#also I swear I do read in order sometimes but I'm going back to important moments to add here

[vulgayte]

I've reread this part a few times and this moment always stands out to me. I think Arthur is around 18 at this point (and it shows)

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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[silverwhittlingknife]

hi Silver! o/ because that fanart made me wonder - would you happen to know when/where Dick's stuffed elephant plush Zitka turns up in the comics?

GREETINGS CAM <3333 THAT ART WAS SO CUTE

Yeah, I think your instincts are right - it's a truly adorable bit of transformative fandom, but I'm 95% percent sure it's not comics canon. Barbara has canon plushies, but I don't think anyone else does.

I got kinda invested in the investigation (it's hard to prove a negative!) and I ended up typing out an entire History of Elinore/Zitka, so, uh, if you're curious, meet me below the cut for:

Where does Elinore / Zitka - the animal - appear in comics?

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

Where does Elinore / Zitka appear in comics?

We're gonna go in chronological order!

Dick's circus elephant friend was first created for practical reasons: in Batman 436, Marv Wolfman does a big expanded flashback to Dick's circus backstory as a way to subtly show us Tim before officially introducing him (so that we can have a technically-solvable mystery-of-Tim's-identity in LPoD). In this comic, there's an elephant named Elinore who loves Dick:

Aww. Such a cute elephant!

Batman 436 comes out in August 1989. New Titans 60 comes out a few months later, in November, and guess what? When Dick visits the circus, he is suddenly surprised by an unexpected blast from the past! It turns out that even though it's been years, Elinore still remembers him!

Here's the part where Elinore remembers Dick:

SUCH a cute elephant. I love her.

(Guess who else still remembers Dick even though it was so long ago. Guess which other character is about to be an unexpected blast from the past. Guess which character Elinore is directly paralleling guess guess guess sorry everything is about Dick and Tim in my mind but I can focus I swear)

Four years later, in 1993, Batman: The Animated Series retells Dick's origin story. They like and keep Wolfman's elephant, but they change her name to Zitka:

Wolfman doesn't return to the elephant beyond those two appearances, and a few years down the line, New Titans gets cancelled and Wolfman's not writing Dick anymore anyway. So the animal gets abandoned for a while, until Devin Grayson, a fan of both Wolfman and B:tAS, revives the Wolfman-era Titans team in JLA/Titans and then the ongoing series Titans 1999.

Grayson then brings back the elephant in a flashback to Dick's past in Titans 16 (Jun 2000), where she imports the B:tAS name. Sometimes I'm skeptical of TV-to-comics imports, but honestly, I endorse this one. You lose the alliteration, which is a shame, but IMO Zitka is a better elephant name than Elinore.

Here's Dick with the newly-christened Zitka in Titans 16:

Grayson also briefly references the elephant in Gotham Knights 20 and - in a final angsty callback - in Nightwing 88 (Feb 2004), where Zitka tries futilely to comfort Dick in the midst of his trauma conga line:

... And... honestly, I think that's it for comic appearances? The two Wolfman comics plus the three Grayson comics.

Both Wolfman and Grayson are writing multiple titles - Batman, New Titans, Titans, Gotham Knights, and Nightwing between the two of them, spanning a big chunk of Dick's post-Crisis canon - and both writers use the elephant for heartwarming moments of nostalgia, which means if you're doing a post-Crisis readthrough for Dick, Elinore/Zitka feels memorable. But I don't think she actually shows up that much.

For post-2011, I am not as well-informed - throwing this out to the dash? anyone know? - but I feel like Zitka the heartwarming symbol of Dick's heartwarming circus past is, uh, thematically very at odds with the Court of Owls evil!circus vibes, so my instinct is that this story element was almost certainly dropped in the reboot.

Did Dick ever have a stuffed elephant toy in comics?

In WFA, yes; in main comics continuity, no. Technically, I have not read every comic ever published, so I could be wrong!! But I don't think so.

Below, find my rambling reasoning on the tonal vibes of pre-Crisis, post-Crisis, and post-2011, and why this particular story element doesn't seem right to me for the first two.

Pre-Crisis (...okay, mostly the Silver Age): stuffed animal, yes or no?

tl;dr no, requires too much background knowledge on the part of the reader, plus the elephant wasn't a thing until later

Elinore doesn't get created until post-Crisis, but also just generally, pre-Crisis callbacks are more along the lines of this reference in Batman 129 (published in 1960), where, wow, Batman and Robin are hunting jewel thieves - and it turns out Robin recognized this strongman! BUT HOW?!

The comic goes on to recap Dick's entire origin story in flashback, on the assumption that you may not know it.

(BTW, if you'd like to know more about Haly's Circus throughout the years, nightwingology has a great post here summarizing a lot of fun plotlines and characters!)

Basically: Silver Age comics are very self-consciously episodic and kid-friendly; they're not generally gonna do overly-elaborate callbacks because they don't know what comics their kid readers may have randomly picked up or remember.

By the time of post-Crisis, comic books were being written for an adult audience buying from the direct market, i.e. readers who are collecting whole runs & don't need or want Dick's origin story to be recapped to us in full every time it's referenced. That's why in post-Crisis, we get stuff like "hey, neat, this particular soda brand is getting mentioned in several different books!!" or "in order to understand this story arc, buy SIXTEEN DIFFERENT COMICS in FIVE DIFFERENT RUNS and read them ALL ACCORDING TO A NUMBERED ORDER and also you better be following the individual plotlines and recognize these five minor characters who we don't bother to introduce!! Good luck!!" But the elaborate post-Crisis plotlines - and subtler worldbuilding like a stuffed animal callback to Dick's backstory - don't make a lot of story sense UNLESS you're imagining your readers as completionist adult fans.

So IMO a stuffed animal wouldn't be a pre-Crisis thing unless it was The Episodic Story Of the Week, and I don't think a stuffed animal is action-adventure-y enough for the fast-paced storytelling of the Silver Age. (Unless it, like, came to life and tried to eat you or something.)

Post-Crisis: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr: no, Dick's a manly tough guy, he's not gonna have a stuffed animal, that'd be lame, like something Tim might do

Part of the edgy grimdark adult vibes in 80s/90s comics is that some characters who used to be kinda silly & goofy & lighthearted - like Batman and Robin - get reimagined as Serious and Angsty and Edgy in a Tough Cool Manly Brooding Way. This massively affects characterization for Bruce, Dick, and Bruce and Dick's relationship.

(I obviously love this change & love the tense Bruce-and-Dick interactions, but plenty of fans of the earlier fluffy comics really disliked the edgy retcons of Miller / Wolfman / Starlin / et al.)

The upshot is that post-Crisis is a period when you could have a recurring reference like a stuffed elephant, but you wouldn't have a stuffed elephant, not for Dick. I think a toy like that would be too cutesy / childish / effeminate to give a male character in post-Crisis, unless you were poking fun at him.

Now, you could probably let Tim have a stuffed animal, because Tim is sometimes cool but also sometimes a tryhard loser who is faking being cool and not entirely pulling it off (see e.g. the Robin comic where he practices tough-guy faces in the mirror, or the Teen Titans comic where Conner discovers his cringy Enya CD, or when he's fanboying over Connor and it's awkward, etc etc.). A stuffed animal would be deeply embarrassing, and you'd have to be careful to compensate by having Tim do something cool afterward - but Tim's character concept allows for "he's kind of a loser sometimes."

But Dick isn't!! In post-Crisis, Dick's a tough / impressive / "cool guy" character, the kind of guy anyone would want to be, even in the flashbacks where he's Robin, and even in the stories where he's more lighthearted than angsty. It'd be kinda lame for Dick to have a stuffed elephant, so he wouldn't. I feel like Dick would be more likely to poke fun at it if someone had one, like when he's making fun of Wally for liking the Hardy Boys. Dick could have a Batman action figure, at most, and if he had one he would have it ironically.

Basically: in post-Crisis, a male character hugging a stuffed elephant feels more likely to be a punchline to me, not something poignant. (Even with Tim, Tim could have an embarrassing stuffed animal, but he couldn't hug it when sad - that's too far. Maybe Booster Gold might do this. Probably he wouldn't, but spiritually, he would. Sorry Booster ilu! <3)

Instead, Dick instinctively deals with his inner turmoil like the TORTURED ACTION HERO he is: by punching things and brooding and yelling and joining the mob and sleeping on rooftops and going on obsessive secret missions and acquiring Angsty Stubble!! Just like Batman!

(Technically I don't know if Bruce ever joined the mob but you know he would.)

Anyway as you know this is my favorite continuity and I am poking fun affectionately, but uh, yeah sdfsfdsfs. No stuffed animals.

Post-2011 / Infinite Frontier / Wayne Family Adventures: stuffed animals, yes or no?

tl;dr it's in WFA! Probably not anywhere else, but it could be.

Post-2011 stuff tends to be cutesier overall, most of all in the current Infinite Frontier era. So I don't feel like this would be tonally out-of-line with IF comics. Taylor tends to go for more meme-y references rather than fanfic references, though.

So the obvious best fit is WFA, which is aiming for a rough approximation of Silver Age family-friendly vibes - wholesome, episodic plots, Teaching Good Moral Lessons For The Youth, etc. - plus lots of Easter eggs for fanfic readers and some comic references.

And look, here we are:

Aww.

Whew - that's everything I could find!

Anyway as you can probably tell, I LOVE the elephant, so this was a very entertaining rabbit hole to go down, thank you <3

[gallusrostromegalus]

How do Hisagi and Kira cope with all the chaos Tousen and Gin wind up causing?

So my concept of this is based off these panels in the Manga, where Shuuhei realizes just how much work goes into running the Ninth Division:

(I love Jushiro's r u fuckin' serious? face here lol)

From the interlude between major battles in the middle of the Arrancar arc, in a cafe in seireitei:

*****

Kira sat in awkward silence as his friend and mentor bawled into his shoulder.

"EVERYTHING! I SWEAR, HE WAS DOING EV-ER-Y-THING!!" Shuuhei wailed. Five drinks in and the teetering walls of Shuuhei's stoic facade has crumbled like day-old cookies. "Managing all our contacts and sources, writing in the cultural articles as needed, keeping the presses stocked and in working order, wrangling the other captains to actually submit their reports, keeping the filing up-to-date- He was even writing the crossword every week!"

"It's uh. It's been a change for me too." Kira mumbled, awkwardly patting his shoulder. Across the table, Rangiku has assumed a facade of gentle sympathy as she waited for the storm of emotions to blow over.

"WHY?" Shuuhei demanded, sitting back up. "WHY DIDN'T HE ASK FOR HELP? The workload must have been killing him- it's killing ME and I read at least twice as fast as he ever did! Did he just... Not Sleep?"

"Well, perhaps he found the tasks he had delegated to you to be difficult for him, but the stuff you're struggling with was easy for him?" Kira tried, optimistically.

"No, that can't be it- It's almost the same work, just more of it." Shuuhei sniffled. "Did- did he not TRUST me to handle the workload? He was always a stickler for details- was- am I not good enough?"

"There's also the whole Treason thing." Rangiku pointed out, unhelpfully. "If I were plotting to overthrow the government, I'd take on extra paperwork to keep it quiet."

Shuuhei slumped over the table, contemplating the thought despondently. "...Was I not good enough to take wi-?"

"-You finish that sentence and I'll break this bottle right over your skull." Rangiku threatened. "You were TOO Good for him to make you an offer like that. If anything he knew you'd do the right thing and turn him in."

Shuuhei sniffled, unconvinced.

"How are you holding up Blondie?" Rangiku changed the conversation with the gracelessness but irrefutable power of an ox.

Kira considered her question, chewing his lip awkwardly. "I... Well I don't know how to say this delicately but, um-" he glanced down nervously at Shuuhei, who at least looked like he couldn't get MORE miserable. "-It's actually been kinda great."

Shuuhei stared up at him from the table, scandalized, and Rangiku barked a laugh loud enough to make the room ring.

"Gin was a...hands off sort of manager. He would always back up whatever we decided to do of course- Heck, he crossed swords with the old fart that runs the Fon Clan for us once, but ah... well. As annoying as him being largely absent was, he was worse when he decided to help." Kira sighed.

"THAT'S GIN!" Rangiku cackled. "I swear talking to him was like talking to someone from a different dimension sometimes- not a damn clue how anything worked."

"Yeah..." Kira smiled weakly. "We had a secret staff calendar to make sure he'd be occupied with something if we had a REALLY important project going on, which probably should have been indicative of something, now that I say it out loud."

"It's indicative of a crap manager, which is a far cry from treason, even if both should be hanging offenses." nodded Rangiku. "Speaking of management- Any idea when you lads are going to take the captain's exam?"

"What?!" Both yelped, startled.

"ME? CAPTAIN! ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Kira shrieked, laughing nervously like a Hyena.

"Nononono-" Shuuhei waved. "I'm half-dead running things as is, and Tousen left things relatively tidy- Apparently Aizen absolutely TRASHED the fifth division's filing and casework on the way out and it's bedlam over there. For all his other sins, Capt- Tousen at least finished payroll out until the middle of November." Shuuhei shrugged.

Rangiku blinked at what Shuuhei said, confused, but was distracted by the sudden arrival of more friends.

"Hi Rangiku-Chan!" Orihime waved from the door, out of breath and lightly singed from training with Rukia, who followed her in, looking equally gleefully disheveled.

"HEY GIIIIRL!" Rangiku squealed with delight, waving for Orihime to come over for a hug, and the girl practically tackled her. "Oof- How's training?"

"She can throw any Hado up to the mid-seventies right back at me now!" Rukia panted, delighted. "We're gonna start on Bakudo tomorrow, to give myself a break."

"-And Miss Rukia has been casting Hado in the 80's and a 90th level one without incantations, so I can't predict what the next attack is be like!" Orihime bounced with excitement.

"Sorry you're doing fucking what?" Kira gaped as Rukia sat down next to him, looking more than a little smug.

"Casting without incantations Kira, try to keep up!" She teased.

"Goddamn." Muttered Shuuhei. "All I've been doing is drowning in paperwork and failing to drown my sorrows."

"Oh no!" gasped Orihime, joining them at the table. "What's wrong?"

"Besides the everything?" Kira laughed darkly. "Apparently Tousen had been doing like 90% of the Ninth Division's Work and now Shuuhei is playing catch-up."

"Oh, wow." Orihime nodded, patting Shuuhei's shoulder sympathetically. "-that's a lot of work! And with his Spinal Implants too!"

The table blinked at Orihime, confused.

"...what spinal implants?" Shuuhei asked, peeling himself off the table and staring at her.

"Oh! oh no, I didn't mean to blab medical information-" Orihime waved.

"Traitors aren't covered by HIPPA, What Spinal Implants?" Shuuhei demanded, calmly but firmly grabbing her by the shoulders to stress the seriousness of the situation.

"I- um, well- When I was being attacked by Mayuri-Taicho, um, Mr. Tousen stepped in and- well frankly, he saved my life!" Orihime mumbled. "But- he lost his um, what do you call it-? The white jacket? and the back of his uniform had been ripped open so I got a pretty good look at his spine and honestly I thought it was some kind of weird body piercing thing at first but when I asked he got really cagey for a bit and said something about 'spinal implants' but MAN, they looked like they had to have HURT, not to mention the big scars on his shoulders..."

The assembled shinigami shared wary looks.

"...Okay, you're not in trouble. In fact, you might be doing us a big favor." Rangiku gently put her hands on Orihime's. "-But I need to you be totally honest about what you saw, or didn't see, or what you think you might have seen but aren't totally sure about, okay?"

Orihime nodded.

"-Did you, at any point, see Aizen's sword, or think you saw one of it's attacks?" Rangiku asked, eyes focused on the girl in a way that reminded her uncomfortably of being stalked by a leopard at the zoo as a small child.

Orihime thought carefully. "I- um. I saw the big Kido spell he launched right before he and Mr. Gin and Mr. Tousen went through that portal- he was really far away, but I don't think he had his sword out. I couldn't actually see what he looked like, just where the light was coming from? It's kind of embarrassing, but I still don't know what this Aizen guy actually looks like?"

"Oh my god." Realized Rukia. "He didn't take Kyoga Suigetsu out the whole time he was at the execution grounds. If Orihime hadn't seen him before then, she was never under his illusion."

"Rukia, sketchbook." Rangiku demanded, hand out and Rukia rifled through her pockets for the book and a handful of pens. "Alright Orihime- do you think you can draw what you saw on Tousen's back?"

"Oh! yeah, I think I can do that!" She nodded.

"Remember, only draw what you're really, really sure you saw- no adding details!" Rukia prompted, remembering The Orihiminator form her art midterms.

"Right! Um- well, if this is his back-" She drew an outline of a human back, noting were his spine and shoulders were. "-there were these like? Little iron nails? Going up in pairs on either side of his spine. I'm not totally sure, but I'm like... 98% sure there was one pair for every vertebra. His hakama and scarf were in the way so I don't know how far up and down the went, but it looked like his entire spine? and then there was this bright red thread woven and tied in really elaborate knots between them- Um. I'm not sure how exactly, but it was something like this- if I saw pictures I'd be able to point the pattern out again." She explained, continuing the illustration.

"-And then on his shoulders there were a pair of Kanji that had been like- carved into his skin? They were bright red, like they were infected or maybe that's what they look like when he'd been running? but um- yeah, it was "Silence" on his left shoulder, and "Obedience" on his right- Like this!" She said, holding up the drawing.

The shinigami, as a group, turned white. Rukia slapped a hand over her mouth that only sort-of stifled the scream she let out. Kira started to shake and Shuuhei got up and leaned out the window like he might be sick.

"...They weren't medical implants like he said, were they?" Orihime winced.

Rukia reached over and gently pushed the drawing down so it was facedown on the table. "That's. um. That's a Curse Orihime. That's a really, really nasty curse." She explained gently.

"Shuuhei-" said Rangiku, frowning. "You said that Tousen had finished the Payroll, right?"

"Yeah, out to the middle of November." Nodded Shuuhei, still looking green. "Weirdest thing- he ended it on the thirteenth, a Teusday. Totally not like him."

"-Its also really weird for a guy who is allegedly planning on committing treason to make life easy for the people he's leaving behind by finishing out the payroll." Explained Rangiku, taking out her communicator and Dialing. "Shuuhei- I want you to go back to the Ninth and see what other work he finished that doesn't make sense, and keep track of the dates he finished them out to, Kira- you do the same for the Third Division. That Teusday thing is bothering me. Rukia- I need you to go find someone from the Kido Corps and meet me at the First Division. Orihime- you're with me."

"Yessir!" The three lieutenants jumped to their feet and took off as Rangiku finished placing the call.

"-Sasakibe-San?" She asked when the line clicked on. "Sorry to disturb you, but I think Miss Orihime has discovered something of critical importance. Can I meet you and Yamamoto-Sotiacho at the first division? Now?"

[sparklingmineraltequila]

American Wasteland

Note: Part three. I realised I never specified an exact timeframe so I'm clarifying that this is the last few year/months of him being undercover, about '94 Rust. I'm an ao3 girl so I'm figuring out how to lay fics out on Tumblr. Deeply appreciate everyone who's reading

Warnings: Drugs, drinking, swearing, smut insinuations and references to past violence but it is a True Detective fic, so

'Do you think we can ever truly talk about God?' Cassandra pipes up, as she's smearing herself in her pre-work lather of coco butter. When the sheen of the grease hits the light, it emphasises the taught expanse of her stomach and the tendons in her calfs. An amalgamation of divinity and delicate mortality; the pathetic fragility of the flesh, blood, skin and bones all knotted together, craving cosmic importance. 'Our soul, if there even exists such a thing,' Rust thinks, 'is just a ghost in a machine.'

Rust glances over to where she is standing in a matching lace, navy set, leg elegantly poised on the counter as she continues smoothing the ointment onto herself. He's lying on the mattress, still fully clothed, as he pinches his cigarette and stares back up to the ceiling. The events of the past few days, a visit to a meth lab in Galveston with Ginger followed by a drug and booze binge, have fucked his cognitive workings into a scramble of old memories and new sounds: the smell of gunpowder on his biker jacket, Cassandra's absent minded humming of an old Willie Nelson song, the brown sludge in his nail beds from when he was draining his Harley's oil, the black grease mixing with the residue of the red, Texan dust. He wills himself to give her a semi-coherent answer,

'I don't believe there's anyone there to talk to,' he drawls.

'I said about, not to.'

'What's your point, Cass? I ain't got the fuckin' will, tonight.' Rust thinks he can feel the chemical reactions behind his eyes; his enzymes breaking down proteins, the Speed throbbing through his neurotransmitters.

She rolls her eyes at him as she swaps leg, 'Chill out, I'm only wondering what you think. You know I value your opinion.'

He stiffens at that. 'Don't do this, baby,' he thinks 'It ain't worth whatever you think it is.' She's been doing this more often, letting that docility seep through the crevices of her impassible constitution. She hates herself for it, he can hear it in the acerbic tinge of her words, when she says shit like that to him. Sometimes, when he really concentrates at the expression in those dark pools of her eyes, he knows she believes she has deserved every horrific thing that has ever happened to her.

'I ain't really got an opinion on this matter, yet,' he says through an exhale of smoke, 'Why don't you tell me yours?'

'I know why, like, logistically we talk about God in modern languages, that's self explanatory. But it feels wrong, like we're corrupting the actual concept of a god.'

Rust doesn't look at her but says, 'Go on.'

'I think speaking about God in a dead language preserves him. Dead languages are frozen in time: absolute. They don't allow the transmutation or fucking corruption that modern languages do which are always evolving with dialects and younger generations,' she pauses, slipping her leg down from the counter as she slides her loose Budweiser t-shirt over her body, much to Rust's dismay. She continues,

'Also, on a more personal, aesthetic note, I think worship sounds a lot more metal in a language that isn't the one I use to order at fuckin' Waffle House.'

Rust snorts at that. He hears the slight smile in her voice as she replies,

'I know it sounds dumb when I condense it like that but that's literally my entire point. Worship is so often so dependent on the words we use and we venerate God in the same language that the televangelists or politicians use to con people on TV, the one that the girls at work use to sweet talk a customer into a lap dance? Seems fucked and incoherent to me.'

'I'm sure you can do that shit in a dead language too.'

'Nah, they existed before us. Whatever we try to imbue them with means fuckall, they don't participate in the reality of our information anymore.'

That gets him to sit up, the conversation staring to sober him up, 'Reality of information, huh? You've been stealing my books again, Cass?' a trace of a smirk on his lips. She huffs at him, stood in the middle of trailer,

'You were gone for three days and class is off for Spring Break, what the hell else was I supposed to do?'

'Buy some decent nightwear?' he remarks dryly. The reference to another one of her seduction tactics gets a mischievous smile from Cassandra . The past couple of weeks, she has been going to bed in some very short and, sometimes, very sheer nightdresses. Despite having made the chivalrous choice of sleeping on the floor of the trailer, chivalry being a virtue Rust is largely unacquainted with these days, his isn't unaffected by the sight of her sprawled out, almost beside him. Especially, when the nightdress naturally rides up during the night; a factor that has forced him to take too many a late night smokes outside.

'Nah, not when I know you enjoy it so much.'

'Cassandra,' Rust warns.

'Shit, full name?' she teases, 'You know, you're the only person who I let call me Cass.' She walks towards him, crawling onto the mattress and lying down next to him to look up at the ceiling. Rust doesn't move, not a goddamn inch. 'She'll know,' he thinks, 'Fuck, she probably already does.' Girls like Cassandra, girls too sexy and too tough for their age, always know. They have to. Growing up in a trailers, apartments and halfway houses, knowing that their tips which become their meals are based on how long they'll allow a drunk patron to stare at their tits or pat their asses as they serve them. They can smell male attraction from a mile off, tongues running over canines in mouths addled with whiskey and cigarettes. Oh yeah, they can tell and they know exactly how to play that game.

Rust wonders if he should feel some resentment towards her for it. He doesn't.

'Oh yeah?' he mutters, unimpressed.

'Yeah.'

'Lucky me.'

'You are. You know how many of your brothers would kill to give me a nickname?'

'Sounds to me like they already do,' his tone being harsher than he intended.

She goes silent and Rust hates himself more now than he did the other day, when he smashed a meth cook's head into a sink 14 times for screwing the Iron Crusaders' supply. The fragments of teeth and filaments of saliva mixed with blood that were left in the sink have nothing on the current look in Cassandra's eye.

'Don't be an asshole, Crash. You know I don't enjoy any of it,' her voice hoarse.

For the first time this evening, he looks her in the eye. 'I know,' tone steady but with a trace of true acknowledgment. Cassandra picks up on it, nodding her head. In these two innocuous actions, both have apologised and are forgiven. She stands up and grabs her duffel bag,

'You gonna swing by, tonight?'

He fucking wants to. Badly. He'd stomach the neon lights fucking with his Synesthesia, the lurid couches and the other Crusaders betting on how well each girl would 'take it'. He'd endure the fucking mire just to have Cassandra looking at him when she's on stage, the lights making her white smile a cool lilac.

'Nah. Can't tonight. Something at the clubhouse.'

'Oh, ok.'

'Poor kid. Like a kicked puppy,' he thinks. For the second time tonight, he can't stand that look in her eyes. He offers,

'You want a ride to work, baby? I'm headed in that direction, anyway.'

Something shifts slightly in her eye. The ball is back in her court. She savours it, rolls it over her tongue as victory coats it in something sweet and tart. Never one to show mercy, Cassandra toys with him,

'You'd give me a ride even if you weren't headed anywhere.'

Rust scoffs, fixing her with a look of chagrin; gleam of affection ,almost, trepidation in his eyes,

'I know, baby. I know.'

[beautifulchris]

trainwreck

pairing: choi lia x gn!reader

summary: sometimes, relationships are meant to end

genres: angst, lovers to exes!au, good ending?

wc: 1,1k

tw: lia is a bad girlfriend, swearing

notes: hello everyone! this fic is part of my collection of fics! indented are the lyrics (ignore the mentions of a dress and 'boy'), banner made by me on canva. also!! idk if you'll notice, but this one is also based on two other songs from anne-marie c: happy reading!

listen to the song for a more immersive experience: spotify link | youtube link

networks: @kflixnet @k-labels @kwritersworld @whipped-kpop-creators

permanent tag list: @soobin-chois @exfolitae @linos-catnip @prettymiye0n (tell me if you want to be added/removed)

“I can’t do this anymore.”

You meant to say this for a while now, and today was the day you finally gathered the courage to verbalize the thought.

“What do you mean?”

The words that flew past her lips were nonchalant, like she was completely relaxed. Sitting up, she had her arms and legs crossed and a seemingly emotionless face. At least, that was the face you knew she made when unimpressed.

“I mean… that I want to break up with you.”

In contrast, you were so nervous you could feel your heart hammer in your chest, and sweat was running down the sides of your face. Her reaction didn’t ease you either.

“Okay.”

Was it all you meant to her? After everything, it looked like it didn’t faze her at all. Saying you weren’t hurt would be a lie.

“Is that all you have to say?”

“What? Did you think I’d get on my knees begging you to stay? If you want to leave, go, the door’s wide open” she stated as she gestured towards the front door of her apartment. “I’ll wait for you to come back. Cause I know you will eventually. You know what? I give you two weeks at most.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did those hostile yet detached words really left her lips effortlessly?

You grabbed your bag and left her place without delay, whispering to yourself: “I won’t.”

Choi Lia has been an important person in your life, yes.

You loved her intensely and sincerely for many months, but soon, mostly thanks to your friends, you started to acknowledge the little details. Minimal at first, but, over time, they grew bigger until you couldn’t ignore them anymore.

She’d look into your phone whenever you’d leave the room without it, subtly mock you in front of her friends, cancel numerous dates to go to parties instead, order take-away when she was aware you cooked for her…

You always put up with it because you loved her, but letting her go, albeit painful, was the best thing you could’ve done for your own health.

Called up my friends, took their advice Put on a dress, I'm out tonight I can't believe I said goodbye Oh yeah, this time you know, I finally let you go, yeah

It had been three days since you put an end to the relationship. Of course your friends would take you out on a Friday night.

The party was chill. There were around twenty people, refreshing cocktails, good background music and board games.

Lia didn’t come to mind once, much to the delight of your dear friends. 

You actually made some new acquaintances, which was nice.

Spending more time with your friends, they saw the difference in your behavior.

“You look happier, Y/N,” one of them informed you.

“You smile and laugh more, you seem more alive,” another one added.

You felt it, too. You felt free from her. Her claws. Her grip on you.

I don't know why you thought that I'd be sheddin' a tear When I'm chillin' at the party, and I'm glad you're not here And I don't know what to say, but the pain disappeared And I'm sorry Bet you think I'm a trainwreck, upset Friday night, layin' lonely in my bed Truth is, boy, I'm so fuckin' happy Without you

Life went on.

A month later, Lia was on her couch, a drink in hand. It was dark in her apartment.

“Why haven't they come back already?”

She was fidgeting, her lips pressed together and her brows furrowed.

“They should’ve been back by now.”

Her phone rang in the deafening silence, making her flinch. Her eyes widened and she laughed. “Of course, Y/N would call instead of coming unannounced.”

She answered the phone with a confident smirk, ready to hear your begging.

“I put all your stuff in a bag. Do you have a moment this week so we could trade?”

Lia’s smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived.

“Also, don’t forget to give me back the keys to my place. I feel uneasy knowing you still have them. Not like you came often, anyway.”

It was her turn to be too stunned to speak. How could you be so apathetic? It wasn’t like you to use this tone when talking to her. She stared at the wall with an open mouth.

“I’ll wait for your message, then. Hanging up.”

Before Lia could protest, the call was over. She sat there, not moving for a while, thoughts twirling in her mind.

So pour yourself another drink Sit on your couch and overthink In all your lies and arrogance, I've been alright, you know So glad you let me go, yeah

Your ex-girlfriend finally gave you a time and place to meet. Without much surprise, it was at her place. Seeing her again after so long was not as painful as you thought it would be—not as painful as Lia hoped it would be.

She had to face the fact you changed. You weren’t the easily manipulated, sweetly naive and blindly in love person anymore. Much to her dismay.

“Here,” you handed her the bag, expecting another one in return.

Instead, she took a step back and offered for you to come in. “Want something to drink?”

“No?” With furrowed brows, you crossed your arms. “Give me back my stuff, please.”

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

You tilted your head, tapping your chin with your free index finger. “As a matter-of-fact, no, I don’t. I just want my stuff and leave this place forever.”

“Well… I…” Not finding anything concrete to say, she sighed loudly. 

Reluctantly, she grabbed the bag from the ground behind her and put the handle on your outstretched hand, before taking hers out of your other hand.

“You don’t mind me checking, right?”

She slowly shook her head, eyes unfocused, even if you didn’t wait for her approval. The key was there, that was all you cared about. Wait, no, there was a cute outfit you forgot about, too.

You thanked her and left. She called out for you, but you didn’t turn around. “Erase my number!”

It wasn’t said with a negative tone, but Lia took it like a stab in the back. Which was really audacious coming from her.

She just couldn’t believe you left her without a second thought and didn’t come back like she was convinced you would.

And now we're at the final stop And I'm the one that's gettin' off I know you hope I'm cryin', but I'm doin' just fine

She was now part of your past. Unerasable, of course, but peaceful.

thanks for reading! feedback is always appreciated :) masterlist

[fieldofdaisiies]

I have not yet read a court of silver flames, and I swear I intend to but first I gotta finish the throne of glass series; however i'm very intrigued by this situation with Gwyn and Az and the ribbon, could you explain what that's all about? I see it everywhere and I don't understand 😭

Gwynriel and the Ribbon

oooh of course💙 since you haven't read acosf, I don’t want to spoil anything, but I think I somehow have to in order to explain it. also tagging @gwynrielweeksofficial here. I know the ribbon thingy was on day 4 but I only got the ask today. so here we go:

Nesta befriends Gwyn who is a priestess from the library (not sure if you know that if you haven't read acosf yet). Gwyn has experienced terribly things in her past and is first scared to leave the library, but somehow is the first priestess to do so as she has become Nesta's friend and loves her. Emerie, who is from windhaven, also joins them and together they start to rebuild the Valkyries as this is something Gwyn has done a lot of reading on. the Valkyries have died out after the war 500 years ago and now they want to bring them back. they do a lot of Valkyrie activities and training techniques, like mind stilling, fighting and research on them.

in order to become a true Valkyrie you have to cut a ribbon which is extremely difficult.

Cass and Az always like to mock them a little and give them super difficult tasks and sometimes act a little arrogant when they pass a task, because they are cocky and proud Illyrians.

But actually Azriel seems quite interested in it, but you know broody, stoic shadowsinger does not really let it show and so acts rather indifferent, although he catch him looking over at her many times. 

So he is like yeah you did amazing and does not act really impressed, although I think he is

And I believe somehow Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn want them to be impressed by what they can do and want Az and Cass to see this and be proud.

And then there is scene about the obstacle course that Az and Cass built for them and Az is all like you can never finish it anyways and Gwyn is like „what do we get if we manage“ because she is sure they can. And Az is like yeah yeah, clearly amused by her (also totally starting crush haha)

And then Nesta says, "Remember how Gwyn was with the ribbon? […] You're the new ribbon, Az." -> somehow like Azriel is her new challenge and making him believe in her (which he already does but not shows)

No matter if is this is a romantic line or not, it is important. It is important and significant for Gwyn’s healing and her future. The ribbon represents a challenge, one Gwyn is ready to take on, so I in the broader meaning I think it fully stands for Gwyn's healing. This challenge of leaving the library, of being ready to face the outside world and maybe also finding love and making choices herself when she has been robbed of them once. 

I said that before, but I am not a fully committed Gwynriel shipper as Azris will always be my number one, so I really hope it all makes sense I described everything clearly. lots of love💙

@headcanonheadcase just felt like tagging you here, if I got anything wrong please feel free to tell me so 💙

[theghostnewsnetwork]

Sunset

But I'm sure I got it right, right? I really want to know if I am wrong because it's pretty important. To find out I would have to get closer and that's the last thing I want to happen or do. I already got close, right next to one actually so maybe a confession from someone. The simple solution is to forget it and you can't argue with the meme so gotta do it. Who knows maybe it is the right choice and somehow it will work out. Lol. I honestly had to chuckle at that thought, I doubt that will happen. I am getting a weird feeling though, like I missed something. I hate that feeling because it does usually end up biting me out of nowhere. It's like walking into the sunset and then you look back to see if you forgot something or someone. There's no one but the ghosts you leave behind.

Those ghosts sometimes follow you in your shadow. Or they might just be right in front of you without knowing it. The Ghost News Network has entered the ghost mode. Invisible to everyone in theory on the Sniffies app. Just to make sure however, some time will be given to confirm the ghost profile is in fact totally invisible to everyone. Special care must be taken in order to avoid exposure but we will see when I get up close to the action. Nevertheless we will see what is really going on in the underbelly.

They have no idea, which is comical. Can't track me now hehehe. I am literally going to go everywhere and take a look for myself. I had to make a rouse to distract everyone to make sure it worked.

I do have to mention that according to them and almost everyone around these parts keep saying its not real and yada yada so let's just go with that. I just made this post up for no reason and I am not doing anything about what I just said because what I am looking for doesn't even exist right? So after this they will mind their own business for once instead of getting into mine like they did with Raymond and I. I know they won't though because they are pathetic, they look pathetic, they act pathetic, and they're blood lineage is pathetic like them. I think roasting them over a fire is fun, I will do more of it since I am a ghost....

Here is a heavily edited screenshot of the invisible avatar in front of everyone. No one's the wiser.

I know it is going to drive them nuts knowing they can't track the profile or anything about it other than what I decide to show. Its going to be great. The real open profile is to the right but Its just there to be there at this point.

Good morning mother fu******s hahahahah good for meee 🤣😂

Nah its not, I rather be doing a lot of other stuff but its the principle of the matter.

So I'm recording activity at Cafe Agape and around it, this must be the time they do runs. Also their so dumb I swear, they put a profile where my invisible one after they read the blog. There even more stupid than I thought lol. Any ways I got them in the act again.

Just now. That is Cafe Agape ladies and germs.

They lie about everything and they believe everything. Can't make it up folks. I'm starting to think curdy boy is recruiting special ed dudes or something for real. This screenshot is real and I believe a package was dropped off this morning before it opened. It should still be there right now.

[scarletwix]

tell me about Cyrus Barker and his old Welsh yaoi. what's the craic

AYO okay okay so I got me some feelings about Barker and Llewelyn so this may take a minute

So the Barker and Llewelyn mystery novels are a series of books by Will Thomas, and they kind of do a spin the Holmes and Watson dynamic, as several mystery series' do. They're full on gaslamp mysteries, and I fell in love with the first book because it is the only book I've ever seen written by someone who wasn't Jewish that showed off the really rich lives that Jewish folks in victorian London had, while also stopping to point out the hardships faced and the differences between different sects of Judaism and the difference between Judaism and messianism (a topic for another post), and do it all with an obvious amount of care and attention to detail.

But none of that has to do with Cyrus Barker, my beloved Scotsman, and his Welsh clerk, Thomas Llewelyn.

We meet Llewelyn when he's in a pretty desperate situation. He's out of money, out of luck, and out of prospects. He's been recently released from prison, and is answering an ad for a job as an assistant that advertises itself with "some danger involved."

Cyrus Barker is shown to be a continually odd duck throughout the series. He's the weirdest, kindest, crotchetyest man ever. He chooses Thomas over every other candidate he has for the position (and he has several) because Thomas doesn't lose his cool, DOES pass every test, and because Cyrus watched him pitch his entire suitcase into the bin outside his door right before the interview.

Now, I mentioned it being a sort of Holmes and Watson dynamic, but it also really, really isn't. Thomas doesn't fawn over Cyrus the way that Watson sometimes does. The first time they meet, Thomas legitimately considers swearing uproariously at him and then storming out, but he doesn't. Thomas has an excellent memory (as one had to have in order to be an assistant/secretary/clerk way back when) and very quickly learns to roll with the (literal) punches that come with the job.

And anyway, they run around and solve mysteries and Cyrus is capital-I-Important to several factions of the government, but he's never weird about it, never flaunts it, and he's important enough that he gets to be a bitch about it sometimes, and I love that for him.

Also he wears sunglasses all the time, which is just a fun character detail.

I'm not caught up entirely with the series, so I don't know how the later books are, but I listened to the audiobook of Some Danger Involved and then went out and bought a copy so I could read it. Their relationship is SO fun and I love their dynamic and I am convinced that Cyrus Barker is head over heels in love with his assistant-turned-partner-in-mystery who is literally so handsome by narrative standards that it should probably land him back in Oxford prison.

Ugh. Love him. Love them. And no one else I know has read the books alskegjsldklsfdjlk rip me

Anyway here's the art I mentioned. I am literally the only person who's ever reblogged that post. The only other posts tagged with the series name are someone going "has anyone read these books?" and some reviews of the series.

[millenniumringg]

Arggg I’m stressing! My latest chapter for my fic is technically finished but it’s got so many flaws; the over-wordyness, the lack of good flow, and also it ends abruptly with no good resolution. I can’t stand it. I want to fix it but I don’t know where to start, and although I would like to work on later chapters I can’t do them until this one is fixed. Help meeeee I need advice and also my creativity is at a slump, I’m so stuck it’s making me stressed

oh noooooooo I am so sorry to hear you are in a slump :(

The good news is: YOU'RE NOT ALONE!!!

I think this is something all of us writers experience a lot. I totally understand the desire to hurry and get the chapter finished, but it sounds like you might need to take a step back and look at it with the freshest of eyes!

I feel a little silly giving advice, as I certainly don't have all the answers in the world, but I've certainly been in this position before and can share some of what I do to try and get past it:

To begin, are you suuuuuure you need to finish the chapter to move on to other ones? Sometimes, jumping around chapters and plot events can help you to come up with more interesting resolutions/situations! Don't go into writing the chapters with the set intention of having them be THE final draft. Moving on from the place your stuck on is most important! So, I say try starting a later chapter anyway! See what you can do. Sometimes it helps you fill in the gaps of where you might be stuck :]

Second, I recommend doing some light reading of books/articles/blogs about writing! Search the web for writing exercises or read about how other authors follow through with the writing process (like now! See? You're already on the right track, anon!). There's plenty of material out there to get you writing, either for the chapter you're stuck on or for something else entirely!

Which brings me to my final suggestion: Move on to something else for a little while! Sometimes you have to set your work in progress aside and do something else that's got you motivated. I know you want to finish your current project (believe me, I toooootally understand), but your brain can only think about one thing for so long! You gotta exercise the creativity in other projects to oil up those brain gears! Then, after you've taken a break, try going back and reading through the chapter again and see what happens.

For me, taking a break and moving on to something else works the best. Honestly, and you're gonna hate me for this, I would probably not look at the chapter for at least a week..... You really need to reset your brain in order to make appropriate edits! Like, for real, sometimes I get so frustrated and I won't look at a wip for like. a month (mainly because work and class get in the way anyways lmao) but then when I FINALLY am like ok. I'm just gonna remind myself what I have (because you will FORGET hopefully) and then boom. You'll have fresh eyes, fresh thoughts, and will be more likely to be able to fix what you don't think is working :]

ah...... not sure if this was the advice you were searching for.... but truly the most important thing for creativity is to both exercise it and give it breaks! I know... confusing... but its true I swear you just gotta get reach creative homeostasis....

I BELIEVE IN YOU!!!!!!!!!!

[kitkatt0430]

11, 16, 24, 74 and 75 for the fic asks please

11.) Do you write scenes in order, or do you jump around?

Mostly in order. The story usually flows that way in my brain and then even when I know for sure what's coming later and I'm more interested in that part of the fic... often I just need too much to get it down in the correct order to write out of order.

But there are exceptions and sometimes writing out of order is actually easier? My brain is a strange place sometimes.

16.) Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

I started off writing a lot by hand. Way back in high school there was a significant chance that everyone would see me writing and assume that as studious and good student I must have been taking notes. I was not. I was writing fanfic. A lot of Tales of Symphonia fanfic that never made it to the computer. I don't know how much is actually left.

Once I started writing on the computer, I rarely went back to hand written. I can type faster than I write, fix errors more effectively, and I don't have to worry about whether someone will find and read it before I'm ready. (Estelle can look over my shoulder all she wants. She's snuggly, only judgmental about the fact that fanfic takes time away from adoring her, and she's a dog so... does not read as far as I know.)

I don't like writing on the phone - the screen is too small and typing using a touch screen leads to too many typos and I just... don't like the experience. Tablets are better since they're bigger, but are at their best when paired with an external keyboard so it's basically like writing on a regular laptop.

24.) How do you choose whose POV to write in?

I swear sometimes the fic just chooses for me. It's generally what feels like it's most natural for the story. Like... whose reactions do I want the most info about and whose are fine second hand? So I'll generally have a gut feeling and just go with it. This isn't always right and I do have to stop and think about it if there are two PoVs competing for attention.

For Moments In Time, I'd been keeping to just Cisco and Hartley's PoV in the larger series so that was what I stuck with there too. But I started getting interested in what was going on elsewhere and introducing some pre-Westhallen. And thus I created Hurricane, which after considering whether or not to include Iris and Eddie PoV became a solely Barry PoV venture. But even after deciding anything I wanted to do with Barry would be a separate story, Moments In Time had some parts where I just knew without question whose PoV to do where. The intro to the story needed to be Cisco's because this was where his visions came into play in a big way so it was important to open with his dream/vision before he woke up. But the scene following that where Hartley offers to attend Dante's party with Cisco made more sense from Hartley's PoV because he's got a lot going on in his thoughts regarding Cisco's family's treatment of Cisco and wanting to protect Cisco from some of that verbal abuse, if he could. That detail was important regarding Hartley's evolving feelings towards Cisco - particularly his protectiveness of Cisco, which is something that came out a lot in that fic both in the original version of the day and in the current version after the timeline reset.

But sometimes it's really useful to have the same scene from two different PoV in order to achieve something specific. With Moments In Time, I had the first chapter close on the events of Cisco, Hartley, and Dante's kidnapping from Cisco's PoV up to where he passes out. Then in the second chapter I start with revisiting some of those events, but this time from Hartley's eyes. It allows showing a bit of unreliable narration between two characters - which can be fun to play with - while also filling in details with character B's PoV that character A wouldn't have noticed and allowing me to give the readers something closer to what I'm envisioning for the bird's eye view of the scene since I know what all the characters involved are experiencing.

74.) Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

I wanna say the last time I answered this I talked about Cassandra - a Doctor Who character fic about New Who's most interesting trampoline. But I do have a few other fics that I wish maybe got a bit more attention.

But I think maybe I'll go about answering this question in a weird way. And talk about a fic that did not initially get a lot of attention but since has. (Why Won't You Respect) When I Say No is a fic I wrote pretty much immediately after the final season of Major Crimes finished airing. I was fed up with how the show had essentially gone out disrespecting the main character's legacy not even a handful of episodes after she died (the actress may have been fine with it, or maybe that's just what she had to say, but I was definitely not) and even more so fed up with how Rusty/Gus was treated as endgame despite Gus' behavior after cheating on Rusty was entitled and selfish. He apologized and was sorry and still loved Rusty so he deserved Rusty back regardless of Rusty's feelings on the matter?

So I wrote a fix fic and was nervous about it. And while it got some nice initial attention - a couple of kudos and even a couple of comments - but it disappeared pretty quickly from view on the main page and while I was a bit disappointed that there weren't more people who were interested... the show was over and there were only a handful of fics for Rusty/Gus anyway. So it was disappointing for me but not necessarily surprising. Looks like even now there's only... seventeen Rusty/Gus fics - and it's a canon ship.

But, over time, the kudos count did frow. I posted it back in 2018 and today in 2023 it has 63 kudos, three comments, and five bookmarks. Which, for the tiny niche of the fandom it inhabits is pretty impressive. And it's validating to know that so many people liked the alternate ending that grew from my frustration with the show. That I wasn't alone in my irritation with how the characters were treated or my desire for them to have better. It just took time for a lot of the people who'd enjoy the fic to find it.

75.) Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn’t expect?

So the fic Spiral was a weird one that was more narration than anything. It's one that I could have used for the question above, because it is strange and not a shipping fic and it's Eobard's story slowly twisted by time travel, accidents, and a profound loneliness... but also about compassion against all odds.

And while I'd love for that fic to have more love... it also did get quite a bit of attention already too. At this point its got 27 kudos, which isn't too bad for where it resides within the larger Flash fandom. And between the those who left comments and the notes in the bookmarks, I do feel like the enigmatic and non-linear feeling I was going for really hit home the way I was hoping. So it may not have gotten the amount of attention some of my other fics did, but I'm really glad it resonated well with those who read it.

[koushisatori]

if you can't believe in others, at least believe in us

kyoutani x gn!reader

genre: as ordered: a bit of angst w a touch of comfort

warnings: one (1) big jealous idiot, miscommunication

word count: 5.4k

note: this is smth an anon asked me to do (but like...nearly a year ago, I'm not sure if anon is still there or if they remember and my dumbass deleted the ask so I just beta-ed through whatever I had but I know they called me out on enjoying jealous characters so here we go) I'm sorry, mysterious anon, I'm stupid </3 Anyway, that's that. I don't remember if reader was supposed to be female or not so I made it gn!reader (but if I forgot to change something, pls tell me so I can fix any errors c: It's also my first attempt I apologize in advance)

In the beginning, you weren't sure why your boyfriend is ignoring you

You can't remember doing something that would annoy him, nor do you remember an instant of anger in his eyes that would give you a hint about his reasoning to stay away from you

He explained early on that sometimes he just needs a day of distance because Kentarou could feel the anger simmering right under the surface, enough that something small could tick him off already, and he would hate if you were on the receiving end of this unexplained fury

Both of you also made sure to promise each other to clearly communicate, the relationship between the two of you would not last long if you're not properly telling each other what might be bothering or hurting...just in general cross a boundary

Communication probably was one of the most important aspects of your relationship

cue to the actual situation: your boyfriend avoiding you

So, Monday evening you think maybe it's this overwhelming sensation of unexplained anger and that something at morning practice ticked him off completely

But then Tuesday comes and goes, and your boyfriend had avoided you all day long, did not even bother to read your messages,

on Wednesday, you try to talk to him, but all he does is glaring at you with a look that leaves you speechless and kind of heartbroken,

Thursday is the day you're replaying everything you did on Monday, trying to find something that he could have misunderstood, yet no matter how hard you think about it…your brain won't come up with a reason that explained why Kentarou was so upset with you!

So you decide to make him talk to you on Friday

Enough is enough, right? For gods' sake, he is your boyfriend! You miss him and his strong arms that give hugs so warm that you melt right into them

You don't get a second alone with him until school ends

you practically sprint out of the school building over to the gym, knowing that he had a free hour, which means that he is probably the first person there - your only chance

There he is, sitting with his back to you, aggressively chewing on a bun filled with chicken - his usual that reminded him of his favorite dish - glaring holes into the ground

After taking a deep breath to calm yourself, you carefully aks: ''Kentaro…Ken…?'', slowly stretching out your hand, wanting to rest it on his shoulder to maybe help to soothe him a bit

he flinches instead and his heated, agitated gaze meets your eyes, making you recoil in return

''…will you talk to me, I miss you…'' you say softly, realizing how it hurt being ignored by him

''Ah, suddenly you miss me…'' he spits, narrowing his eyes ''…didn't fucking seem like it the last time I saw you…''

''Kentaro, baby, I have no idea what you mean,'' you plead, keeping your voice low to hide the desperation lacing it, confusion written all over your features

all Kyoutani does is growl, hopping down from where he's sitting while shouldering his gym bag

''...shouldn't have been so flirty with Shittykawa like that then-'' he grumbles - ''Ken, I didn't-'' you insist, but he continues ''twirling your hair, batting your pretty eyelashes at him, fuck you Y/N, if you want him, then feel free to take a fucking leave" Kyoutani cusses, not even listening to you

You shake your head, ''Kentaro, no, you totally misunderstood the situation,'' you follow up, panic seeping into your voice now that you knew what he referred to, ''I love yo-''

''Tsk'', he moves to leave

you try to take his hand but, instead of turning around, Kyoutani just rips it away from you, tucking it into the pocket of his jacket

from behind you, you hear Yahaba and Oikawa approaching (talking about Volleyball and Captains duties)

once they guessed what must have happened, they offered you their help (they both swear that Kyoutani will never ever find a ''cute s/o as you are, y/n-chan, I'm worried for my little angry pomeranian kohai'' )

Usually, you would try to talk to him, but after enduring a week of radio silence and now this treatment, you were tired of upholding something that seemed like a lost cause

you just wave both setters off and leave the school grounds, a frown plastered onto your lips and tears swimming in your eyes

Kentarou had not listened to you, did not even really look at you, and the few seconds he did, his eyes were filled with rage instead of the warmth he had usually reserved for you (and only for you)

If your boyfriend thinks avoiding you for a week and blaming you for something ridiculous without hearing you out is how you handle a relationship…maybe you would have to consider not pursuing it any longer

Which is easier said than done

The whole night you wait for a message, anything, and then all Saturday morning

you still had hope left

You get one from Yahaba, who tells you that Oikawa tried to clear up the situation as well after the reason for your fight dawned on him (Kyoutanis piss poor mood and behavior towards him a strong indicator) but Kentaro, again, just ran off

The future team captain even called you after your lackluster answer, listening to you getting the frustration and sadness out of your system

It didn't matter, right? Your boyfriend decided to unofficially call it quits by implying that your feelings for him were not genuine instead of using his mouth to talk to you and disregarding everyone involved

as if he wanted to ignore the truth as a convenient excuse to get out of your relationship

that's the conclusion your brain came up with

You softly sniffle in the privacy of your room, clutching a pillow to your chest (which has seen more tears in the last two days than in the past three years), deciding that it would be a good idea to go into the city to treat yourself

knowing that your mother has a hair-dresser appointment somewhen today, you go and announce that you would join her to finally buy the latest season of your favorite series

once there, you additionally get microwave popcorn, chocolate, and ice cream, as well as a pretty shirt you saw on a mannequin while window shopping

you feel a lot better after spending some money and ignoring the lingering sadness of your presumable break up with Kyoutani (who you love ok, it is not that easy)

In between your stops, you meet Iwaizumi and Oikawa munching on fatty burgers (celebrating your cheat days like a holiday and indulging in whatever your heart desires, is what makes it easier to stick with healthier habits the rest of the time was the questionable explanation coming from the brown-haired setter, pointing at you with a soggy potato fry)

after a moment, the setters eyes turn sad, a frown replacing the smile on his lips

he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you from going just yet, apologizing for being the cause of your fight and for being unable to talk some sense into him

(you assure him that it is not his fault, knowing that your friend will probably brood over it otherwise, which wouldn't be fair)

Iwaizumi adds that Kyoutani will come around and that his cooldown time is just longer than those of other people (and if not, he will give him one of his famous volleyballs to the head and use his status as only truly respected senpai to talk some sense into him) but you again decline their suggestions

after saying goodbye (and seeing Iwaizumi give his best friend an assuring gentle pat on his shoulder, the secret softy in the usual harsh ace shining through)

If Kentaro was willing...able to throw away your relationship this easily, he can't possibly really love you, and you'd accept this even if it's hard and painful

Now remembered of what you had attempted to forget about, you feel your eyes sting with unshed tears (you thought there was no possibility of you having more tears to spill, yet the impossible seemed to be the case) you look down at your phone to text your mom and frown

Kentaro 🥰: we need to talk. Kentaro 🥰: meet me there [location]

For a second, you hesitate, biting your lower lip harshly…you really want to go and talk to him but…

The tears still sting in your eyes and blurring your view reminded you of what you had gone through the whole time, and that it was his turn to finally come to you

break up or makeup, the ball was in his court now

so while walking to where your mother would be waiting for you, you begin to type

You: No.

You: I waited for you all week, even though you ignored me, and now you expect me to run the moment you choose to stop being a childish idiot?

You: if you decide to speak to me then comqjdkn

Kentarou wouldn't say he feels particularly bad. Not at all! If someone was to ask him, he would probably answer fucking peachy, what the fuck are you asking for or growl angrily. No one would bat an eye and further question him, nor guess that maybe he wasn't as great as he pretended because he missed his gorgeous better half, but…it was his fault, wasn't it?

Of course, he originally thought he had a valid reason to be upset. And if he had just spoken to you about it, everything would be solved now. Instead of being a decent boyfriend, though, his pride overtook his thinking processes once he realized that his behavior wasn't even the slightest bit justified. Not that he knew this when he saw you speaking with Shittykawa right before school. All he could see was his gorgeous s/o shyly fiddling with her fingers, conversing with a leaned forward, very involved Oikawa Tooru. He would have fetched you away from the brown-haired setter. He had no qualms about showing his possessiveness. God, Kentarou wouldn't have hesitated to growl at the tall, brown-haired boy if not for the question he heard coming from the Captain.

''Y/N-chan, how is it that you, an adorable, charming individuum, is with a brute like Mad Dog-chan? I really-'' Well, that's where he decided to leave you with the setter. He didn't need to hear your answer. Didn't want to witness an excuse or maybe the truth. If both of you were so fucking smitten with each other to flirt this blatantly, why don't you just go and cheer for him, hold his hand, and kiss his cheek goodbye? It was his choice to distance himself.

Kyoutani couldn't help the feeling of betrayal and hurt washing over him. Maybe you just used him as a stepping stone to get closer with Oikawa, and Kyoutani has been too blind to see it. He never doubted you or your relationship before, but it's not a secret how eruptive Kyoutani could be. It has always been beyond his imagination how someone so cute and sweet like you could love a person like him. Your friends thought so. The teachers. The whole school! Everyone questioned your poor judgment. And when you came running up to him, you're cheery voice calling out for him, everyone present looked at you like you grew a second head. It's the reason why seeing you with Trashykawa ticked him off so bad. It catered to his biggest insecurities and fears. He knew that all those skeptics would be delighted to see you, everyone's darling, with the schools' star setter. They all would agree that the pretty, handsome young man is a better fit than the always hostile-looking troublemaker.

While Kyoutani didn't take Oikawa seriously in most cases, he undoubtedly was one of the most devoted people Kentarou had ever met. If Oikawa wanted to get a new serve right, he wouldn't stop trying and repeating it until his legs gave in, and Iwaizumi dragged him out of the gym. When he wanted to find more advanced players to practice with, so he could, in return, give this new knowledge to his team, there was no way he would not manage to make it happen. Even if his ideas, wishes, and plans cost him blood, sweat, and tears (like getting Kyoutani to actually train), Oikawa never backed down. Kentarou had heard that Oikawa's last girlfriend dumped him because of his passion for Volleyball. Yet Kyoutani couldn't help but think that, in you, the ambitious setter would have found someone that would be able to handle it. You usually came over to watch the team when you knew that Kyoutani was there to play. You sat on the stands with your homework in your lap and a Seijoh-coloured pencil wiggling between your fingers, not bothered by the noises coming from the court. You play with your earlobe while you frown at whatever problem you came across. You patiently wait for practice to finish. Kentarou was sure that you'd be someone Oikawa would actually try for. You weren't one of his squealing fangirls, hanging from his arm on every opportunity, but his friend. You didn't pester him to take selfies with you while pushing cute bentos into his hands. When you bring food to practice, then it's for the whole team to share. If he wanted you, Oikawa would probably have to win you over and make sure that you'd stay. Courting and all that jazz. In all seriousness, Shittykawa would be a fucking idiot if not.

The dyed-blond wing spiker had been so sure that he was rightfully mad that he didn't stop to think twice before he reacted this coldly towards you. But, and this made it even worse, Kentarou knew that he was wrong the moment you asked what happened after an entire week of enduring his silent treatment. The second he heard your shaky voice and saw the tears welling up in your eyes, his brain rebooted, and suddenly he wasn't so sure of his own reasoning. You two were together for about half a year. Kyoutani - by now - was confident in his ability to identify most of your expressions. All he could decipher in your eyes was pain, paired with a need to understand, but…if he was in the wrong…it would mean that he had hurt you the whole week, which in conclusion implied that Kentarou had been the world's shittiest boyfriend. Fuck, he thought, I don't deserve y/n.

His situation didn't get any better the moment Oikawa entered the gym. The person Kyoutani thought he had a real reason to despise now tried to mend the rift between the two of you.

''Mad Dog-chan, I think you misunderstood something there. Well, no, you decided to not listen-'' The taller male says, hands gesturing wildly. While his voice still had that annoyingly cheery tone, it had something commanding hidden underneath. And oh, how Kentarou hated when someone demanded something of him, even if it was for his own good. ''Don't want to hear it.'' the blond mutters, already aggravated. The brown-haired setter resolutely puts himself in the way again. ''Oh, but you have to! That morning, Y/N-chan literally declared her love for yo-'' - ''I don't fucking care.'' Kentarou barks, not looking Oikawa in the eyes.

After another fruitless attempt to get properly into the gym, he growls and turns to leave. Already on his way to grab his stuff and take a leave, he hears Oikawa yelling. ''You answered and justified why I asked Y/N-chan to begin with!" And then louder, even though he could make out Iwaizumi trying to wrestle his childhood friend back into the gym, "APOLOGIZE, YOU IDIOT! YOU BETTER GROVEL FOR Y/N'S FORGIVENESS! THEY DESERVE BETTER THAN THIS SHOW YOU'RE PUTTING ON, AND YOU KNOW IT!"

This happened on Friday evening, and the guilt was gnawing away on him ever since. On his way home, Kyoutani had automatically taken the detour to your house. Kentarou enjoyed bringing you home (and more often than not, you pulled him inside with you, making him cuddle you!). It makes him feel like a good boyfriend, and he knew that you arrived there safely. He would never tell anybody and deny it if you ever decided to share this, but Kentarou relished in the feeling of your hand holding his all the way while going on about your day. He admired that you'd pet every cat and every dog you meet on the trip home together with him. You were perfect for him…why again did he act like this?

What caused Kyoutani's attempt to apologize - in his usual overly blunt and partly aggressive kind of way - was Yahaba, though. Both boys denied being remotely something beyond 'not really enemies'. But his future team captain was definitely one of the very few people that could and would tell him to his face that he fucked up without real repercussions. He would presumably even help Kyoutani to get it together.

After Yahaba had called you and listened to your heartbreaking rant, the setter realized that you, his friend, and his 'not really enemy' needed to talk ut out. Totally immersed in your tirade, you accidentally let slip that you couldn't endure Kyoutani's treatment any longer. That being pushed over by your boyfriend with brash and hurtful words after handling the cold shoulder was too much. That you expected Kyoutani to break up with you on Monday either way. In-person, if he had mercy on you or continue his treatment as a silent method of doing so. While you told Yahaba about your planned ''get over it-self-care'' weekend (involving tons of ice cream, movies with crying guarantee, lots of blankets, and no smartphone), the setter had already put on his jacket, shooting a message to Kyoutani.

From Yahaba: get your stupid fucking ass outside to meet me, or I'll bench you the complete season next year

Even though the wing spiker was sure that Yahaba's words were nothing but empty words, Kentarou allowed himself to accept this threat as an excuse to put his pride aside. Because, even though Yahaba annoyed him to no end - not as bad as Oikawa but still - Kentarou was also aware that you and he were friends. If someone could help him gaining your forgiveness, Kyoutani had to accept and admit that it was Yahaba. Meeting his light brown-haired teammate was kind of awkward. Kyoutani was unsure what he had to expect, though he should have seen the rough treatment coming. Yet, getting told that you, the person Kentarou was undeniably in love with, felt so neglected and hurt that you deemed this relationship to be as good as over allowed the guilt monster in his chest to grow. Shitty Oikawa was probably right ordering him to grovel and beg on his knees for you to even hear him out.

Your answer to his message was partly unlike you. Well, the last sentence. You usually were pretty forward with him to avoid miscommunication and uncalled-for moping around. And while you sometimes send keyboard smashes to express the chaos you felt, they were always in a separate message and not so…random. The text definitely meant something like ''then come to me'' but somehow, Kyoutani had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing.

Besides, he couldn't just wait till Monday and hope that you'd accept his apology! You may send him away today already, but he still had a teeny-tiny bit of hope. If he let the thoughts of him leaving you or the other way around fester in your mind for two whole days, though,…you'd probably realize that leaving him wasn't that bad of a decision. You'd come to the conclusion that all your admirers could treat you better than Kyoutani did. And he was too selfish to let you leave. Even though all he did the whole week was being self-centered and stuck up, he would be damned to begin being a saint now and let you go. That you at least were willing to talk to him was…a relief, to say the least. Kentarou hoped that this translated to you being willing to put up with him a little longer if he apologized correctly. That you're not opposed to giving him another chance to make things right.

At your house, he was greeted with darkness. Not even a single light illuminating any of the rooms he could see from his spot on your front lawn. And the ones he saw were your and your mom's most-used rooms. Your room window, your mothers' workroom, and the living room area with an adjacent kitchen. All of those rather significant rooms and the lack of light in them seemed to be a dead giveaway for Kyoutani that no one was home. Kyoutani guessed that you were probably out with your mom, glancing over to the empty spot in front of the garage.

Oh god, your mother had been the only supportive person of your relationship. Maybe it's in your family to see the best in everyone, even in shitty people like him. But if you told her about his behavior, she'd most likely not welcome him with a smile ever again, no matter if you forgave him.

There weren't many things Kyoutani could do in this situation, but it wasn't as late as nature let it on, and after a few seconds, he had decided to sit down at the front door and wait for you, hoping that it wouldn't take too long for you to come home. As if fate wanted to tell him something, the wing spiker had put on the jacket with the half-full power bank. He had worn it to the shelter when he visited it this week while distracting himself from your absence in his daily life. You had gifted him the piece of clothing, which is probably why he unconsciously had decided to wear it to everything he did after school in the first place.

Kentarou passed the time by snarling at people eyeing him for a moment too long to not be judgmental, petting the neighbors' cat wandering over to him, and watching videos. Every time he thought ''Y/N would like this'', his heart stuttered guilty.

To Kentarou, it felt like an eternity until your mother's car finally drove up the entry. To avoid your mother's potentially deadly stare, he nervously checked his mobile, realizing that he had waited for a little more than 3 hours. Yet, the wait had done nothing to soothe his nerves. They instantly spiked up again while his heart threatened to jump out of his throat.

She will hate me. Your mother would hate me, she'll hate me, she'll ha-

''Ah, Ken-chan! Good evening.'' Your mother greets him with a tired, yet still gentle smile. Oh. The blond blanches. He'd never admit it, but he enjoyed the treatment he received from your mother more than he should. Being spoken to without suspicion and receiving a warm smile every time without fail was a welcome change to his daily life. Your mother didn't listen to people trying to bad-mouth him. To her, he simply was the boy that - normally - treats her child the way a mother wished for. Even if he pulled a face as long as a fiddle.

''I didn't know you were coming, Ken-chan, or I would have messaged you…but now that you're here, maybe you can assist us out and help Y/N inside? It would help a lot.'' His gaze immediately flitted over to you on the passenger seat. With your arms crossed in front of your chest and that stubborn but endearingly cute pout on your lips, he nearly missed the tiredness your body emitted. Kentarou wanted to rush over to your side immediately but was stopped by your mother again. ''I don't know what you two are fighting about…but please talk to each other. I don't want my baby to be this sad. Especially now, and…'' she rests a hand on his shoulder, her eyes kind and comforting ''…I also don't want to miss you here, alright?'' He stiffly nodded and watched your mother carrying in plastic bags filled with various medicine packages and food.

After coming back to his senses, Kyoutani finally stumbled over to your side, practically ripping open the car door. This new perspective revealed a plaster cast wrapping your whole left leg and a removable wrist brace on your right hand. ''Bab- Y/N…what the fuck…happened?'' His honey-brown eyes continued to wander over your injuries, and with every second, he found more. Scratches and scrapes, bandaids and bandages peeking out from underneath your clothes. ''I'm so sorry,'' he whispered, hanging his head low.

All your intentions to fight his helping hand and limp over to the door by yourself disintegrated into nothing. You never witnessed such a devastated, beaten expression on his face before. Instead, you settle for ''Will you help me?''. A question asked quietly to your fingers picking at a loose band-aid edge on your arm and pressing it back onto the irritated skin.

After you loosened your seatbelt, he waits for you to carefully place your arms around his neck. It is followed by Kyoutani lifting you out of the car so gently as if he was afraid you might break. This whole situation in itself already contradicting his brash appearance and usual behavior. It would give whiplash to all the people pretending to know him. But he was always caring in his own way when it came to you. It's why you loved him after all. Because you usually knew that he loved you, too.

For a few moments, the atmosphere between the two of you felt awkwardly tense, both of you unsure how to interact with each other. The mostly blonde wing spiker breathed out a sigh of relief when you fully leaned into his chest once he stood upright, resting your head against his shoulder. A bit of maneuvering through the front door eventually lead to Kyoutani passing through the hallway and taking you to your room, where he was gently lowering you down on the bed.

It was a now or never kind of situation. For the both of you. While Kentarou was trying to find out where to begin his apology, he took a few steps back in case you wanted space until everything was cleared up.

You unconsciously helped him making a decision by impulsively grasping onto his shirt the moment he started to withdraw, stopping him in his retreating movement. Kentarou saw your lower lips wobbling, teary eyes looking up at him pleadingly.

''Please stay,'' you say weakly, which is enough for him to throw the whole thinking process away and simply sit down next to you, intertwining both your hands. ''I'm staying. I'm not leaving. Not now nor this relationship if you still want...an ''us''. The wing spiker took a deep, shuttering breath. '' I'm sorry, Y/N…'' he finally manages to say, honey eyes locked onto your linked your hands. ''I have been fucking stupid all week. 've been a fucking terrible boyfriend, the worst to ever exist.''

As if to encourage him...to show your boyfriend that his apology was not for nothing, you shuffled around until the last bit of distance between the two of you was closed. You hum, acknowledging his words while leaning your head on his shoulder.

''I didn't think you're cheating or something, …'' Kyoutani immediately assures you. There was no way he would allow you to think that he would accuse you of something like this. ''I had no reason to be jealous, but I was insecure. Let it get the best of me. Despite our promise to communicate, I was sulking. 't was easier. I'll do whatever the fuck you want for you to not give up yet…'' he says, taking his time with every sentence.

With a sigh, you squeeze his hand. ''It will probably take a lot of cuddling and attention from you...'' you say thoughtfully ''...but I forgive you…if you promise to not do this again…'' you murmur, tilting your head upward to press a chaste kiss to his jaw. ''Otherwise, I'll accept Iwaizumi-san's offer to get your thinking process restarted.'' For a moment, your voice had its usual joking edge. But you knew talking out everything was necessary. ''But, in all honesty, 'Tarou....please, never do this again. I am honest. I will not endure this a second time. When you tell me that you need a day or two for yourself then that is totally fine. If you feel yourself giving into whatever insecurity, talk to me about it. I am sure there will be an explanation or a solution but don't leave me in the dark. Don't treat me like that. I love you. Only you and no one else. But the time love can withstand straight-up ignorance by your partner is limited.''

Slowly, your boyfriend nodded, squeezing your hand to tell you that he understood. You would probably cling to him for a while but were sure that he would survive the extra closeness. Not even half a second later, his head leans onto yours cautiously.

''…and try being nicer to Oikawa-san, Tarou, he hasn't done anything to you.'' You add humorously before small giggles started to erupt from your lips. ''Also...Baby…'' you start, being interrupted by choked-up hiccups and giggles. By using your nickname for him, you take away another persistent fear of his. What he does not miss, however, is how you wince in pain before you continue, ''…who helped you put this into words? I mean…I loved it, but…,'' You leave unsaid that words usually are not his strong fort.

Biting back a smile, he frowns, huffs, and puffs…, but the way you are looking up at him, eyes shining with relief and adoration, allows him to admit defeat. He sighs ''…it's how Yahaba said I should say it…'' It usually would be an odd enough statement to make you throw yourself all over him with laugher. As a slight replacement, you squeeze his hand a bit, still shaking with suppressed laughter. ''I promise…that I will talk to you. Can't promise the Shittykawa part.'' Another soft chuckle leaves your lips before you look up at him again. ''I hope you try nonetheless. You should not let Iwaizumi-san hear you calling Oikawa-san that, though, I don't think this would turn out well for you…so...maybe stop this at least.'' Kentarou rolls his eyes at you, but in the end, he nods.

You wait for another second to clearly distinguish the two topics before you continue. ''…Thank you…for coming and finally speaking with me instead of break-'' A hand on your lips muffles your words.

''Don't say these words. I'd never break up with you,'' Kentarou grumbles, a light, uncharacteristic light pink settling on his cheeks. You stick your tongue out, which leads to him taking his hand off of your face with a surprised noise, rather dumbfounded that you had licked his hand. It gives you the chance to lean up and finally press your lips against his. ''I'm not leaving you either,'' you murmur, feeling his lips twitch upwards slightly. You decide to leave the teasing for another day.

Moving back into your previous position was enough of a hassle to hiss in pain. It brought back Kyoutani's awareness of the second problem at hand. ''What did happen to you?'' Kyoutani asks in an attempt to tamper down the excited, happy beating of his heart.

''Oh, this...uh, when I answered your text, I got driven over by a dude on a bicycle,'' you casually drop. It was kind of entertaining to watch his expressions change at an unequaled pace while processing your words. In the end, it settled into something akin to passive-aggressive worry. The way he was immediately fretting over you while cursing and cussing out the bicycle dude was his own way of caring. As you watch him retrieving the food your mother bought, while mumbling about how you're a dumbass for not paying attention to your surroundings, how he'd come over every day until you could go to school again to bring and teach you the stuff you would miss and how he would fucking murder the bicycle idiot if he ever finds out who dared to drive you over, you can't help the smile forming on your lips.

Once again, you are proven that loving him - while occasionally troublesome and demanding - was everything but wrong.

[letarasstuff]

Hold On

Summary: This is based on the song "Hold On" from Chord Overstreet. After weeks and months of arguments, hurtful words and pain Spencer's daughter is convinced that this is the only option for both's happiness.

Warnings: attempted suicide (not specified how), hospitals, angst, sad, hurtful words, mean Spencer in the beginning

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

Loving and fighting, accusing, denying I can't imagine a world with you gone

The last few weeks weren’t easy in the Reid household. There is not one day, where no loud screamed arguments are thrown through the entirety of the apartment.

“(Y/N), you have to see things from my point of view, too! My job is demanding and I can’t be there for every little competition you have”, Spencer tries to reason with his daughter.

“I have to see things from YOUR point?! Little competition?! DAD! This was the math olympics and, mind you and your busy schedule, it was not the ‘petty’ school round. I went against people from the WHOLE country! Just- I- Sometimes it would be nice to feel like I have a father caring for me for at least an hour. But I see, your job is more important than your child.”

Her father looks at her, speechless. He didn’t know how far she came in that competition. (Y/N) hasn’t said a thing, didn’t make a noise about it. How is he supposed to know all that then?

“Just because I’m a profiler doesn’t mean I’m able to read your mind. Just try and cut me some slack here, I- I need you to understand how important the things I do are. Can you try to be a little less ignorant, please?”

It feels like Spencer has punched her in the guts. For years (Y/N) backed down, knowing that her father’s work is in fact important. He is saving life for crying out loud, but is it really that selfish to ask for his attention every once in a while? Ever since she is basically able to be on her own it seems like he stopped caring for her.

“Ignorant? Oh Dad, you really are an amazing profiler”, the teenager says, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “You know what? Try and profile that!” She begins to walk out of the living room, showing him the bird. Seconds later her door smashes into the lock.

The joy and the chaos, the demons we're made of I'd be so lost if you left me alone

Is he really that bad of a father?

When (Y/N) was born, he swore to himself to be the opposite of his own. Spencer wanted to be there for his daughter any time she wanted him to. School dances, spelling competition, kindergarten graduation, the whole nine yards.

But when was the last time they did something as a family. From cooking and eating dinner together nearly every night they went to occasionally seeing the other at the breakfast table before heading out.

Spencer understands her now. He is not better than his father at the moment. He just missed a big event in his daughter’s life and blames it on her. He called her ignorant, even though he is the one that didn’t pay attention. The oh so amazing profiler forgot to show his child that he loves her. That she is more important to him than anything in his life. He needs her in order to function, her love is the only thing that motivates him to do anything.

He knows he has to talk to (Y/N) about it, he was wrong and mean. Spencer just wants to give her time to cool off.

Meanwhile the teenager sits on her bed, staring at the wall. He did it again. He said these hurtful words. Tears stream down her face, but she is numb to them.

Everytime he calls her something, (Y/N) memorizes it. She doesn’t have an eidetic one, but when it’s about mean things, everybody has an elephant’s memory.

Ignorant.

Selfish.

Egoistic.

Childish. And many more.

And her father is right. She is all of the above and so much more.

Maybe he is better off without her. Better off without having to act like he cares for her.

She is a burden, she knows that. Her mother knew that from the beginning, why else would she have left them? Left her? Nobody’s life wouldn’t be better, if she isn’t in it anymore.

(Y/N) thought long and hard about this. Tonight just confirms her thoughts and boostes her decision.

Quietly she makes her way over to the bathroom, locking the door without making a noise. Hidden under towels is her little box. The contents she complained about using for so long.

You locked yourself in the bathroom Lying on the floor when I break through I pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

Twenty minutes have passed since (Y/N) smashed her door. Spencer hopes it is enough time for a teenager to cool off. He knocks on her door, waiting for an answer.

Nothing.

He tries again.

Nothing.

“Sweetheart? May I come in?”

The silence is louder than any gunshot he heard.

“Sweetheart, I want to apologize. May I open the door?”

Still nothing.

Spencer enters the room, finding it vacant. Oh of course, the moment he wants to talk with her she is in the bathroom. The Reids always had a thing for timing.

He knocks at the bathroom door. “Sweetheart, are you in there? Of course you are. Dumb question. I- I want to apologize. What I said wasn’t right and it was hurtful. Can- can you come out? There are a few things I have to make right.”

To his bewilderment there is no answer. No noises. A whole lot of nothing. This scares Spencer. “(Y/N), please say something. I care. I do. I love you, please answer me”, he desperately says.

Still no answer.

Spencer feels like he doesn’t have a different choice. He takes a step back and a deep breath, remembering what Derek taught him. With a loud crash he kicks the door open.

There she lies. His child. His daughte. The one human he promised to protect no matter what.

Her body lifeless, a small box next to her. Spencer identifies the contents immediately. His heart drops faster than he thought it to be possible.

In an instant he kneels next to (Y/N), pulling her in. His hands are shaking as he tries to take her pulse. “No no no no. NO! (Y/N), baby please open your eyes. Don’t leave me, no! You can’t do that, I love you, I love you so much. Don’t leave me, I need you!”

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

(Y/N) is in and out of consciousness. The dark seconds are terrifying to her. She regrets her choice.

In the seconds she is conscient, she hears a warm voice. The teenager feels safe now that it is there. At first the voice is quiet and blurry, but she is still able to catch a few words.

“Don’t” “Me” “Love you” “Much” “Need”

As her body finally slips away, she feels at ease. These words, it feels like lotion on her wounds. Because she also loves the voice and its person. She needs them like they need her.

Long endless highway, you're silent beside me Driving a nightmare I can't escape from Helplessly praying, the light isn't fading Hiding the shock and the chill in my bones

Spencer acts quickly. He knows his daughter doesn’t have much time left. He picks her up, trying to grab as many important things on his way out as possible. The genius runs to his car, hoping and praying to all the gods above that it will work after months of not using the vehicle. The motor does turn on to his relief.

The drive to the hospital feels longer than any roadtrip Spencer ever went on. The seconds tickle down and just like that (Y/N)’s chances. Chances of a happy ever after with him in her life, hopefully.

Not once does she move, her body looking more like a doll than a human being. Spencer just prays that it won’t be like this for long. He needs her, the light of his life. She can’t fade, she is not allowed to. It will break him. Darken his own light.

He has to be strong now. The glass is half full, the hospital only a few minutes away. (Y/N) will make it. Spencer doesn’t have any other option than that.

They took you away on a table I pace back and forth as you lay still They pull you in to feel your heartbeat Can you hear me screaming? Please don't leave me

“I need a doctor! A nurse! Somebody! My daughter, she-” Spencer screams, entering the ER with her lifeless body in his arms. He can’t end the sentence. But it’s also not necessary. A whole team of people crowd around the young man, one of them pulling a stretcher behind him.

Reluctantly Spencer lowers (Y/N) on it, knowing that he can’t do anything more. His child’s fate lies in the hands of the medical staff now. He has to trust them with her. With his lifeline.

One doctor takes her arm, trying to take a pulse. He shouts something, but Spencer’s ears are deaf to his words. Everything goes silent as they pull her away. Away from him.

He falls to his knees as reality hits him. He may not be a father any longer. And it’s his fault and his fault only.

“Please don’t leave me”, Spencer whispers.

Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you Let me take your hand, I'll make it right I swear to love you all my life Hold on, I still need you

Lights flash her. They hurt her eyes. But there is a greater pain (Y/N) can’t locate where it’s coming from. Where is her father? She needs him. She has to apologize. There are so many things she wants to say to him. To reassure him that she knows her decision was wrong.

As people continue to scramble around her, the pain intensifies. It becomes nearly unbearable and stops suddenly. The last thing she hears after a shrill high pitched tone is the voice of her father.

“I love you.”

I don't wanna let go I know I'm not that strong I just wanna hear you Saying, "Baby, let's go home" Let's go home Yeah, I just wanna take you home

“Family of (Y/N) Reid?” A doctor asks into the waiting room, looking exhausted. Spencer looks up from the floor. He memorized every little bump while pacing back and forth. He hasn’t called anybody. He doesn’t want to alarm then, not now. The young doctor needs time to understand what’s happening.

“Is she breathing?” is his first question. The doctor's face takes a pitiful look. “We stabilized her. But (Y/N) is still not through. We can’t say if she makes it through the night. If she does, we are sure she will be on a good way to a full recovery. Tonight will be critical for that. But (Y/N) showed us she is a fighter, maybe the chances aren’t that bad.”

Spencer is led through several halls to her room. He sits down in an uncomfortable hospital chair next to his daughter’s bed. Her hand is cold against his warm one. His are still shaking as he brushes a strand of her hair out of her face.

The only thing that Spencer wants right now is for (Y/N) to open her eyes and ask him to go home. He wants to take her there so desperately. But he can’t. Because he is the ignorant one.

“Hold on, I still want you Come back, I still need you, Sweetheart”, Spencer says, pressing a kiss onto her knuckles.

Taglist:

All works:

@dindjarinsspouse @big-galaxy-chaos

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @mggsprettygirl @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962

@ellyhotchner

[imagine-organization-xiii]

org members with an s/o that has a really hard time sleeping? how do they help 🥺

I scrolled all the way to the back of the ask box to try and get some older ones done - MY LOVE I'M SORRY YOU HAD TO WAIT SO LONG FOR THIS

Edit: excluding the babies because i already posted this when i realized i forgot about them lmao

-

Xemnas - Xemnas also has trouble sleeping so like, he gets it. Nothing really worked for him - not meditation, tea, reading before bed, counting sheep, exercise, nothing. But while doing research he came across something called Melatonin and HOO BOY even a small dose of that shit works for him, so he recommends that you give it a shot. Lo and behold, it works for you too, and it's the first restful sleep you've gotten in a long time.

Xigbar - THIS MAN IS READY TO WEAR YOU THE FUCK OUT WITH SEXY TIMES. You want to sleep? He will exhaust you until you can barely move and you can't help but let your eyes fall shut. "Xigbar this is nice but I need something more permanent that will help me sleep every night." He's willing to make the sacrifice of sex every night for you.

Xaldin - You want to sleep? He’ll make sure you get an uninterrupted rest even if he has to knock you out to do it. A good night’s sleep to Xaldin is a sleep where your brain and your body need to recharge, so he’ll drag you to the gym or on a long run with him until you’re too drained to do anything else but sleep.

Vexen - you admit that you have trouble sleeping? It's cool. Vexen already knew about it. He has a list of things for you to try; he was just waiting on you to bring it up. Relaxing and repetitive games, medicine if you need it, even a cuddle if you really can't sleep. He's full of ideas and ready to support you as you find what works for you.

Lexaeus - WILL CUDDLE YOU INTO SUBMISSION IF NEED BE. Seriously. Curling up all warm and protected next to this giant teddy bear is an awesome way to hit the snooze button on your brain and he's kind of enough not to move if you're still sleeping. Also willing to get you anything you need - some water, extra pillows, blankets, etc.

Zexion - have you heard of the magic of weighted blankets? No? Because Zexion has and he swears by them. Just plop the big blanket on you and sleep for years if need be. He's also very much willing to read to you until you fall asleep if you need.

Saix - Obviously, according to Saix, you need to lower your stress levels! Difficult to do when you guys have such an important job/mission, but he’ll do his best to take some of your work from you or order the other members to do your work for you. Find a way to work out some of your frustrations, whether its by going for a walk, working out, or talking them through with Saix.

Axel - kind of a heavy sleeper so it will take him a while to realize that you're actually having trouble sleeping. it isn't until he realizes how groggy and irritable you are the next day that he talks to you about it and does his best to get you to sleep. He'll be wrapping you up in blankets, getting you a glass of hot chocolate or warm milk - whatever it takes to make sure you get a good night sleep.

Demyx - can you imagine this man singing you to sleep? Because he will. Every damn night if he has to. Does he fall asleep before you? Wake him up!!! He wants you to wake him up so he knows that you're getting the rest you need to be your usual bright and shining self!!!

Luxord - he wants you to share in some of his own night time rituals to see if they work for you! A nice, hot cup of chamomile next to a warm fire after you've have a soothing bath. He'll set out your favorite pair of comfortable PJ's and even put on a movie or something if you think that will help you fall asleep. Anything to make sure you're getting the rest that you need.

Marluxia - Marluxia is all about those dang herbal remedies and sometimes they really do work! Teas made from herbs in his own garden, a nice, soothing back massage to get you all relaxed and sleepy. Even if he has to put on some spa music and leave you to rest by yourself, he’ll do whatever it takes.

Larxene - Larxene really doesn’t know what to do? It’s rare that she has trouble sleeping, so she isn’t quite sure what the protocol is for helping your significant other to snooze peacefully. But she’s always up to help! Any ideas you have, she’s willing to try along with you, and she’ll stay up all night with you if you can’t sleep.

[inklingofadream]

6, 18, 19, 25, and 35 for the weird writer asks!

What is your darkest fear about writing?

My mom finding it, wildly missing the point, and deciding that enrolling me in talk therapy is non-negotiable lol

Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Gonna scroll it back to Till Things Are Brighter, which no one whose followed me in the past year has read because I last updated in ~February 2021~ but which is still the work I'm most determined to finish

I hadn’t meant to tell you so much. [Growls] There’s too much of a risk of Magnus pulling it out of you and accelerating his plans, or out of my dreams since you’ve made it a proper Statement , but apparently knowing when to stop asking questions isn’t a power granted to any Archivist. Next time you can’t stand not Knowing, just ask me to write it out. Statement fucking ends.

(From the end of chapter 9, for any who want to read my beloved magnum opus bc of this passage lol)

(cut because I am at heart a rambler)

So I knew that in order for various plot events to work I needed Daisy to meet with Gertrude, and I realized that it didn't make much sense for Gertrude to meet with this mysterious lady telling her all this stuff with little if any context to why it's important and not eventually getting fed up and taking a statement by force. That wasn't in my original plan, because it introduces a couple complications, but I actually ended up with a lot of affection for the chapter as a whole.

The handy thing about forcing a statement out of one of your characters and including it in the narrative is that it's an excuse to break the writing rule that people almost never just state their emotions in plain terms. The format by definition requires honesty and usually some explanation of the character's emotions either generally or at the starting point, sometimes complete with their assessment and feelings about those feeling in hindsight. So I got to use it to incorporate stuff I couldn't otherwise!

But Daisy gets pretty mad about having her statement taken every time it happens in canon, she just doesn't have the full details for Jon and can't take it out on Elias. She can't afford to take things out on Gertrude, either, other than peacing out. And I don't generally like including swear words in my writing but... nothing else fit. So Daisy got One Swear, for a treat!

Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Ahahaha, I started writing in second grade. My best friend and I were going to make a novelization of the Rankin-Bass Santa Claus in Comin' to Town Christmas special with her doing illustrations and me writing. It was never finished and lost to time because my family moved the summer after second grade :( I wrote other things throughout elementary school, but sadly never found such a willing cowriter. The draft of the story that made my mom point out that people might not be interested in reading a story that interrupts the action every time a character is introduced to tell you their age, hair and eye color, favorite color, height, and hobbies is a happier loss X'D I did Nanowrimo for the first time in 7th grade, and did finish the story (it's still around... somewhere...) but it was handwritten so I don't know the wordcount. Probably more in the 20k range, but whatever. Did it again successfully on a word processor in 9th grade (also around... somewhere... in printed form even though the computer it was saved to is long gone). Those would probably be better if they were Mary Sue stories, I think if I reread them they'd probably be mostly very boring.

There's a local day event thing for teenage writers in my area called Teen Author Boot Camp, my best friend since toddlerhood got me into it and the first year we went we got 1st (her) and 2nd (me) place in their first chapter writing contest (year redacted bc you could def dox me from their FB). That was probably the last gasp of me successfully writing as a teen. I went again as many years as I was eligible, because it was hugely fun winning aside, but never won again lol. I started reading fic around the time I started high school, and wrote some a few years after that (it's all MCU/Marvel fic, don't go that far back on my AO3, some of it I probably still stand by but some is for sure Bad). I spent most of high school with major burnout writer's block. I started writing again slightly before listening to TMA, but that was what got me back into writing recreationally in a big way. Since I think 2019? maybe 2020 idk, every year I've had an end of year wordcount on AO3 that's... honestly a big embarrassing lol.

I have a fistful of original ideas (fiction and non) that I want to get around to, but right now those are on hold until I finish the final paper for my Bachelor's, which has sadly NOT been blessed by the inspiration gods... fic gets to happen because on a conscious prioritization level I can post it for instant gratification which original writing can't do and on a less conscious level because the chronic health issues that blessedly got me accommodations on that paper interfere enough with my brain on most days to make academic writing hard where fic just isn't. I'm finally in a decent enough place that I'll hopefully be able to get past that, and once that's out of the way original writing (and hopefully improvements in health once that stress is gone) here I come!

What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

My Daisy Tonner is femme but mostly can't express it because it's impractical at work. She always painted her nails because it lasts decently and doesn't detract from how her colleagues view her. She has a bunch of more feminine clothes that she doesn't wear much because she doesn't spend that much time not working. Basira doesn't really know all that about her because by the time she was in the picture Daisy was too Hunt-influenced to pay much attention to unrelated things, which got worse over time.

Or for an OC, Cece who shows up in Little Archive is biromantic asexual and has freckles and moles because projection thy name is Ink

What’s your favorite writing rule to smash into smithereens?

When I was a baby teen writer I would absorb anything that seemed to have a decently informed source and for a long time I had this quote from Elmore Leonard hang on

Keep your exclamation points under control. You are allowed no more than two or three per 100,000 words of prose.

taped to the side of my bedside table where I saw it all the time. Anyway screw that guy, I love exclamation points! Avoiding them outside of a non-personified distant third person POV is janky! It sounds weird! It distances you from the character! What about dialogue?! Anyone transcribing mine would have to use a bunch, that's how lots of people talk!

[disenchantedif]

This was a ko-fi commission I'm also posting here; thank you to everyone who has supported me there and on Patreon. I'm still saving for tuition again, so commissions are indefinitely opened lol!

They can be personalized down to the name, pronouns, and RO of your MC. My ko-fi is here if you'd like to order one!

I had to cut this because it is very long, so continue reading below!

“Hey, are you…” Theodora drags the word out for a moment, considering what she’s about to say, “I suppose it’s stupid to ask if you’re alright.”

You only shrug; it wasn’t anything new, being subjected to ridicule everywhere you went. Sometimes, occasionally, you would let your guard down and feel safe enough that it broke your heart anew when the other foot dropped. Sometimes, like today, you believe you’re accepted only to be harshly reminded otherwise.

She purses her lips for a moment, sitting beside you on your shared couch. Your dorm’s furniture isn’t brand new and it makes a soft creak when she scoots closer. She seems to hesitate for a moment, and you know she wants to reach out, but you can’t find it in yourself to open your mouth and give permission.

You can’t find it in yourself to move, or offer your hand, or do much of anything, really. It feels like you’ve been dunked in freezing water and left for dead; numb and in shock, accepting your fate, quietly contemplating how you got here and regretting everything that led up to this moment.

She places a warm hand on your knee and you pause. Maybe not everything that led up to this moment, then. Theo is different than the others, different than even Viktor, different in the way that you don’t dread her touch and would, in fact, welcome it.

She brings forth a warm glow beneath your skins, a light to help you stumble out of whatever darkness you’ve found yourself in. The only question is if you’ll accept it.

Slowly, carefully, you move your hand and place it over her own, giving her plenty of time to withdraw if she wants to. She doesn’t, and your skin meets hers.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head, but stop it.” She says softly, “They don’t define your worth.”

“Then who does?” You finally speak, voice cracking.

She frowns slightly, a slight furrow between her brows, “You.”

“Well, then, the outcome still isn’t looking very bright.” You laugh softly, a bitter sound.

She’s silent for a moment before she sighs, turning her hand and lacing her fingers with yours, “I wish you would talk to me more.”

“About?”

“This. Anything.” She sags a bit, tightening her hold, “I’m worried.”

“You actually being concerned about something?” You say in disbelief, “The same cambion that took a tumble off a cliff in our herbology lesson and flew back up laughing?”

She smirks slightly, “I only get concerned about the important things.”

You freeze at the implication, all thoughts of derailing the conversation and escaping lost. She turns even more on the couch, sitting so she faces you fully, and grabs your other hand with her own free one. Both your hands are wrapped in hers, and despite what you were feeling earlier you can tell you’re beginning to thaw.

“Speechless, hm?” She says, tilting her head, “Not that that’s new. Is this alright?”

You nod and then clear your throat, “Yes, um, yeah, it’s fine.”

Her smirk turns into a full-blown grin and you glance away to avoid her smug face. She leans forward, making your gaze jerk back to hers anyway, but she’s not smug when you meet her eyes.

“Can you tell me who was talking shit?” She says, deathly serious, “I won’t do anything, swear.”

“You won’t do anything?” You say in disbelief, “You’re just as bad as Viktor, and I didn’t think that was possible before this year.”

She huffs out a laugh, “I’m a very protective roommate. Now, who was it? I come back from class and you’re all mopey and I want to know who did it.”

You sigh, already bracing for the reaction, “It was...Bree-”

“Fucking Bree!” She releases you instantly, shooting to her feet.

“Wait!” You rise to your feet too, “You just said you wouldn’t do anything!”

“I lied.” She hisses, “I’ve told her to keep her mouth shut before, and I’m about to show her why.”

You see her eyes, normally a blue so clear they match the sky, turn a deep black that nearly matches her hair. You have maybe a minute or two before the claws and wings make an appearance.

“What would you even do, Theo?” You ask, reaching for her again but not quite making contact, “Just...sit back down.”

She stills for a moment, seeing your hand hanging in midair and reaching the rest of the way to accept it, “I’d bust her kneecaps is what I’d do.”

“And get expelled.” You say, “So sit down.”

She hesitates.

“Please.” You add.

She collapses back onto the couch, tugging at your hand and making you do the same.

“Only because you asked so nicely.” She lets out a sharp breath, “That just...pisses me off.”

“There’s no use getting upset.” You say.

Glancing down briefly, you feel bold and swipe your thumb across the back of her hand.

She stares at the spot you’d touched for a moment, “There is. If they knew you like I did, they’d never treat you that way. Instead, they listen to bullshit rumors and never bother learning anything beyond that.”

“And how do you know me?” You ask, finally making her eyes drift upwards.

“I know enough.” She smiles softly, the blue slowly returning to her eyes, “You’re one of the best people I’ve ever met.”

You shake your head slightly, “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.” She insists.

She leans forward, much like she had earlier, but this time she looks determined. She stops inches from your face, removing her hand from yours only for it to end up hovering against your cheek.

Not touching.

Not yet.

“Can I?” She asks.

“Do what?” You ask, you feeling hopeless.

“Kiss you.”

You don’t trust yourself to speak, your words always fail you, so you push her hand until her palm meets your cheek and nod the slightest bit. You hold your breath as she leans forward and…

It’s not fireworks. It’s not an explosion.

It’s warm skin against your own. It’s safety. It’s feeling like you finally, somehow, belong.

As she weaves her other hand through your hair, pulling you closer and closer, your pulse picks up and you feel like you might actually faint. You don’t, though, and she breaks away. Her eyes scan your face, searching for discomfort, and when she finds nothing but awe she smiles. Resting her forehead against yours, you both sit for a moment, perfectly content.

“I’m still kicking her ass later.” She mummers, the sound quiet against the roar of your heart.

“Theo-”

“I am. Lucia’s too. I know she had something to do with it.”

“Probably not-” You try to intervene.

She pouts slightly, “If you’re really against it, I won’t right now. If either one of them says something where I can hear it, though, not even you can save them.”

You chuckle slightly, “I’m sure.”

You’re silent for a moment before you say, “Thank you.”

“For what? Causing a lot of trouble?” Her mouth quirks up the slightest.

“For caring enough to cause trouble.” You say.

Her smile falls for a moment before it returns, her fingers brushing against your temple and down your cheek and jaw, “Whenever you need it, I’m your troublemaker.”