar separada de Eda

Por supuesto, ella se culpa por causarle tanto daño a Eda, pero Ford nunca admitiría abiertamente su culpa, a menos que escuchará como Lilith maldijo a su hermana menor para tener el camino al éxito libre...

Ford mentiría si dijera que nunca pensó en hacer algo asi, después de todo, tener la presión de ser el hermano inteligente, sumado a que Stan era mas inteligente en otros ámbitos, hizo que Ford lo sabotee un par de veces, ¿Quien diría que esos pequeños sabotajes que le hizo a stanley volverían por el para arruinar su gran oportunidad? Ciertamente el karma existe

Lilith confronta a Ford y le hace ver que el tuvo la oportunidad de buscar a Stan y ayudarlo, le echa en la cara la historia de Stan viviendo en su auto durante 10 años, lo que hace que Ford finalmente entienda que en cierto modo el tuvo la culpa, pudo ayudar a Stan, al igual que Lilith, pero el dejo que su ego lo alejara de su hermano...

Gracias a Lillith, Ford empieza a entender mejor las cosas, da ese paso que hacia falta dar para pedir perdón

Eda y Stan

Eda sería sobreprotectora con Stan, después de todo, encontró a Stan en una cueva, temblando de frío, sollozando y abrazando con fuerzas el diario de su hermano gemelo

Eda ve en Stan el reflejo de su yo más joven, ve a alguien pequeño que aún necesita protección, por eso le da el brebaje especial que lo mantiene joven, no le gusta que la llamen vieja, pero le gusta sentir que es más sabia que Stan, al menos que es una buena hermana mayor

Claro que quiere que Stan y Ford se reconcilien, pero Eda no está muy feliz que digamos de tener que estar cerca de alguien como Ford, realmente preferiría que Stan lo golpee en la cara antes de que lo perdone

[muraseclinic]

This is the dumbest post I will ever make online. Anon on to keep my last shred of dignity. Hope the post doesn't break.

All of your pretty words have been plaguing my fucking mind recently. Been thinking a lot about the type of shit you say. I'm normally a sadist dom, but your posts slip me into a stupid fucking masochistic stupor. I've read at least every word about a dozen times over. It's pretty fucked up how desperate I am about all this. I doubt you even care, but I don't think I want you to.

I picture the scene pretty vividly, you telling me exactly what steps puppy has to follow. Maybe I fight back, helplessly trying to turn the tables, but it doesn't work. It'll never work against you. You'll only mindfuck me harder. Telling me I don't know what I want, telling me to get over it. How I don't deserve to be in control. Slipping me further and further into absolute submission, I won't be able to resist anymore.

You'll tell me to cut my veins open, let it all bleed out, and I'll obey. 'Cause it's what you want. My desires don't matter. It's all about pleasing you. The knife'll sink deep into my flesh, carving deep grooves, brilliant shades of red rising to the surface. The blood scent in the air is fucking pungent. You'll laugh, almost angelic but truthfully cruel. You'll stomp down on my wrist, the blood spurting out of the cuts onto your boot, maybe you'll even fracture the bone. You'll tell me to clean up my mess. I'll stick my tongue out like the whores in pornos do, idiot and crass, and I'll lick up my own gore off the vamp of your boot without a second thought. That copper taste so familiar, it's all I'll know beyond this point.

We'll go for hours, days even. I'll be a fuckin' drugged up cut up mess, sobbing and broken, and you'll be laughing through it all. You'll get bored eventually, I know you will, and then you'll give me one last command. You'll tell me those lovely parting words, tell me to kill myself for you, it's the final act to our fucked up scene. And I'll do it. A kicked puppy only wants to please its ruthless master. I'll make it slow, just so you can take in my gargled cries like an alluringly haunting symphony of pain. Choking on my own blood, fucking filthy.

Then what comes after? That's for you to decide. Not me, of course.

fuck anon .ᐟ ,, you’ve really outdone yourself this time haven’t you (ㅅ´ ˘ `) i gotta say, i'm flattered that my “pretty words” have been rattling around that head of yours . . .

now, for that very very nice scene you mentioned . .

i'd peel away that last shred of dignity, leaving you a broken mess at my feet. it’d take some effort, considering you have the same knack for violence and defiance as an untrained mutt, but we’d eventually get there wouldn’t we .ᐣ i'd savor every agonized gasp, every gurgled cry as you choke on your own blood. it'd be one of the most beautiful, and most disgusting things i’ve ever seen, and it’d be all for me . . .

i’d enjoy the moment, might even record you killing yourself just to add it to my personal collection. but, once the deed has been done, and you're lying there in a pool of your own blood .ᐣ well, my interest tends to wane pretty damn quick. ᓚᘏᗢ i dunno - i've got better things to do than babysit a corpse. . .

but just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t be useful, now does it .ᐣ you’ve got a little more left to give until i get sick of you. . .

i’m sure i’d find something, anything, to make it so that even in death you weren’t a waste of time. cut into you with zero-surgical precision, rough and uneven, take out whatever interests me or whatever i think might taste good (๑⃙⃘´༥`๑⃙⃘) maybe i won’t be able to hold back, might not be able to wait til’ everything is clean, cut and organized. might start tearing into you right then and there, making more of a mess of things. you won’t mind, right .ᐣ for the rest of you, i’ll find ways to utilize every last scrap. maybe i’ll tan your skin, craft it into a wallet or a glove . . might take a picture of your body n’ hang it somewhere. your corpse, once i’ve gotten everything i can out of if, will probably be left behind some dingy motel or in an alleyway.

if i’m feeling nice, i might even send it home to where your family is as a surprise. they can burden themselves with it now ᥫ᭡

[oneofstarkskids]

i lost you

part 2

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

genre: angst

previously- part 1

the thin paper in your hand felt heavier than a boulder. it weighed on your heart and had you struggling to keep it together.

carefully, you sat it aside and took the next one out of the box. the paper was cracked in some places and had turned a shade darker over the years, but it still held the same value to you.

doll,

i've kissed a lot of girls, but they never made me feel the way that you do. your lips are sweet. i don't know how to describe it exactly, but i think it's cherry. and when you hold me, i feel a little bit stronger. if you were the only woman i could ever kiss again, i'd die a happy man.

truly,

james

you couldn't stop the sob that choked you. you squeezed your eyes closed, picturing that first kiss. it was projected in your mind like at a drive in theatre. coney island. summer breeze. vanilla ice cream. every detail.

unforgettable.

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